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acidsoju · 21 days

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ALICE IN WONDERLAND

genre: fantasy au, royalty au, multidimentional au, romance, angst, fiction, action, slow burn. pairing: lost prince!soobin x femreader warnings: a lot of plot?, some cursing, alcohol drinking, getting drunk, reader is mentioned to have long hair, ft. yeonjun and beomgyu, violent actions mentioned, mentions of death, a little 'forced proximity' trope, plot's literally reader finding soobin on the streets and adopting him !, reader's implied to be a year or two younger than soobin, reader's parents are mentioned to have passed away, maybe some steamy make out session but nothing else (sorry girlies no smut), tentacles (??? lmao dont ask), kinda rushed in the end if you ask me. word count: 21.1k summary: you were just out for a midnight snack so how did you end up caught with a prince from another world?

BEING QUITE HONEST, SOOBIN DOES NOT KNOW WHAT IN THE WORLD HAPPENED. His mind is still quite fuzzy when he opens his eyes, rushed and dispersed memories flashing inside his head as a low whine of pain escapes from his mouth. He remembers being in his carriage, enjoying the relaxing image of the road through his window, the sun was setting. He remembers the carriage coming to a stop that neither he did ask for or was informed, his eyes narrowing at the coachman’s sudden action as he knocked on the carriage’s wall.

He remembers the way the door was thrown open and how what came into sight was not the coachman but three men. He remembers trying to escape, not allowing himself to mourn over the dead body of the coachman lying on the ground, and remembers perfectly well the pain he felt when his fist crashed against one of the man’s faces.

He doesn’t remember what happened after he was knocked out though.

He remembers voices, some lose words and sentences and then waking up at the vertigo he felt down in his guts while falling down a cliff, endless pitching dark ahead of him and then he faints before he reaches the ground.

Now, lying on the cold and damp floor, Soobin wondered if death was supposed to smell this awful? Pushing himself up with his hands, he looks around and squints his eyes. Was he in some kind of dungeon? The distant sound of waterdrops constantly falling was the only sound reaching his ears, besides the ones he made by standing up. Soobin lifted his chin, head looking upwards to the ceiling where the only mere light that stopped him from being completely in the dark came from.

There was a staircase just under that little hole in the ceiling irradiating light… Could that be the stairway to heaven? Soobin did not lose time before going up the steps, carefully, placing his hand against the hole and pushing up when he reached the last of the stairs. He breathes in deeply as fresh air hit his face, peeking through the hole, the scenery in front of his eyes changing completely one he was out.

Stepping out completely out the hole on was he thought was the ceiling, his eyes look around; it was certainly less dark that in the dungeon below, yet there seemed to be no one around. And, if he had to be honest as he always was, it looked nothing like he had picture heaven to be.

His eyes flicked a little further, sensing some movements just a few feet away from him. There, someone! His feet moved on its own towards the small silhouette of what it seemed a young girl; your attention too set on the thing in your hands. Soobin did falter his pace a little when he saw the way you took a bite from that thing; he wasn’t involving himself with some kind of carnivore, right? Your eyes finally seemed to notice the man moving in your direction, him clearing his throat as he stopped in his tracks in front of you.

“Young peasant, could you perhaps enlighten me about if this is heaven?” Soobin did not ignore the way your eyebrows slightly jumped at his words and how you showed clear distrust in your eyes, your mouth never stopping its movements as you chewed.

“Sorry man” you said once you swallowed the little midnight snack on your mouth, your eyes trailing down at the man’s clothes -was he a cosplayer?- and then up at his eyes again. “I’ve got no money.” This time it was your turn to watch how the man’s face twisted in surprise at your speech, eyes blinking uncountable times and mouth opening and closing a few more, lost at words. He was a prince- the crown prince and you dared being so disrespectful.

Soobin did understand he was, in fact, not dead when his stomach roared; a delicious yet unknown smell filling his senses, his eyes immediately following the invisible trail til reaching that thing you held in your hands. If you could eat that, then it meant he could too, right? And if he felt hunger, that meant he wasn’t dead, right?

His eyes lingered on the hotdog a little too much and you noticed it before you could even take another bite, stopping just a few inches before your snack with your mouth hanging open. You could almost see the drool in his mouth as his eyes shone at the sight of your snack and, after hesitating a little, you sigh and offer him the rest of your hot dog.

“Here, you can have it” you say grabbing the man’s wrist after no sign of him moving and placing the hotdog in his hands, pulling your hand away immediately. “It’s really late, mister, you should go back home now" You muttered before turning around on your heels and walking in the direction of your own place.

Soobin stood in his place absolutely froze, his eyes on your figure walking away, his hand warm where the hotdog was placed. Okay, maybe you have been a little rude to him a second ago, but as Soobin takes a shy bite at the hotdog, he is fast to forgive your behavior humming in delight at the fantastic taste. You had been so kind to him as to give him this little piece of meat that melted in his mouth? Giving up your own pleassure for him?

You looked over your shoulder when you heard the sound of hurried steps in your way only to spot the same man rushing in your direction, hotdog still in hand and a little of mustard on the corner of his lips. The man stopped as you turned around to face him, his chest going up and down as he panted and watched you cross your arms over your chest.

“You’re not following me home, aren’t you, mister?” You questioned him, a brow arching inquisitively. He pressed his lips in a thin line, passing a hand over his clothes to make the wrinkles go away; giving away he was, in fact, following you as he adverted your gaze.

“I am certainly not following you, miss, I’m just bestowing over you the honor of my companionship,” you snorted at the way the man in front of you puffed his chest out in your direction, chin tilting up and eyes looking at yours with a power you didn’t really understand; why was this strange man acting as if he was some kind high-up?

“Well, I don’t want your companionship, my lord,” you said, the words leaving your mouth with a notorious sarcastic tint but Soobin’s mouth opened in surprise at them.

“I must let you know I am no baron, miss, but a prince.” your eyes widened at his words. You got it now, everything- man had some loose wires in his head. You had to clear your throat and look away from him, feeling the cringe creeping in your body at his weird way of standing; God, he actually believed he was a prince.

“Look mister- mister prince, just stop following me or I’ll have to report you to the police.”

“Police?” The man tilted his head tasting the familiar word in his mouth. “You mean the guards? Are you, perhaps, a princess yourse-

Soobin stopped talking mid-sentence when your loud laugh erupted, holding onto your stomach and bending as you found the crazy man’s assumptions hilarious. There was no way you were a princess, he thought as he watched you laugh out loud, almost falling to your knees and wiping a few threatening tears on the corners of your eyes until, slowly, your laugh died down.

“Man, you’re so funny!” you beamed, lifting up a thump up in his direction and then clearing your throat, suppressing your amused smile. “I’m sorry to break it to you but I’m no princess,” shrugging, you started turning on your heels again to resume on your way back home, lifting an accusatory finger in the man’s direction. “Seriously, mister, don’t follow me anymore or I’ll report you to the police.”

“Who is this police you talk about, miss?” he inquired, taking a step in your direction as he feared you were going to leave. “Maybe they rule here?” You hummed for a second, thinking about it before nodding your head to the man and mumbling a simply yup, his eyes shining in relief at your answer. “Take me to them.”

“Wha-

“I must talk with the ruler of your kingdom, young peasant.” He stated, the solidity in his words and eyes softening a little after a few seconds of silence on your part. “If you may be so generous, once more, to show me the way?” he talked again, his tone a little more delicate as his big eyes stared intently into yours.

A tired sigh escaped from your lips, what time was it already? Your eyes trailed the man’s silhouette for the second time in the strange night you were having, taking in the way his clothes were stained, stinky and even torn on the ends; his face didn’t look that good either as his hair was ruffled and stiff, probably from the same thing that had drenched his clothes, and if you squinted your eyes, even in the middle of the night, you could tell he had some tired and bewildered eyes, yet still they shined with a little tint of hope.

“Fine, I’ll take you to the police.” You gave in massaging the back of your neck with your hand as he smiled grateful at you, taking a few steps closer until he stood next to you. You started walking with him following your steps into the police station’s direction, both of you in silence and you failing to notice the way the man long legs took shorter steps to walk in synch with you. The main building came in sight not so long after as it wasn’t even that far away from where you were, stopping in front of the entrance you turned your head to look at him. “Here it is.”

“Let us go in.” He said, before he was going up the entrance stairs and turning back to look at you remaining on the same spot, eyebrows furrowing a little at your unmoving self. “Come on now, peasant, don’t be modest. I’m sure the kind police would grant you a hearing as well.”

You blinked a few times while processing his words. You didn’t move from your place because you had all the intentions of dropping the prince at the police station and returning home. You did not agree going in with him so why were you actually following him inside the building? Soobin let you go in first, even holding the door open for you and followed closely behind you, eyes looking everywhere in curiosity, especially noticing the pattern in some people’s clothes.

You walked the boy closer to where some police officer sat down behind his desk, his unfaced eyes scanning you then the boy on your back that was still too caught up looking around to notice the unwelcoming stare of the adult in front of you. “Hello, officer.” You mumbled addressing the man who nodded yet remained silent. “See this guy over here? He’d really like to speak with you.”

At your words, Soobin peeked effortlessly over your shoulder to look at the man. “Are you the one in charge here, good sir?” He inquired, politely making a small bow with his head at the man whose eyebrows raised a little.

“You could say that, kid, what happened to you?” asked the police officer, eyes looking at the state of his clothes, nose scrunching at the horrendous smell reaching his nostrils.

“Oh, sir! I am finding relief finally knowing someone who can help me!” Exclaimed the prince allowing himself to seat on the chair at the other side of the desk; you barely nod your head for yourself as you thought that your job here was done and that it was finally time for you to go get some rest. “I seem to find myself far away from my home? Do you perhaps know the Fifth Great Kingdom of the Choi Dynasty? Is it too far away from this mundane village we are now?”

You were already turning towards the door when you heard the man sigh heavily. Peeking at his reaction, the police officer brushed a hand through his tired face, eyes perking up at the man in front of him and then to you, making you flinch in your spot at the annoyance in his eyes. “Listen up, kids, we’re busy people and do not have time for any kind of silly joke you’re playing right now. Why don’t you go back home? It’s really late for you both to be roaming around, understood?”

“That is exactly what I need help with, sir, to return home!” Soobin exclaimed, a little bit of exasperation in his voice. The police officer shook his head and got up, his hand making a visible move to the handcuffs hanging from his belt. Soon, your hand found the prince’s wrist and pulled him up, rushing towards the door.

“We’ll go now, sir, sorry for taking your time!” You squealed, ignoring the way the rest of the people inside the building gave you looks that went from ‘it’s two in the morning, why are you two still out?’ to ‘I will not hesitate to put you behind bars if you’re causing any disturbance in my neighborhood, kid.’

Your hand let go of Soobin’s wrist as soon as the both of you stepped back outside, the warmth of the police station quickly fading from your bodies and instead being hugged by the chilly air of the morning early hours. Over the adrenaline ringing and the bangs from your heartbeat in your ears, you heard the prince next to you muttered something like:

“Oh, I am signing for war when I get back.”

You turned your head to look at him only to feel a little guilty even thought nothing of all the things happening were your fault. Still, it was sad to see a person looking so lost; his eyes were still glued to the building in front of you but you could tell that they were actually somewhere else, somewhere far away. You watched the way the tip of his ears had turned bright pink as well as his cheeks and tip of the nose probably because of the cold, the torn clothes not providing him of any warm and comfort.

You would be probably crazy to let him crash at your place, right? This strange man that you had barely got to know for a just an hour, who was probably crazy, his mind far away trapped in a little fantasy word he created and that he assured was from, who could possibly be a serial killer? What even was his name?

You couldn’t, right?

And somehow you still found yourself turning your whole body to him, a long and defeated sigh coming out of your lips, stretching your hand, an open palm, in his direction and clearing your throat to get his attention back from wherever his mind was. His head turned in your direction, revealing the pitiful look on his face, knitted eyebrows and a small pout on his lips, an anxious look on his eyes that shifted to confusion as they moved down at your hand.

“Your… name,” you said clumsily, swallowing the awkwardness you felt under his confused eyes. “What is it?” Soobin’s eyes went up again to meet yours, just realizing he had yet to introduce himself to you, the only generous person he had crossed paths in the new world he found himself.

His hand swiftly grabbed yours but instead of shaking it, he rotated it with his own and lifted it up to his face. At the same time, the tip of his left foot touched the ground behind his right foot, kneeling in front of you until his face was at the same height of yours, dark yet shiny eyes staring into yours over your hand hanging closer to the bottom of his face. It tingles, you thought, there where his breath falls over my hand. His plump and cold lips pressed a soft kiss on your knuckles, eyes never looking away from yours.

“I am Choi Soobin from the Choi Dynasty, rulers of the Fifth Great Kingdom and crown prince of it as well.” He said once his lips left your hand standing normally again and softly letting go of your hand. “I am very sorry for the late introduction, miss, I must have been pretty out of my mind.”

“O-oh, no,” you mumbled trying to appease the creeping rush in your cheeks as the warm in your hand lingered longer than you had expected. “it’s fine, don’t sweat it.” Soobin nodded slowly at you, his eyes looking into yours expectantly and then you realized he did not know your name either. “Oh! Sorry,” you proceeded to tell him your name, smiling softly after it; yours was simpler.

“Y/n…” he said, savoring your name in his mouth, eyes looking into the sky getting lost again before he nodded his head slowly, more to himself than to you. “I will remember it as you have shown a great amount of generosity to me.”

“... Sure. Look, it’s really late and it will get even colder, would you like to spend the night at my place?” You asked noticing the way his mood lifted immediately. “I bet it’s not as big as your castle but it’s better than sleeping on the streets…” you stammered, feeling embarrassed at yourself, why were you talking about castles now?

“I shall take you up on your offer, miss y/n.” he said feeling grateful towards you once again, a tiny smile spreading on his face while you turned your back to him and started walking, stopping when you noticed him not following.

“Come on then, prince, we should get some rest for today.” Soobin rushed towards you and adjusted the pace of his steps to yours once more. “I think it’d be good if you wash up when we get there… you kinda, well, stink.” Soobin felt his cheekbones heating up at your words; he had never ever been told that he stunk. All that he ever received were praises from his parents, from his friends, from the teachers, from the people of the kingdom, so the reaction you obtained was a shy laugh and him mumbling sorry softly under his breath.

Neither of you spoke again until you both were going up the staircases of the complex you lived in. After what felt like infinite stairs up, you stopped in front of a door with the oxidating numbers 405 in it, your head turning to look at him with a tired and apologetic expression. “I’m sorry, we’re almost there, I just really need to get something from the guy that lives here, would you wait for me over there, please?” Soobin couldn’t say no, after all you were letting him, a complete stranger, sleep at your home, so the boy walked away a little and waited patiently as you knocked on the door once, twice, thrice, a couple of times increasing even more each time.

The door swung open revealing on the other side a sleepy boy rubbing his eyes that he barely could open to look at your figure standing in front of him. Yeonjun’s eyebrows furrowed, his eyes closing again at the intensity of the yawn escaping his lips. “Babe? What’s wrong? It’s three in the fucking morning.” He mumbled, voice deep and raspy from being just woken up, leaning against the frame of his door and reaching a hand to rest on the top of your head. The sleepy guy finally seemed to notice the presence of the other boy standing behind you, his eyes looking with curiosity. “Oh? Is he with you? Or is he bothering you?”

“He’s with me, Junie.” You answered, smiling softly at your friend and snuzzling at his hand trailing down from the top of your head to your cheek. “Sorry I woke you up but I need help with something…” Yeonjun hummed for you to continue talking, his warm fingers trying to make the coldness of your face disappear. “Could you lend my friend some clothes?” The boys’ gazes met, both of them looking down at each other’s attires; Yeonjun getting immediately why you were asking him that, Soobin wondering if such clothes could even fit him. “And some underwear too, please? I can buy them if you need."

Yeonjun chuckled softly at you and squeezed your cheek in between his fingers, stretching your pretty skin to his heart’s desire. Soobin wondered if that man was your fiancé, he was not, right? Why would you offer him to sleep at your place if you were already taken? But then again, what was your relationship with him to let him touch you so carelessly? Is that how things worked in this little strange and rude world?

“I’ll get that for you, babe, wait here, ‘kay?” Yeonjun leaned in, pressing a tender kiss on your forehead, his eyes shifting from the softness he looked at you with to a cold stare looking into the strange man’s eyes, and then walking back inside his complex leaving you alone with the prince.

“Miss, I am sorry to pry but could it be that man is your husband to be?” Asked Soobin breaking the silence the both of you were engulfed at. The look you gave him over your shoulder clearly answered his question and he looked away feeling a bit ashamed for being such a noisy person.

Yeonjun came back soon after with a paper bag in his hand filled with all you had asked for. Mumbling a soft thank you to him, you were ready to continue your way up the stairs with the prince when Yeonjun’s voice made you stop on your tracks.

“He’s crashing at your place tonight?” he questioned scratching the spot under his jawline, receiving a short nod from you. “Mmh, ‘kay babe, call me if you need anything else.”

You heard the door shutting softly while you walked up the stairs, after a while finally reaching your own complex, the door with the number 913. After unlocking it, you pushed it open and trailed a single hand on the wall searching for the light switch, pushing the little lever up with your index finger, warm light immediately making the darkness from your apartment disappear. Soobin followed you in, his eyes as always looking around at everything with curiosity.

“Fuck, it’s so late,” you muttered, your eyes glued to the clock on your wall marking three twenty-five in the morning. “Shoes off, please,” you said, your eyes moving to the prince’s dirty shoes, he rushing to take them off just as you had done. “Let me show you the bathroom so you can wash yourself. Here,” you pushed the paper bag at him, his fingers barely brushing your hand before you let go of it and walked down a tight hall, turning on the lights as you walked.

Soobin followed you close and silently, listening carefully to every instruction you gave him. You were quite bossy, he thought as you told him where to leave his dirty clothes and to call for you when he was done, leaving him alone after a last glance at him.

You heard water crashing against your bathtub floor from your bedroom, quickly changing into some clothes to sleep and grabbing the mat from inside your closet, taking it with you to the small living room and placing it down on the ground after pushing the couch away a little. You walked from the living to your bedroom a few more times, taking with you some bedcovers and pillows for the boy to sleep a bit more comfortable.

Your head turned to the hall when you heard the bathroom door opening, the prince emerging from it with a steam cloud on his back. You had to actually squint and rubbed your eyes at the sight of him; was he the same person? The crazy prince from before was nowhere to be seen in the man in front of you, Yeonjun’s clothes fitting him perfectly, no more stinky smell, no more strained clothes, no more stiff hair. Instead, his hair fell over his eyes still dripping some waterdrops from the shower.

“I’m done, miss y/n,” he said, smiling softly at you and tilting his head a little to meet your eyes; wasn’t he ridiculously tall? “I also left the clothes where you told me to... What is wrong, does this clothing not fit me?” he questioned analyzing the little amused look on your face. You quickly shook your head, looking away from him and putting another step of distance between each other.

“You can sleep here tonight,” you pointed at the spontaneous bed you made on the floor, from the corner of your eyes watching him nod while taking in the sight of it. Soobin quickly got under the bedcovers you had put for him, hair falling softly framing his face as he placed his head on the pillow, eyes looking up at you, fatigue taking over his features. “Is it alright? Maybe sleeping on the floor is a bit…”

“This is perfect, miss,” he mumbled, eyes weighting down, lazy smile fighting to remain on his face. “Thank you so much for everything, really.”

You only hummed as you walked towards the wall, turning off the light and mumbling a soft goodnight, prince before walking to your own bedroom.

Just then, finally having found some warmth and comfort after everything that went down, Soobin’s cheeks got wet from the tears trailing down from his eyes, his teeth chewing at his bottom lip trying to hold the sobs, and himself too exhausted to even cry the way he deserved, falling asleep with no sign from the tears of stopping any time soon.

Five hours is all you got of sleep that night, your body immediately falling into slumber when it touched the comfort of your bed, a hell of a whole ride for only a midnight snack if someone were to ask you.

When you woke up the next morning you actually thought you had had just one of the craziest fucking dreams of your life, but soon you realized it hadn’t been a dream; first, it was walking into the bathroom and instantly gagging at the putrid smell of the clothes placed neatly on a corner; secondly, was the soundly sleeping prince on your living room, soft snores coming from his half-opened heart-shaped lips.

So now you had a complete strange man in your complex who firmly believed he’s some kind of prince- no, crown prince of a kingdom and you still had to go to class? What a hilarious world, you thought, your mind wondering if in his world college students existed for suffering too.

“Please… don’t… rub me… I’m a broke… student…” you wrote down on a single piece of paper, mumbling the words under your breath and smiling as you drew a little smiley face on it, then sticking the note to the arm of the couch next to the sleeping beauty.

When Soobin woke up later in the morning, almost not morning anymore, he knew immediately all that had happened was real; his puffy eyes moving around for any sign of you, spotting instead the little note on the couch that was directed to him:

‘mornin’ prince, sorry I had to leave first got some things to do, feel free to have some fruit from the kitchen but please don’t rub me, I’m a broken student :)’

Soobin chuckled softly at your words and put the note back where you had put it, feeling too lazy to get up yet, his mind wandering over and over again at everything that happened in last than twenty-four hours. Are they worried? Do they think I died? Have they told the people of the kingdom yet? Have they caught the responsibles? Why did they do this to me? Can I go back?

Soobin forced himself to stop thinking when he felt the hard pang in his chest and his throat tightening at the scary thought of never seeing his family again. Maybe he’d have some fruit.

The prince arched an inquisitive eyebrow as his eyes scanned your disaster of a kitchen, then landing on the basket with fruits over a counter, picking up an apple and washing it while completely ignoring the dirty dishes all over the sink. If you weren’t doing your dishes, why would he?

He allowed himself to take a seat on your couch, enjoying the taste of his favorite fruit, his mind flowing with thoughts again. Should he wait for you to come back or just go away now? It would probably be very impolite of him to go away without a proper goodbye, he thought, agreeing with himself. But just what time were you coming back? His fingers brushed again the note on the couch’s arm, picking it up to read it once more; you didn’t say what time you were coming back, so what was he supposed to do?

The image of the boy from last night appeared on his mind as quickly as he got himself from the couch and walked down the stairs, remembering the number of the door and soon reaching it, knocking on it just like you had done last night, once, twice, thrice, again and again, until the door flew opened.

“Uuh?” Yeonjun frowned at the prince, his eyes looking down at his own clothes, damn he had style. “Nice clothes, man.”

“I suppose they are not quite bad,” said Soobin, lifting up his chin at the boy whose eyebrows jumped at his speech, looking at the prince funnily.

“And just from what fairytale did y/n take you from, mh?” Yeonjun crossed his arms over his chest, a lazy grin on his lips. Soobin unknowingly pouted at the mention of your name so carelessly.

“Do you happen to know which time is miss y/n coming back?” he made sure to emphasized the correct way you should be treated. Yeonjun hummed a little too long, his lips pouting while thinking.

“I do.”

“Well? Tell me.”

“Not telling ya’” Yeonjun stuck his tongue out at the man playfully, earning a soft gasp of indignation from Soobin and a taken aback look. “If she didn’t tell you there must be for a reason, no?”

“She might have just forgotten to add it.” Soobin mumbled, eyebrows knitting in frustration; he did not like this boy, not one bit. ”I will wait for her either way, I just wish to know when she will be back.”

Yeonjun sighed, rolling his eyes already tired from hearing the formal speech of the boy, not even his grandmother spoke that way and she was like, ancestral. “She’s back in a few hours, man, so find something else to do while you wait” Yeonjun then realized the boy was just doing that and scoffed in his face dumfounded. “You were bored, huh? Do I look like some nanny to you?”

“You quite do, actually,” answered Soobin knowing that would have the boy in front of him ticking; Yeonjun licked his lips, an amused smile spreading on his face before he took a step away from his door, allowing the young prince to step into his own little world.

“You said you liked the clothes, right?” he asked, closing the door after Soobin got into his complex, the prince looking around pointing in his mind at every difference between yours and his. Your place was way tidier than this one, even thought it had been a little too small for his imagination. Yeonjun’s place seemed even smaller, crampier, the walls were covered by drawn papers and the prince noticed how fabrics were all over the place.

Yeonjun dragged Soobin down the small hall and inside a new room filled with half-dressed and stabbed with needles mannequins. “Since you’re my precious friend’s friend I’ll make something nice for you, whatya’ think? Aren’t I the nicest?” Yeonjun grinned at the prince and approached him, a measuring tape in his hand falling long to the floor. “You look way better than last night, dude… the magic of water and soap.” Soobin scoffed at the words, he is an hygienic man, he just had the terrible luck of magically appearing in the sewers. Still, being kind enough to ignore Yeonjun’s words, the prince let him took his measures, obediently lifting his arms when told to. Even thought Yeonjun was particularly rough, it was a nice feeling, something familiar he had done countless of times back at home.

Yeonjun walked around the room after dropping the measuring tape somewhere on the floor carelessly, moving in between the mannequins with a hand on his chin while his eyes jumped through his pieces. He grabbed and dropped cloth after cloth, muttering to himself, walking to a wardrobe and stirring its inside, until Soobin heard a small ‘ah-a! here you are’ and pulled a strange looking shirt, black leather on a side, brown leather on the other.

“Want you to try some things for me,” he said, pulling his best smile for the prince before letting the clothes fall on his hands. Soobin pursed his lips, he had not received so many orders in his life like this since, well, ever. But Soobin understood common decency perfectly well as he had been taught by the best teachers in the kingdom and was not to refuse the people who had shown him enough generosity the past hours’ requests.

Soobin stripped out of his clothes, not minding Yeonjun was still in the room as he was used to people lingering around and helping him changing his clothes; on the other hand, Yeonjun didn’t mind the man stripping in front of him either, as he had got used to sudden nudity after a while of designing clothes and putting them on people. He hummed, nodding proud at the way his clothes hugged the prince’s body and even walked around his figure, analyzing every inch.

“You could be a model,” Yeonjun stated, proud at his creations. “You already are ridiculously tall, and the rest of your body proportions are good.” He opened some silk curtains revealing a big wall mirror on the corner of the room and motioned for the prince to come close. “Here, take a look, what do you think?” Yeonjun patted the prince’s shoulder before walking away, leaving him alone to look at his own reflect.

The clothes looked more nicely that he had initially thought; they were something new, yes, but they looked good on him. The leather hugging his body perfectly well and allowing him to move enough; his fingers brushed against the material, tracing the unusual division on his chest shaping a triangle. The pair of dark, baggy jeans he had wore also did fit well, he liked them, he looked nice and he seriously began wondering about implementing this ideas on his own personal clothes.

His thoughts abouth the clothes on him quickly disappeared when his eyes caught something strange reflecting behind him… What was that purple spark growing bigger and bigger by second? Soobin looked over his shoulder, there was nothing behind him, Yeonjun long gone from the room. When he turned back, he had to bit down his own tongue at what he saw in the mirror, could it be that he was going insane? Standing next to him stood a way too familiar figure, its shape too foggy to be true, his usual big grin on his face and tired, big and dark bags under his eyes.

“Well, hello there, my good old friend” said the figure, hand pressing on his chest as he bowed his head to the stunned prince on the mirror. Soobin gasped at the clear sound of his voice rumbling inside his head.

“Beomgyu” muttered the prince, trying to touch the image of his friend on the mirror with his own hand, only coming in contact with cold glass. “How-

“What do you mean, how? Why would you be friends with the best mage of the Kingdom if you are not willing to trust in his abilities?” the man snarled, eyes shining in mischief as usual as his dark eyebrow arched, long hair pulled away from his face on a ponytail. The smile on his face faltered a little, eyes closing for a second as he sighed before speaking again, less playfulness and more pain in his voice this time. “Everyone thinks you are dead, Soobin, the Queen’s- the Queen’s falling apart.” Soobin felt his heart banging painfully at his friend’s words. “I knew you were still alive, it made no sense we couldn’t find your body… turns out you are really, really far away.”

“How far away?” questioned Soobin, dreading the answer from the look on his friend’s eyes.

“Dimensionally far away,” Beomgyu sighed, rubbing his temples as if the mere thought of it made his head hurt, which it did. “But do not worry, Your Highness, I am currently working on a way for you to come back, only… it’s taking more time that I had hoped for, actually…” Beomgyu’s corner of his lips trailed down, annoyed at the fact of admitting something was resulting actually difficult for him, Best Mage of the Kingdom, him who was born gifted. “Oh! And one more thing,” the mage remembered the one little important thing he had to tell his friend, hands clasping and big smile spreading in his face. “It may be possible that the ones who did this to you are forbidden mages and they may be on their way to where you are, so be careful! I’ll contact you again with good news, toodles!”

While the image of his friend simply dispelled, Soobin stood in his place looking at his alone reflection with his mouth slightly open after the new information he had just received, especially the last bit; they were still coming after him? They sure didn’t want him just gone but dead. Not only that but he was facing against forbidden mages, the only ones he did not know how to fight against. Soobin, on the contrary of Beomgyu, had not been born with the blessing of magical powers; he had the power of the crown on his shoulders, he had been trained by the best swordsmen in the kingdom, he had been taught by the best teachers of his domain, he had been provided by the best alchemists on items to protect himself against magical powers, but he did possessed them.

“Hey, were you talking to someone?”

Soobin flinched, quickly turning around and grabbing the first thing around; a large piece of wood with fabric around it. Yeonjun looked funnily at the boy and raised a hand, biting down a laugh. “Easy, boy, I come in peace.” Soobin grimaced apologetically at the man, a little ashamed by his reaction but he felt on edge, and then letting the fabrics back on its place. His eyes going at Yeonjun again and particularly at the pair of boots in his hand. “I was getting these babies- now look here, this are my most precious treasure so I’m only borrowing them to you, understood? I want them back and I want them just as clean, but I can’t let you go out ruining my outfit with a pair of shoes that don’t go with it.” Yeonjun clicked his tongue before placing softly the pair of boots in front of Soobin.

Soobin did not look back at the mirror to check his reflection once he put the boots on, trusting Yeonjun’s judgement that they looked good when he started clapping, pleased at his work of art. A big smile was drawing in his face before speaking again. “You ready?” The question making Soobin frown not really getting what the man was talking about.

“Excuse me, ready for what exactly?”

“You wanted to see y/n, right? Let’s go find her then!”

Soobin guessed that it was common in this world to grab at people and pulled them, because not only he had been dragged by you once but know he was being dragged by Yeonjun down the stairs and into the streets. The prince’s eyes wildered at his surrounding; at night everything had seemed so relaxed, barely any people around at two in the morning and no traffic; now he didn’t know where to look, from the strange type of carriages without horses that made some sounds from time to time startling him to the rare vehicle Yeonjun pointed at. “Get on.”

“W-what?” Soobin muttered, not really understanding where was he supposed to get up. Yeonjun arched an eyebrow and pressed a helmet to the prince’s chest.

“On, I’m taking you where y/n is.” Yeonjun climbed onto his motorcycle, quickly adjusting the helmet around his head and hurrying at the boy to the same. Soobin clumsily copied his movements, crossing one leg over the seat and grabbing Yeonjun’s shoulder tightly in his palms when they were off to the street. Yeonjun laughed when he heard the small woah behind his back.

The air hit against Soobin’s face as he peeked over his driver’s shoulder, watching the city passing through his eyes, everything turning into a blur, something roaring under him as they went even faster dodging the cars around you. It kind of reminded him of horse-riding, the way he would ride everywhere in his free time, enjoying the clear air filling his lungs with the good company of his horse.

Yeonjun started slowing down as your university came into sight and stopped in front of the big building, sea of people coming in and out of it. Turning off the engine, his eyes surfed the crowd looking for you and lifted a finger in your direction once you came into his sight. “Just in time, there she is.” He said to the prince who followed the way Yeonjun’s fingers pointed.

Soobin had to admit the way you looked the night before and the way you were looking now were complete opposites; just as you had been wearing last night some old pajama pants and a big hoodie that covered your hands, now wore a fitting pair of blue jeans that fell lose to the ends hiding most of your plain white shoes and a sleeveless maroon blouse that hugged your body nicely, your long hair falling swiftly besides your face, in a framing way and forming a kind of layer over the exposed skin on your shoulders. You were cracking a laugh, eyes closing at the action, throwing your head back and your hand rising up to cover your mouth. You looked incredible as you talked, regaining a relax composure to your friends, smile still reaching your eyes.

Soobin had met many beautiful women in his life as the castle was always point of reunion for most, but there was something in the way you carried yourself- something shouting out loud a thing he had failed to notice in anyone else; freedom. And that was something he sometimes felt he lacked.

He found himself so immersed in the image of you that he failed to notice Yeonjun getting off his motorcycle and removing his helmet, letting it hang on its grabs. “Come on, let’s say hi."

The boys walked towards you, you too engulfed in your conversation with your friends to even notice them approaching yet they didn’t fail to attract everyone else’s attention, even your friends who suddenly stopped their talking and were staring intensely to whatever was behind you. Frowning, you looked over your shoulder, eyes widening at the side of the two men staring back at you.

“So. Hot.” You heard one of your friends mumbling under her breath, making you bit your own tongue and squint your eyes to prevent the cringe on your body from escaping. “Doesn’t it look their coming this way, though?”

“Hey babe,” said Yeonjun grinning at your dumbfounded-self, feeling the burning stares of your friends on your back at his words. Turning on your heels to face the boys, you saw the prince following behind your friend and peeking over his shoulder, a soft smile on his lips as he walked ever so graced. “Happy to see us?”

“Why are you here?” you questioned, trying to make your voice quieter for your prying friends behind you. Your eyebrows knitting when you saw the prince walking away from Yeonjun’s back and stepping to his side, both men in front of you; noticing his new clothes you couldn’t stop your inquiring eyebrow lifting at your friend who only shrugged.

“Man was bored waiting for you, babe, and came to have some fun with me,” Yeonjun licked his lips before resting his arm around Soobin’s shoulders, the prince visibly cringing and tensing on his spot. “I made my job now, got him all dolled up for ya’, so why don’t the two of you go have some fun?” Your frown deepened.

“Wha- Yeonjun I’m still not over my classes-

“Oh, would you look that? Professor Kim notified he’s not feeling well today and postponed the class!” you heard your friends behind you saying, ridiculously loud and obvious for the two men to hear. Yeonjun’s grin only grew bigger and finally let go of the prince as he started backing up to his motorbike.

“Isn’t that destiny?” teased your friend, sending a flying kiss in your direction before he was gone too quickly to even try to catch him.

“Hello again, miss y/n,” Soobin made the attempt to hold your hand and even set himself ready for another bow but you quickly grabbed his shoulders and stopped him, getting near him so suddenly he immediately felt the soft scent of your shampoo reaching his smelling senses; you, on the other hand, were too focused on looking over your shoulder at your friends with a forced smile to realized the way the prince’s heart beat anxiously on his chest as your so sudden and casual proximity.

“I’ll go first, okay?” you mumbled to your friends who just nodded and formed circles with their fingers, telling you that you were fine. You turned your head, looking up at the prince who was already looking at you through his eyelashes, the soft smile on his lips unbeatable. “Are you hungry? Let’s go get some lunch so we can talk, Soobin.”

It wasn’t like Soobin wasn’t ever called by his name, he was by his closest friends and his parents, but he did not except the way his name would sound said by you so forgive him for staring blankly for a second over your head, after what it was a long, extended blink from his part, lips softly parting unconsciously. You, however, missed seeing it as you started walking first to the closest and cheapest food place you knew, Yeonjun’s granny’s ramen place.

“Oh, my! Oh, my! My sweet child!” Even thought the woman was already way past her late 70s, she had the sight of a hawk and the mobility of a thirty-year-old, so she spotted you immediately as you walked into her local. Rushing in wiping her hands on her apron, she walked out of the counter and held her hands up to cup your cheeks, smiling big at you, same eyes as your friend’s looking teary and tenderly into yours. “Look at how much you’ve grown, my god! So? What’s your lame excuse for not visiting your ol’ good granma often, kid? Is it school? Are they overworking your smart pretty brain? Do I need to go teach them a lesson? Just say the word and I’ll be there… I’ll take Junie with me- Oh! And who is this handsome boy with you?” Not even letting you speak, Granny let go of your cheeks and walked closer to the prince, adjusting the frame on her face and squinting her eyes to get a better look at his face even thought she could see him perfectly well. “Not bad, not bad at all! Is this your boyfriend? Yes, very handsome indeed… I like him- Oh! Sit down kids, sit down. I’ll go get some food for you, okay? Okay. be right back.”

Granny walked away after pinching your cheeks one more time. Chuckling softly, ignoring the warm in your cheek where you had been pinched, you sat down on an empty table against the wall of the local, Soobin taking the seat in front of you.

“Your grandmother, I believe?” He questioned and you had to actually contain the amused snort at the perfect posture the man held while sitting, trying to subtly fixing your own.

“She’s Yeonjun’s granny,” you answered, soft smile on your lips at the thought of her, your chin resting on the palm of your hands while you remembered those times from your childhood where you would come into this same place, running around with Yeonjun, eating happily the bowls of ramen Granny would made especially for the both of you; same routine for high school that started wearing off as Yeonjun and you started college, schedules not matching as much anymore. “She’s an angel, really, used to take care of me all my life.” A soft sigh escaped from your lips unconsciously. “You could say she even raised me.” You mumbled, more to yourself than to the boy sit in front of you.

Soobin tilted his head, hair shifting swiftly over his eyes. “What about your parents?” You were dragged out of your cloud of memories with his question, focusing your attention back on him before simply answering.

“They died a long time ago.”

“Oh.”

Well, now it felt kind of awkward. Not for you, though, you had grown up saying that about your parents, it was an inevitable topic and as time flew by the words lost their weight. Soobin, on the other hand, mentally cursed at himself for being so nosy, his mind selfishly remining him of his own, heartbroken parents that believed their only son was dead. “I am so sorry…” he whispered, eyebrows knitting and mouth slightly pouting. You shook your head, smiling at him reassuringly.

“Don’t be, at least in my case is not as awful as it sounds, I still was able to grow with so much love thanks to the people around me,” just as if summoned, Granny placed two big and full, steaming bowls of ramen on the table. Smiling at the familiar sight of the noodles, your eyes flicked up to look at her. “Thanks Granny, this looks delicious.”

“It better be because I made it with my love, child.” The woman placed a tender kiss on your head before her eyes went back to the prince, eyeing curiously the place in front of him. A loud laugh erupted from her. “My boy if I had to take a guess, I’d said you had never seen ramen in your life!”

At least Soobin was smart enough to hold himself from answering to the woman he had, in fact, never even heard the world; smile widening at the sight of the expecting lady whose big eyes were waiting for him to taste her food, he made sure to quicky copy your movements grabbing the chopsticks in his hand and, very slowly trying to get a hold of them, picking up some noodles in them, his lips closing around the sticks.

“Mh!” Granny laughed even louder as the boy widened his eyes, stars sparkling in them as he looked up at her in awe, noodle hanging from his mouth. “This is magnificent, miss! I must know the ingredients you use.”

“Oh, my! What miss?” You rolled your eyes as Granny fanned herself, clearly adoring being referred as a term she so long stopped hearing. “Eat more kids, I’ll bring seconds when you finish these.” Soobin nodded enthusiastically at her words, slurping eager and filling his mouth with the delicious meat. “As for the recipe, I already told you, love.”

“I guess you were hungry,” you said once Granny walked away from your table, leaving the two of you to talk alone. Soobin felt his cheeks heating up, ashamed at himself for losing his composure and in front of a lady; he wiped his mouth with a tissue, apologetically eyes looking at you.

“I’m sorry miss, this is just fantastic,” he said, mouth still covered with the tissue. Your eyebrows knitted and you couldn’t help but to wonder seriously about his state of mind as he continues speaking. “We have the best chefs and ingredients of the Kingdom yet never have I had something as fascinating as this,” Soobin put down the tissue and flash a big grin in your direction, putting on display a pair of dimples on each side of his face that got you too caught on them far too quickly. “This is yet another great thing you’ve showed me about your world, I thank you very much.”

“You’re… welcome,” you honestly didn’t know how to address the whole prince thing yet; could it be better if you just went along with it? “So, when are you planning on going back to your Kingdom, prince?”

Maybe going along with it wasn’t the best option, you thought as you watched his features somber. Maybe all you had to do was drop the man to a psychiatric hospital and end all of this. “That’s something I still do not know yet, miss but do not worry, I received a message from the Head of the Magic Tower, a good massage as he informed they are working on getting me back, the thing is…” Soobin licked his lips, anxiously putting some order to the thoughts in his mind. “I would like to ask for a favor of you, miss.”

You hummed encouraging him to continue talking, already sensing just what he was going to ask as you put two and two together.

“I would like to ask you for shelter, if that is possible.”

You inhaled sharply even though you knew exactly that was what he was going to ask for in the first place; putting down your chopsticks, your mind razed with possibilities. Just why in the world would you let a man you barely knew stay with you for how many days, adding the fact that the man firmly believed was some prince from a kingdom far away. Besides, what would you even gain from it? If all, you’d lose; more spendings meant less money in your pocket and you already had none.

Yet when you opened your mouth to say the simple two-letter word of no, it got caught in your throat as you saw nothing else in front of you but a lost puppy; nibbling at his lip, Soobin anxiously clasped his hands and looked pleadingly at you.

“I beg for you to expend your generosity just one more time, miss” he spoke again as you failed to answer. “I shall reward and return everything you had done for me in so little time once I return home, I’ll make sure to tell the mage to send at least ten chests of gold for you.”

That sentence and the exasperation in his voice made you sigh a chuckle. “You better learn my address to send those chests of gold, prince.” Soobin nodded eagerly, still waiting for you to give him an answer. “Fine, you can stay… only under the condition of you finding a job."

“A job?” repeating the world in his mouth, Soobin tilted his head and narrowing his eyebrows. “Why?”

“Because I don’t have enough money to feed you and me forever and you can't keep taking Yeonjun’s clothes for free either,” you stated, reassuming your own little job of finishing the ramen. “You did have a job before, right?”

“Well, not exactly,” he answered. “I guess my job is being a prince until I take the crown.”

“So nepo baby,”, you sighed in jealously, ignoring the flustered look the boy gave you by your words.

“Did you call me baby?” he whispered but it didn’t reach your ears as it was so low.

The both of you quickly finished the rest of your food just in time for Granny to bring seconds; conversation between you and the prince flowed naturally, him telling you all about the Fifth Great Kingdom from the vast meadows full of flowers where he’d take strolls from time to time to the big castle he lived in, big enough to host beautiful parties all night long.

Neither of you noticed the way you were being watched.

Soobin was lucky indeed for having stumbled upon you. Not only you had taken pity in him and decided to help him in a state he knew not everyone would, but you started teaching him about the magic in your own world. He first realized about it, about the way he was learning things in a way he never thought he could, when one day -after a few days of living toghteter- you got back home with the news of having found a perfect job for him, big smile spreading in your face as you rushed in taking off your shoes and dropping off your things in the couch.

“The public library?” he questioned as he carefully cut down the vegetables on the kitchen counter the way you had taught him to. He heard the water running as you washed your hands quickly beside him.

“Yeah, turns out the old librarian is a little too old and can’t move like she used to, so they need someone to take her place and mostly just put the books back in their place, maybe some watching out of people making out in a hall and nothing else.” You said as you grabbed another knife and stood next to him, picking up a few still perfectly shaped vegetables and starting cutting them at a speed Soobin had yet to reach. “It’s not a too much demanding job and you’ll get to earn some money, what do you say?”

“Well, what do you think?” he asked, stopping his hand with the knife and looking over at you. Feeling his eyes in your face, you refused to look up and continued giving the vegies all of your attention.

“I think you should try it out,” you muttered, eyebrows frowning as some strands of hair fell annoyingly over your face and you tried blowing them away.

“If you think I should do it, I’ll do it.” Soobin’s fingers brushed against the skin on your temple as he carefully pulled them behind your ear, not ignoring the way the tip of your ears were a soft shade of pink, a small grin on his lips.

You flinched a little startled at the sudden touch and hissed in pain when the knife in your hand clumsily brushed against the open palm of your hand, a diagonal cut in the middle of it where blood started pooling.

“Ah, fuck-“ You dropped the knife onto the counter, the loud clank making Soobin flinch himself a little. He watched how you bit down harshly on your lip as you rushed to the sink, whining softly as you put your hand under the running water. “Soobin, pass me some tissues, please, I need to put some pressure here."

He didn’t need to be told twice as he quickly pulled a fist of tissues and rushed to you; you grabbed a few and quickly pressed them against your palm, after thanking him for stop the running water.

“Are you okay? Does it hurt a lot? Should I go get a physician?” he questioned, worry noticeable in his voice as his eyes followed you walking towards the bathroom. You chuckled softly; after a few days living with the man, you had learnt a few antics of him like worrying too much about things that weren’t so serious.

“It’s alright, no physician needed, I need you though, I mean-“you laughed awkwardly, cringing at your own mumbling. “I can use some help with bandaging my hand.” The both of you walked into the too small for two people bathroom and you nodded with your head towards the cabinet in front of you. “There, it should be a first aid box, could you get it?”

“Of course,” you didn’t have time to move away before you felt the faint brushing of his chest on your back as he towered over you, arms extended and long fingers pulling out the box. “Turn around, please.” He muttered as he opened the box and pulled what he thought was needed; you actually felt a little surprised to see him moving with such certainty, already used to the man who knew too little of the world or, at least, your world.

Of course, Soobin knew how to treat wounds; he used to have to tend to some of his after long, heavy hours of swordsmanship training.

So, you just stood there as he didn’t hesitate to hold your hand in his while he used his other hand to clean the cut, too focused on finishing quickly to even notice the way his big hand stood out under yours or the way your pretty fingers trembled a little at the burning feeling in your hand. The man swiftly wrapped your hand in a bandage, smiling softly after his work was finished and finally shifting his eyes to look at you, just realizing the close proximity between the two of you as you almost had your back pressed against the wall behind you; him towering over you.

“… Done,” he whispered, his fingers lingering on your hand as he gently cupped it trying to avoid brushing against the covered cut. “How is it?”

“Good” you mumbled under your breath, too caught on the way his dark eyes seemed to spark as they looked into yours, perfectly shaped eyebrows knitting in worry as you gulped and blinked a few times, trying to collect your thoughts. “… It’s good, it hurts- but it’s not good that it hurts, I meant it’s good it’s healed- I mean, cured, god at least it’s not bleeding anymore.”

Soobin chuckled softly, amused in the way your eyes furiously tried to avoid meeting his and how flustered you became by the second. It had probably been a kind of romantic moment if you hadn’t panicked at the suffocating feeling in between two walls and pushed past him, finally breathing properly once you stepped into the hall.

“We should go,” you told him quickly walking to the living room, grabbing your bag, avoiding his stare. “Let’s get you that job on the library, okay?” Soobin stopped in his tracs in the middle of the living room instead of following you, making you frown a little. “What is it?”

“I think I should finish cooking lunch first,” he said, eyes trailing back to the kitchen where the vegetables still were.

You took Soobin to the public library after the two of you quickly finished making lunch. The place was just as old as they came but still in a perfect state as their owners had always took care of it. Big, tall labyrinth of shelving filled with books of any kind you could ever imagine was what welcomed the prince as he followed you in, silence reigning, quiet whispers being heard far away.

“Hello ma’am, I brought the friend I told you about earlier” you said, lowering your voice to a whisper as you stepped in front of a desk where an old lady sat down, a book in her lap. She moved, indeed, very slowly as she looked up and raised her shaky hand to fix the glasses over her eyes, smiling softly as her sight focused on the both of you. Soobin greeted the old lady properly, whispering just like you had.

“Thank you so much, you both dears, shall we get to know each other while I give you a small tour around, my child?” she asked to Soobin who nodded and waited patiently as the woman moved little by little to get off her chair and walk to him. The prince, as charming as ever, quickly offered his arm for the woman to support herself and she gladly grab onto him, walking very slowly to the first stop.

“I’ll be over there, have fun” you said as you watched him look over your shoulder for you, wondering if you were going to tag along as well; Soobin nodded and walked away with the old librarian.

You took a seat down on an empty round table, just in front of the beautiful stained glass that reached the ceiling, tinting the inside of the library of beautiful colors as the sunshine shone through it. Pulling out your own books from your bag and settling everything else you needed, you used the time to study, already a little behind on some of your classes.

Time flew by and before you knew it, it was already dark outside. As the day went by you had seen Soobin walking over there, learning the trades of a librarian, carrying books back to their shelves, moving the tall ladder when he’d have to place the book on the top of it, pushing the little cart when the books were too much to move by himself. He seemed to have caught on quickly on his tasks, stopping from time to time to ask the old lady behind the desk a few things.

“Hey, isn’t that guy so cute?” you heard the quiet conversation of a few people sitting on the table next to yours, you quickly tried to log your ears off the conversation. “Do you think I should ask him for his number?”

“I know, right? I’ve been staring at him all day, he’s so dreamy” another one said, sighing in love after. “But be honest, a guy like that must be taken, right?”

“Well, we won’t know until we ask him.”

“You should do it.”

You closed your book harshly, the sound rumbling on the quietness of the library, some heads turning in your direction, Soobin’s included. The boy smiled at the sight of you, awkwardly shifting in your seat and mumbling a quietly sorry to the people whose silence had been disturbed by you. He put down a few books on a random shelf and moved towards you, oblivious to the flustered group of people who had just been walking about him.

“Hey,” he mumbled, his hands resting against the wood of your table as he leaned in, his eyes looking down at your texts. You looked up quickly, too immersed in your own thoughts to have realized he had gotten close. “The lady told me I could leave already a while ago, should we go back home?”

Something in the way he muttered the last few words made you flinch inside, closing your hand over your thigh under the table, invisible to the boy’s eyes as you try to sound relaxed answering. “Let’s go,”

“I will let her know then” He said, smiling at you before almost jogging back to the librarian’s desk while you exhaled the air that was retained in you, quickly picking up your things.

“See? Told you a guy like him would be taken already” “Agh, I’m so jealous.”

“Miss y/n, close your eyes” was the first thing Soobin told you when the both of you walked out the library; arching an eyebrow at him, you eyed him suspiciously.

“Why should I?” you questioned, noticing the way he hid his hands behind his back, excited smile on his heart-shaped, pink lips that quickly shifted into a soft pout at your words, thinking over what to say.

“Mmh… please?” he tried again, the smile coming back to his face even more beautifully than before. You rolled your eyes but still closed them afterwards, mumbling a soft okay. A few seconds passes before you heard him speak again. “Okay, open up now, please.”

The first thing you saw were his shiny eyes waiting for your reaction; the second thing you saw was the envelope he held in his hands. His first pay. You laughed, smile growing on your face finding excitement his too cute for his own good.

“Congrats!” you said acting too fast to actually think about what were you doing when you closed your arms around his frame, patting his back softly a few times before your body stiffened and your hand froze in midair. “Oh- sorry, I didn’t rea- hmp!” Before you could pull away from him, his large arms caught you in between him, pushing you back into him, feeling the heat of his body irradiating towards you. Your chin was barely hanging from his shoulder, tip of your toes touching the ground and Soobin shrinking a little. You pat him subtly on his back when the hug got too long for the sake of your sanity, clearing your throat once. “Mh.” Then twice, a little louder as you bumped your fist against your closed lips. “Mh mh!” Following the increase of your pats on his back.

Soobin’s hold around you loosened up and you put a step of space in between you, pretending as it your tinted cheeks weren’t visible to the eye at all. “What do you say about hanging out to celebrate your step into full adulthood?” you said, grin spreading in your face as the idea came into your mind.

“That’s sounds about right, miss y/n” the prince answered, adoring the way your small bLush spread through your face and ears to his display. “Where shall we go?” he questioned as he started walking next to you, following whatever you were headed.

Neon lights were the first thing that caught Soobin’s attention as the both of you stepped into the arcade. Fortunately for you, as it was still a day of the week there weren’t many people around so most of the games were free. You smiled excited as you looked around, reminding how many times you used to come with Yeonjun after a long day of classes in high school. Soobin was starstrucked as he looked just everywhere, from the colorful platform some kids were jumping while facing the big screen grabbing themselves onto a railing behind them to the people holding false guns and shooting at the zombies displaying on the screen.

“Come on! We need to get some coins to use the games,” you said, excitement in your voice as you pulled Soobin from the sleeve. He eyed curiously at the little machine you two stopped at, noticing how you were pulling out some bills from your wallet.

“Wait, let me” he said pulling the first bill from his own payment, softly putting your money down.

“You sure? I mean, it’s literally your first own money,” you mumbled, trying to put your own bill inside the machine’s mouth but again being stopped by the man stepping in between you and the machine and peeking over his shoulder while inserted the bill.

“I owe you so much, miss y/n.”

You crossed your arms in your chest, tilting your head as you peeked beside him to look at the coins falling in exchange of the bill. “You should stop that, you know?”

Soobin and you started grabbing all of your coins, putting most of them in your pockets. His eyebrows furrowed, not really getting what you meant. “Stop what?”

“Calling me miss,” you stated watching from the corner of your eye his own eyes widening subtly at your words. “I think we’re close enough if you paying the arcade, Soobin” you said purposely accentuating and pronouncing every letter in his name. “Call me by name.”

“Now?” he questioned trying to remain looking calm which he did not very well. You nodded. “… Y/n, what do we do now?” Oh, the way he said your name was so sweet.

You took the prince to the basics first; killing some 3dimentional zombies was easy and, surprisingly, you learnt that the boy next to you had an incredibly aim, his points instantly going over yours in seconds. And, of course, when the both of you moved to shooting basketballs to the hoop, he was obviously advantaged thanks to his tall heigh, so Soobin just watched amused at you jumping in your spot throwing balls mindlessly at the hoop, uncontrollably laugh escaping from you as you watched the balls bouncing out of it.

You panted when the game ended, a small pout on your lips as you looked at the scores; Soobin missed the scores that indicated he had won again as his eyes were glued on the way your hair was ruffled and your cheeks were tinted red due to the effort you had put. Smile naturally growing in his face when you turned to look at him and stick out your tongue in his direction. He couldn’t help but laugh, oh, weren’t you so cute?

“I want to try this one,” he said after a short walking in search for the next game, stopping in front of the machine that caught his attention by the big colorful hammers it had. You quickly inserted a coin and grabbed one of the hammers, Soobin copying your action. “Wait, how does this one wor-

He was rudely cut off when you hit the machine with your hammer, a chuckle coming from your lips as your eyes waited carefully to the next prying head for you to smash. Soobin quickly caught on what the game was about but he found himself getting distracted by the not-so-subtly way you crashed the hammer against the machine.

“Uh? Hey!” you protested when Soobin gave you a small push with his hip, making you lose your focus. He chuckled and continued hitting his hammer against the strange gnomes’ heads that peeked out from it. You huffed annoyed at him and returned the push with your hip a little harsher. “Stupid” you mumbled under your breath.

Soobin scoffed and didn’t hesitate to lift his hand and spread it around your shoulders, his fingers finding the skin on your cheek, pinching and pulling from it making you look away from the gnomes and squeal as you try to get him off you. Your hand quickly pressed against his chin, pushing his face up to look away as well; you heard him groan annoyed as he too try to fight your hold back.

The game quickly came to an end and the two of you ended with the lowest possible scores ever. You turned to look at him retracting your hand from his face and pointing your finger at him. “You’re a cheater, prince!” You exclaimed; your cheek still caught in between his fingers. He laughed at the way your skin stretched and finally let go you, his hand softly brushing against your back, little marks around his eyes appearing as he held the most beautiful smile ever.

“Cute” he said, caughting you by surprise.

“W-what?”

“Don’t get mad at me, you cute thing” He said clearer this time, his finger now brushing a strand of hair out of your face and behind your ear. Your mouth opened a little bit as you searched for words in your mind; Soobin chuckled before taking a step back. “It makes me want to beat you at every game.”

The two of you went on and on until your coins started weighting less and less in your pockets. You smiled as you pointed at the photobooth on a corner, quickly walking toward the machine and moving the curtain to get into it. When Soobin didn’t walk behind you, you peeked your head through the cloth and furrowed your eyebrows at him.

“What’s wrong? Come here,” you demanded, your hand quickly finding his wrist and pulling him inside.

“What is this thing?” he asked as he clumsily took a seat beside you inside the cramped photobooth. He watched how you inserted one coin and soon after the image of the two of you, hairs ruffled after so much playing and sparkly eyes, appeared in the screen in front of you.

“Let’s take some pictures,” you said pressing the bottom to start the countdown. You pointed and the camera over the screen, telling him he was supposed to look at the little black dot. “Should we smile?”

“Okay.”

3, 2, 1. The first picture was the two of you, grinning at the camera quite awkward and stiff.

“Oh, look” You exclaimed, noticing the things under your feet. A malicious smile creeped in your face as you grabbed a pair of bunny ears and put them over Soobin’s head. “They suited you.”

“How does this suit me?” he mumbled looking at himself on the screen. His hand moved to the things and pulled the first thing he grabbed: a crown. He chuckled. “Here, you put this one on.”

You let him place the crown over your head. “Does the crown suit me, prince?” you asked him, teasingly while turning your head to look into his eyes. He swallowed before nodding slowly.

“It does.”

3, 2, 1. 3, 2, 1. 3, 2, 1. You took the rest of your pictures quickly, changing position and faces, then switching the bunny ears and the crown for each other’s. You had to look twice at the boy after the crown was placed over his head; it actually suits him too well.

The printed pictures came out after a few minutes; you kneeled to pick them up and smiled fondly while looking at them as you stand back up, they came out cute. You handed them to Soobin for him to look, but he was already getting his face closer to yours to peek over your shoulder. Freezing as you felt his breath hitting the skin on your neck. “Cute.” He repeated, knowing perfectly well how he was too close to you now; his big hand rested over your shoulder and softly pulled from you, making you turn to face him, face too close to face. The hand on your shoulder slowly moved down on your arm, his fingers burning up the skin he touched until his fingers found yours.

Soobin lifted your bandaged hand with his up until it reached his face, softly pushing away your fingers with his chin and moving his face down to placed a deadly slow kiss against your palm with enough force for you to feel any pain. Oh, pain was the last thing you were feeling. His soft plump lips brushed against the cloth of the bandage, moving up to your fingers, kissing softly against your fingertips; his eyes never left yours.

The kisses trailed from your fingertips to the back of your knuckles and then to the back of your hand. Soobin put your hand back down and then tenderly cupped your face while his own face leaned closer, his breath hitting against your face. Your eyes flicked for a moment when his tongue swirled over his lips. “Y/n…” he whispered, his eyes savoring the way your own lingered on his lips. “Can I?”

You simply could nod and lean your face closer to his, your eyes closing before any contact could ever be made. His nose brushed yours as he placed his forehead against yours, taking a small moment before-

“Your Highness!”

Uh?

You opened your eyes only to find Soobin’s eyes as confused as yours. He pulled his face away a little, leaving his hands on your face as he frowned.

“Did also heard that or was I-

“Soobin, over here!” Soobin was caught off by the same voice, both of you looking more confused than before. Just when he took a step back and his hands left your face, both your gazes went down to the photobooth screen.

“What the f-

“Beomgyu?” muttered Soobin, frowning at the sight of his friend right there and taking the seat back in front of him. “What is wrong? Why are you contacting me now?”

“What do you mean now? I told you I was going to contact you again when we made some progress.” The mage answered, eyes looking tired as ever and lose hair framing his face. “I have good news for you, my dear friend, we are getting your golden spooned ass here on Sunday.”

“Sunday? But that is-

“In three days.” You said, finally getting over the shock of a man appearing at the screen out of nothing. Have you been drugged? Were you hallucinating? Why was Soobin actually being called ‘his highness’ by someone? You had had to blink at least five times after the man made his appearance.

“Who is that?” wondered the mage, squeezing his eyes even thought he could see nothing from his side. “Did I appear at a bad moment? Haha!”

You took the empty seat next to Soobin before speaking to the man on the screen; God, this felt like doing a videocall. “Who even are you?” Yes, if you had to be honest, you were a little annoyed at the bad timing of the mage and it was evident in your voice.

“You don’t know who I am?” inquired Beomgyu, horror visible in his face. “I am the most brilliant child of this Kingdom, the One Blessed at Birth, the Head of the Magic Tower and His Highness crown prince Soobin’s best friend.”

Oh, you didn’t his cocky ass one bit.

“Chill, dude, I didn’t ask for your resume or anything.” You scoffed grimacing at his disbelief image. “Besides, magic here doesn’t exist so you actually are, mhm… how do I put it nicely? A farce.”

Beomgyu gasped, a hand clenching in his chest as he was about to explode back at you before getting interrupted by Soobin’s voice. “Stop, the both of you.” If Soobin hadn’t been so caught off guard, he would have found the way you and Beomgyu huffed at the same time funny. “Back to the main point, Beomgyu.”

“… Right, we can get you back on Sunday,” Repeated the mage after fixing the frames on his face. “Sunday before midnight, I will be able to create a portal into our world in… here.” The image of the screen changed from the mage to a place Soobin didn’t know, but you did.

“That’s the Han River.” You told him, feeling the way his confused eyes flicked to look at you. You scoffed. “What? Is he supposed to jump from the bridge?” The sly smile in your face started fading away when the guy on the screen stayed silent. “He’s not, right?”

“Well, he does need to sink deep to reach the portal-

“Weren’t you supposed to be a level max mage?” You snarled finding the whole idea of Soobin actually jumping from the bridge ridiculous. But then again, this whole situation was ridiculous in the first place.

“Beomgyu, is there no other way? Can’t you just open a portal in a mirror?” Questioned Soobin after analyzing the worried expression in your face.

“You know I am an elemental mage, I chose the Han River exactly because of that so as long as you have me you will be safe, my friend.” Something strange, something big roared behind the mage that had him flinching in his place, glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose as he frowned looking at something behind him. “I better go now, I have work to do here. Remember, Sunday before midnight. Oh, and you better be careful about that I told you about last time… I my predictions are correct they should be in that world already.”

You watched in silence how the image in front of you started disappearing until it was completely gone. The silence surrounding you felt heavy, even thought the fait noises from the arcade still reached you, but you weren’t sure about what you were supposed to say now, maybe something like: ‘Hey, good joke! This is a hidden camera prank, right?’ or something like ‘I guess you weren’t an insane person after all, congrats!’. Or maybe you should get on your knees and beg for forgiveness for everytime you made the boy clean your dirty dishes or maybe for calling him stupid or hugging him out of nowhere or-

“Y/n?” You snapped out of your trail of thought when Soobin started waving his hand in front of your face. “Do you feel alright?”

You knitted your eyebrows, face turning to him caughting on the most important fact of all the situation, he was leaving. It’s strange how quickly you had get used to him in your life, just as if he had always been a part of it which, of course, wasn’t the case. You gulped, forcing a little smile on your face as you nodded.

“Yeah, sorry, it’s just… a lot.” You answered, eyes flicking for a second to the screen in case that rude boy would come back. “It’s a lot to process, you know?”

“Well, I’m sure I told you before I was crown prince,” he said, eyebrow arching as his eyes looked amused into yours. “You did not actually think I was some lunatic all this time, right?” The silence and the look on your face was enough for him to get an answer; he laughed, both impressed and worried. “You did not! You are something else indeed, but please in the future do not let any other strange man sleep in your home, y/n.”

“Well, I couldn’t leave you alone, dumbass.” You muttered getting a little flustered, of course you wouldn’t have let any other strange dude get into your place at midnight, him was a special case.

“I am glad it was me who you found.” He said, his knuckles softly bumping against your forehead. You muttered a quiet hey before rubbing the spot, shooting him a glare. “Sunday before midnight, would you like to come with me to the Han River?”

You scoffed. “Of course, Soobin, how else are you supposed to get your ass there if I don’t go?” You rolled your eyes playfully, soft smile appearing in your face as he chuckled. “So, prince, what do you say about getting out of here and getting something nice to eat?”

Soobin smiled, teeth pressing down a little on his bottom lip as he nodded. “I would love that.” He would miss so much the way your pretty eyes looked into his.

“What happened?” Was the first thing Yeonjun asked when the door of your place was opened by a half-awake Soobin scratching the back of his head, small frown on his features as he tried opening his eyes to look at the boy.

“About what?”

Yeonjun rolled his eyes and pushed past open, letting a sleepy Soobin to close the door. “Y/n?” “Sleeping.” Yeonjun nodded at his words, before taking a seat down on the couch and pulling out his phone, a unique artifact Soobin had gotten to know thanks to you. “She texted me last night, told me she wanted to get drunk.”

Soobin covered his mouth for a yawn before taking the seat next to the boy, grabbing a small cushion and hugging it against his chest. He didn't knew you were the drinking type, so Yeonjun's words didn't have that much of an effect on him. “So what about it?"

“So,” Yeonjun scoffed as he rolled his eyes. “She can’t hold her alcohol, never could, she’s so baby but that’s why it doesn’t make sense so I’m guessing something upset her…” The older male arched an eyebrow at the sleepy prince. “Do you know anything?”

“Why don’t you ask her?”

“Cause she’s sleeping.” This was Soobin’s turn to roll his eyes. “There’s this party tonight, we can go if she wants to but I’m worried if she isn’t feeling okay.”

“I don’t know,” Soobin hummed, thinking about what could have upset you so much as Yeonjun said. “Maybe… I do not think this is a reason, but maybe because I am leaving tomorrow?”

“You’re leaving?!” Yeonjun exclaimed a little too loud for ten in the morning, making Soobin wince. “Leaving where? Thought you just moved in here permanently.”

“Our deal was always temporary.”

“Why are you two dumbasses making so much noise at this hour?” you growled walking down the hall still in your pajamas, still with bed hair, still with some dry drool on the corner of your lips. Yeonjun grimaced, you were the same as always. Your friend quickly got up and jumped over the couch in your direction, trapping yourself in his arms and squishing you against his chest. “Hey?? Good morning I guess.” You mumbled, sound muffling as your face was hidden.

“Morning babe,” Yeonjun pressed down a kiss on top of your head and rubbed your back tenderly. Soobin forced himself to look away when he started getting an uncomfortable feeling down in his gut; yet he still watches from the corner of his eyes how Yeonjun pulls your face up, holding you in between his hands, squeezing your cheeks forcing a small pout in your lips while your eyebrows knit together in confusion. The prince was nibbling down on his lip as Yeonjun leaned in closer to your face, worried eyes trailing every inch of your features. “What is it? What’s troubling you, baby? Can I hit it? Tell me if I have to take care of someone, okay? I’ll make sure to tell Granny too.”

You rolled your eyes at his words and tried to speak, but your words were muffled by the hold in your face. “You’ll just let Granny do all the dirty work.” You said once he let go of your face. “I’m fine, why are you more stupid than usual?”

Yeonjun turned to look over at Soobin, mouth forming a small open pout as he pointed his index finger at you with an incredulous look on his face. “Do you see this? This is what I get for being a good older br- ouch!”

Soobin had to hold back a little laugh when you stepped in Yeonjun’s feet, making the boy dramatically fall to the floor; rolling your eyes and snapping back to him as he rolled over a few times. This was something he was going to miss, just being able to fool around like he had heard Yeonjun say a few times before he’d start bothering you, always ending up in small quarrel. Always stopping the both of you to look back at Soobin, who always stared in amusement your interactions, before rushing to him and ganging up two against one.

“Can’t believe our little baby brother’s going away from home!” cried Yeonjun as he hugged Soobin, towering over his body and making the boy squirming under his touch. “We must go hard at tonight’s party then!”

Apparently, by going hard Yeonjun meant he was dressing you up or dolling you up as he would like to state. And boy was he over the moon as he now had not one but two dolls to play with, besides that it had been a while since the last time he had the chance to actually pull some nice clothes for you to wear on a night out.

“Am not wearing that one,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest as Yeonjun quickly rushed into the mannequin room at his place holding the ugliest dress you had ever seen in your life, rolling your eyes as Yeonjun protested at your immediate negative. “For starters, it’s almost winter and I probably would freeze to death if I go out with that,” you said, pointing with your index finger at the extremetly short and thin cloth. “Besides, you know what my style is, stop trying to get me to try your clothes out.”

“Sometimes I think you know me just too well,” your friend grumbled before throwing away the little dress somewhere in the room.

Dinner time came just in time when the three of you were already dressed up party-like enough; you not in the mini dress you friend firstly wanted but in a cute lace black top, long sleeves covering you from the cold of the night, tummy a little exposed till the belly button, a pair of baggy classic blue jeans and some military boots that gifted you a few centimeters more. You were in Yeonjun’s bathroom finishing up your makeup and hair when you heard the knocking on the door. Once, twice, thrice.

Peeking through the hall, you didn’t see any of the boys near so you walked down the hall, stopping in front of the door while the knocks continued. “Who is it?” you questioned, grabbing the door knob.

“Pizza delivery!” You assumed Yeonjun must have ordered some pizza to eat before the party while you were busy in the bathroom so just you opened the door and smiled at the tall delivery man, whose face you couldn’t see very well as it was mostly hidden behind a cap but you were able to see the thin smile on his lips stretching. “Hello there, you ordered a big peperone one?”

You hummed, that was Yeonjun’s favorite. “Yeah, that’s me…” You grabbed the pizza box he offered for you and squinted your eyes, trying to get a better look on his extremely pale face, was his hair blue? “… Do I have to pay or-

“It’s already been paid, miss” he answered, faint yet still there mocking tint in his voice. You almost flinched when he looked up and cold blue eyes, just like the color of his hair you confirmed, stared into you, grin widening. “Have a good night, princess.”

A shiver trailed down your spine, skin getting goosebumps as the man quickly walked away, the light of the hall flicking strangely. You almost pissed yourself when you heard a voice from behind you. “What are you looking at?”

Soobin snickered as you gasped and turned around, hitting him instinctively on the arm, the fear on your face shifting into annoyance. “What is wrong with you?” You snarled, closing the door behind you with a swift kick with your feet and waking past him to the kitchen, hearing his instant footsteps behind you.

Placing down the hot pizza box over the counter, you walked over to the fridge and smiled as you leaned in to grab a few bottles of soju and beer. Soobin rested his back against the wall, arms crossed over his chest as he followed your every move from grabbing a few glasses to pouring down the alcohol on them. Feeling his stare, you peeked over at him and actually paid attention to the pretty clothes he was wearing, especially to the oversized white shirt that suited him really well and the way his black, dark hair had been pushed back, pretty eyebrows and eyes on full display.

You didn’t have much more time to appreciate his pretty self until your friend walked into the door as well, dressed up nicely too, grinning at the smell of the pizza and rushing in grabbing a piece for himself. He practically hissed when you offered him one of the glasses with the mix you had made. “I’m the designated driver tonight, babe, so you better down that yourself.”

“I can drink it if you don’t want to,” spoke Soobin, gently taking the filled plus one drink in your hands before downing it all almost at once, your eyes mesmerized at the way his neck moved while he gulped down. He let out a refreshed sigh after putting down the glass, looking at you curiously as your mouth hanged open, Yeonjun chuckling on the background. “This is really nice, what is this drink?”

“My man is one of us!” Cheered Yeonjun, patting the prince’s shoulder and smiling at him. You grumbling under your breath one of you before sipping your own drink, trying to control your expression while the liquor burned down your throat.

The three of you hurried in finishing the pizza before you walked down the stairs of the complex, the cold breeze of the night hugging you as soon as you stepped out of the building. Yeonjun had convinced Granny to let him borrow her car, which -he said- she never did but this time she gave in right away after mentioning your name and the prince’s. Granny’s car was a little old fashioned but it carried out the main goal of taking you where you needed to go.

“Jungkook’s party” was what Yeonjun said when you asked him earlier where were you going. So, it did not surprise you when the car stopped in front of the big-ass house in one of those private neighborhoods you never stepped foot into, music rumbling under your feet as soon as you stepped out of the car.

As soon as you crossed the main entrance, you were met by a sea of people dancing everywhere to the loud music booming in your ears. Walking in between the two boys, you held onto Yeonjun’s shirt with a hand, while the other was being caught by Soobin’s palm interwinding his fingers with yours.

It the prince had to be honest, this wasn’t what he had in mind when he heard the word ‘party’. This was the complete opposite to the parties he was so used to; no classical music nor orchestra playing live, no knowledge of the word ‘personal space’ as he watched the way people swung their bodies against each other’s, hands caressing, grabbing, squeezing for the bare eyes; lips meeting skin as if they were the only people in the room.

He himself was no saint, but at least he knew the common decency of privacy. His mind landed in the thought of you; this was your world, so if the people here just did that meant it was something you probably would do too, right? Oh, Soobin found the mere thought of you dancing with a stranger so infuriating, even more when he noticed the way some people looked at you with notorious lust in their eyes.

For a moment, you panicked when Soobin’s hand let go of yours and you thought he had gotten lost in between the people; when an arm snaked around your waist and you felt a warm, hard chest meeting your back, you panicked even more. “Uh, where’s Yeonjun?” Soobin had to press his lips near your ear for you to hear him clearly over the loud music, his hot breath with a tint of the alcohol he had drink earlier hitting against your ear and cheek. You blinked for a second, realizing you had let go of your hold onto Yeonjun while getting distracted with Soobin. “Ah, fuck-“ you muttered as you couldn’t see him around anymore, only people dancing and drinking around you.

The fact that the warm body of the prince was clinging to your back didn’t let you think properly, or maybe it was that glass of soju and beer you had down before leaving the complex that it was already clouding your mind, yet you managed to move your own feet in the kitchen’s way, a sigh of relief as it wasn’t so filled with people as the entrance. You waited for Soobin to let go of you as you weren’t going to get lost now but the boy’s large arm just rested there, his fingers pressing on the side of your waist.

“Wanna drink?” You asked to the boy behind you as you reached out your arm to the counter, grabbing two of those classic red plastic cups and then looking at the different kinds of alcohol in display; God, Jeon Jungkook was filthy rich if he let one of the most expensive Whiskeys of the industry to people’s reach.

Soobin hummed as his head peeked over your shoulder at your actions; grabbing a bottle and pouring down its content into the two cups, yours visibly more filled than his. Soobin’s free hand sneaked over you and pulled away that cup from your hands, hearing your whines in protest and chuckling softly as you squirmed against him.

“Yeonjun said you can’t hold your alcohol, y/n, you should be careful.” Said the boy before sipping the strange drink and almost gagging at his awful taste, throat almost giving up. “God, what is this?”

“Vodka” you simple answered, before throwing your head behind bumping the top of it against Soobin’s chest, and downing the cup even thought your throat was burning like hell, some drops sliding from the corner of your lips. Soobin clicked his tongue and try to pull away the cup from you but you had already emptied it. “Soobin you’re clingy tonight, what is it?” you mumbled, putting away the cup and turning around in your heels; the hand that had stayed around your waist now hugged your back as you looked up at the prince.

Your eyes were already weighting on your face as you blinked a few times to focus on his worried features looking back at you, hand moving on its own as you caressed his cheek with your fingers, heart felt like melting when Soobin leaned in even more in your touch. A lazy grin drew in your face.

“Cute.”

Soobin placed his own hand over yours against his and swiftly moved his head, lips pressing down against the palm of your hand in a warm kiss. Then he said those four words that had the spell on you breaking. “I will miss you” “Oh”

Oh indeed. You remembered why you had wanted to come to the party in the first place: to get drunk and, if possible, knocked out and, if possible, to get all of your memories with the prince wiped away from your mind because you knew, one hundred percent sure, that once he was gone for good, you’ll be left alone again. Of course, there were Yeonjun and Granny and your friends and, fuck it, even Jungkook’s Whiskey looking really good right now, but the way you had gotten used in so little time to the boy’s presence in your place and in your life was something that, once taken away, was going to left you devastated.

The mere thought of it, even though it hadn’t happened yet, made your heart clench in your chest. And so, you couldn’t find yourself to say the same to the prince, whose eyes stared intensely at you while you forced a little smile on your face, biting down at your lip to avoid looking like an abandoned puppy.

Just like him when you first met him.

Well, fuck. “Let’s go dance” you said squirming away from his touch and walking to the sea of people dancing along to the music, ignoring wheter Soobin followed you or not and just trying to forget about what was in your mind as you started moving yourself.

The prince just walked out of the kitchen and over to a corner in the room, eyes fixated on yourself as he watched carefully the way you danced, hips moving to the rhythm, hair swinging in a way that had the eye captured, eyes closed, soft smile on your lips. You were eye-catching and from his point of view he spotted some others who seemed to have caught the sight of you too. The prince was about to go on your rescue when he saw a guy making his way to where you were, but Yeonjun beat him to it; an arm hugging you over your shoulders as he leaned in closer to your ear to mumble something was what Soobin saw, clenching his hands in fists as he was too late and as he saw the way you burst out laughing at whatever Yeonjun had said.

But Yeonjun didn’t spare you too much of his time before he was gone again after being pulled away by some random girl and before anyone could come close to you, Soobin was already by your side; he was not going to repeat that little mistake from a minute ago. You, of course, didn’t notice the tall boy standing awkwardly by your side, other bodies bumping against him, his eyes just on you. You only realized Soobin had walked to where you where when a big, warm hand fell over your shoulder, turning around to look at the prince.

You smiled, he was so handsome and you were so drunk already. You didn’t even hesitate before pressing your body to his and stepping in your tip toes, your hands grabbing each side of his shoulders for support as you got near his ear, your nose playfully brushing the side of his cheek before saying to him: “Hello my prince.”

Soobin didn’t fail to notice the way your words came out lazier than usual, almost stepping into each other and he realized the alcohol must have reached your head by now when you started giggling like a small child and rested your forehead against his shoulder. His hands trailed instinctively around your small body, pressing you even closer if it was possible; your own hands moved on their own over his shoulder and around the back of his neck.

“Fuck-“ you mumbled, voice cracking at the word as you felt your heart aching. One of your hands went up and caressed his soft hair, closing your eyes when he started caressing your back on the same way.

“Come here.” He mumbled in your ear, walking away from the sea of dancing people and to a quieter hall where just a few people were, some already knocked out and some just stepping away for a second before going back to the party; the light was dim above your head so when you looked up to see Soobin you had to squint your eyes to focus his face. As soon as your gaze lifted up to his face, his hands cupped your cheeks, wiping away some of the tears that had been falling from your eyes before you could stop them. “Tell me what has got you like this, y/n.”

“… You.” You mumbled, looking away from his worried eyes, eyebrows knitting as your eyes watered even more and you bit down the pout on your lip. “I’m so mad, why do you have to leave? Why did you have to come in the first place? Why- ah, fuck.” You sobbed a little, clenching his shirt in your hands as you spoke. “It’s so sad, Soobin, I really like you in my life.”

One look at the prince’s eyes and you already got a clear answer: he can’t. He’s a prince, for God’s sake and from another fucking world. If you didn’t the worst luck of all, then you felt really sorry for whoever was a level up to yours.

“I…” Soobin chew down on his own lift, his heart beating painfully as the look in your face hurt him even more. “I like you in my life too.”

You chuckled the irony out of your body and try wiping the tears away with your own hand, but it was soon caught in Soobin’s hand and pulled away from your face.

“Y/n, I don’t think I will ever be able to forget you” he mumbled, his hand leading you to rest over his shoulder again before finding the spot on your back with his big palm and pushing you closer to him. “You have left me impregnated in you by the rest of my days so, please, rest assure that I will think and dream about you every single day until my final breath.”

Your breath hitched and before you knew it you were brushing your own lips against his, space almost inexistent in between the two.

“Don’t let me forget, Soobin.”

Truth was, you were sure you weren’t ever going to forget the way Soobin’s soft, fleshy lips felt against yours, or the way his swift movements paced your sloppy ones, or the way you drank in every single gasp of his when you would brush your tongue against his bottom lip, which you quickly became addictive to. Or the way his tongue moved in your mouth more roughly after you had bit down his pretty lip, both of his hands now holding you by your waist, fingers pressing against your exposed skin.

You don’t know just how much time passed in between kisses, but you didn’t care either. A small whine came out of your lips when Soobin softly pulled away, his forehead resting against yours, both of your swollen lips inches apart as you panted heavily, his half-lidded eyes staring into yours.

“I feel like I could do this forever” he whispered, breath fanning over your mouth. You hummed in agreement, leaning in to place a tender kiss in his lips, short but still filled with passion; then moved to the corner of his lips and then up making an invisible path of kisses to his jaw and down his long neck, a soft smile appearing as the prince hummed in delight at the feeling of your warm lips on him. His lips fell open as a gasp escaped from his mouth when you started nibbling down on his skin, alternating in soft bites and then small licks to soothe the spot. “Fuck, that feels good.”

You snickered quietly, moving up again to his ear and placing a soft kiss against it before saying: “Let’s go home, please? Wanna get some sleep.”

Soobin smiled softly, turning his head to kiss your forehead while nodding. “Of course, beautiful, should we go find Yeonjun?”

Shit, Yeonjun.

You had completely forgotten about tonight’s designater driver and, after sending him a few massages and getting no answer from him, Soobin and you started searching for your friend in the insides of Jungkook’s house, of course, making subtle stops for some kisses when you started missing the feeling of his lips or him when he’d capture you in between his arms and trapped your lips surprisingly with his. After a while, you walked into Yeonjun as he stepped out of some random room on the second floor of the house, hair disheveled, lips as swollen as yours, clothes a little messy.

He looked the two of you up and down, analyzing every detail of your state and the way Soobin’s hand still rested against the skin on your waist, his eyes peeking over your head as he stood behind you. Scoffing, Yeonjun was about to say something when a girl in the same state of him walked out the same room, looking at the trio standing outside in slight panick before rushing away down the hall.

“Isn’t that Jungkook’s-

“I won’t say anything if you don’t.”

You nodded; a silent pact made with your friend. Yeonjun didn’t need to hear twice your plea to leave before walking down the stairs and out of the house, Soobin and you quickly following his steps towards Granny’s car.

The way home was quiet, just the low music of the radio setting a chill mood as you leaned against the seat, a tired sigh leaving your mouth as you watched the narrow path outside. Yeonjun hugged you goodbye once you reached his floor and promised to see you again tomorrow.

Soobin closed the door after you walked into your own place, kicking out your boots lazily as you dragged your feet inside, coming to a stop when you didn’t hear Soobin’s steps behind. “What are you doing there?” you asked, turning a little to look at him standing in front of the mat on the floor he slept. Waving your hand at him, a soft smile drew on your face. “Come here, let’s go to sleep.”

Soobin didn’t need to be told twice; he quickly dragged his own feet, following you into your room and closing the door on his back, looking at you moving to grab some makeup wipes, an almost inaudible whine coming out of you as you were too lazy to do it, but still started brushing the wipe over your face. The prince walked closer and took the wipe from your hand, lifting up your face with a finger pushing up your chin.

“Let me help you,” he said, leaning in for a kiss before doing what you had started. You closed your eyes, grateful for his actions, enjoying the often kisses he would give you from time to time, until you heard him say he was done. Soobin walked out of your room for a second to change into a pair of clothes he had borrowed from Yeonjun as you also used the time to change into your pajamas, a sigh of relief outing you as you laid down on your bed.

“Come here Soobin” you mumbled to him, reaching out your hand to the boy once he was back. He smiled and walked over, taking the empty spot in your bed next to you, his arms immediately caughting you in between them and hugging you against his chest, his lips leaving a kiss on the top of your head. Tilting your head up, you were meet by his lips brushing against yours, skin barely touching as his eyes looked down at your mouth.

“I might become obsessed with you at this point” he whispered over your mouth, the words making his lips move against yours. You nodded, that little movement, again, making your lips move against his. “I am forever grateful to have met you, beautiful.”

“Shut up and kiss me already” even if that’s what you said, you were still the one to finally close the tiny gap in between your lips, both of you instantly melting against the other. “I hope this would be a dream” you whispered, hiding your face on the crook of his neck.

“If this is a dream I wish to never wake up.”

You had expected Soobin’s last day on your world to be extremely sad and heartbreaking, yet once again it surprised you how ironical and unpredictable could life be.

You had had a nice sleep in the prince’s arm, waking up around midday when the unstoppable sounds of pictures being taken shook you out of your dream. And not only you had been woken up, but Soobin as well as Yeonjun screamed trying to avoid the murderous, flying pillows you threw at the boy.

“You’ll thank me later, babe!” He cried out, jumping to avoid the pillow on his crotch.

After that, everything became a little bit more chaotic, for example while having breakfast together, when you told Yeonjun that he needed to drive Soobin and you to the Han River where he would have to sink in to teleport back to his world, a world where he, Choi Soobin, the kid he had dressed himself was crown prince, king to be, him, the Choi Soobin.

“You’re both mentally ill, aren’t you?”

Still fully convinced, Yeonjun agreed to drive you to the Han River; after all, he would definitely get scolded if you were to snitch to Granny, so he just complied after a good annoying resistance.

But that was just the tip of the iceberg; what actually came after that was probably the most cinematographic and traumatic-as-fuck incident of your life, because for a second you were cuddling with Soobin in your couch spending what little time left he had, two hours left till midnight, and the other second you were both spread on the floor, caughting, unable to see anything as the room was covered in white dust after the ceiling fell over your heads, almost crashing the both of you if it weren’t for Soobin’s reflexes throwing you away and then jumping from his spot.

“What the fuck!?”

“Y/n? Wait, don’t move!”

“HEHEHEHEHEHEHE”

That laugh radiating some veil, foul, evil didn’t make you get goosebumps but a whole fucking need of a new soul as yours felt like leaving your body. Covering your mouth and nose to shakily breath in, you squinted your eyes trying to find Soobin, walking over to the tall shower you first caught a glimpse, realizing too late your prince didn’t have blue hair.

“Hello there, little princess”

“Y/n? Where are you? Run away, quickly!"

You looked up at the delivery man first with confusion, then with fear as his smile only grew bigger and bigger, his cold blue, mad eyes staring into yours with a glint of amusement.

“Who the fuck-“ you cursed under your breath after your voice cracked out of fear, the man only snickering again in delight of your reaction.

“Be afraid, you should, such a shame I didn’t get to kill you both” the man lamented, clicking his tongue as his finger pointed up at the hole in the ceiling; you expected to see some extremely freaked out upstair neighbors after the lost of their floor, but you only met nothing; pure, pitch black nothing. “Be good, now, little princess, and I might let you live… After all, I just want his life.”

God, what had Soobin done to have the mad-ass pizza delivery man wanting to kill him that badly? Yeez.

“Oh, yeah? Over my dead body.” Of course, there were some times when you weren’t the smartest in the room, for example, right now, but you were just a girl under pressure and one who didn’t backed down without a fight.

The man laughed even louder, making you wince at his high pitch. “HEHEHE! So amusing, you little rats! You have nothing to lose yet you put all of you into saving it, haha! So very thrilling!”

You were about to make some smart comment about how you were not a rat when a loud thump interrupted you; jumping away when the man in front of you collapsed in front of you, Soobin coming into sight with a frying pan held up in his hands and a wild look on his face.

“Are you okay?” He asked, stepping over the man’s back to reach you, placing the frying pan under in between his arm and ribs, his hands grabbing your face and inspecting everywhere for any kind of injury.

“Soobin, what the fuck?” you questioned, panicked in your eyes as the man had finally shut up and now you could let your own emotions flow freely, shaky hands hugging yourself as your eyes trailed to the immobile laying on your floor. “A fraying pan? Is he dead? Oh my god, do I have to hide a body now?”

“Hey, look at me,” Soobin squeezed your cheeks in between his palms, leaning in his face closer to yours to block the way of the delivery man on the floor from your eyes. “You’re okay, but we need to go now, quickly.”

“Go where?” you cried out being dragged by him out of your destroyed place and down the stairs.

“Hey! What happened? Heard some crazy sound from upst- woah, what’s going on?”

Yeonjun was just on his way towards your place; he wasn’t usually the one to get cranky at noisy neighbors, but what he had just heard felt like some kind of explosion and he wanted to make sure you were okay. So, all of his worries only grew when he stumbled with the two of you, covered in white dust and with a frying pan being held as if it was some kind of sword. Yeonjun got no answer, but he was just dragged down with you holding onto his arm. If there was a crazy psychopath in your place, there was no way you were leaving Yeonjun behind.

"Do you still have Granny’s car?” asked Soobin as he dragged the two of you out of the building and looked around to spot the red car. Yeonjun nodded, mumbling an of course as he stuck out the car’s keys. “Let’s go, we need to move.”

“Go where?” questioned Yeonjun, still getting into the driver’s seat while you took the seat next to his and Soobin the ones in the back. There was a loud rumbling on the ground that did not belong to the car you had just gotten in.

“Han River” he stated, looking over the window at the flicking lights of the whole building. You had to be honest, the image in front of your eyes before Yeonjun stepped on the gas pedal reminded you of fucking Stranger Things; sky tinting a shade of red yet not due to the sunset. Honks were blown as your friend drove in a hurry and carelessly through the cars, his eyes flicking to the review mirror and looking at the weird ass man standing in the middle of the street you were just a second ago, his cold eyes seemed like staring directly into Yeonjun’s as a sick smile drew on his face.

“Who’s your friend? Seems cool!”

“And really pissed off at you Soobin, what the fuck was the on my ceiling?”

“I-I can explain… And I will definitely pay the expenses of the broken ceiling, I swear!”

Driving to the Han River from your apartment was a ride of almost an hour, and if you were lucky and bad traffic wasn’t on your side, you’d be there without wasting so much time. But of course, things couldn’t go that way and just when you were about to reach the bridge crossing the river, Yeonjun stopped the car, getting stuck in between a large line of cars. You frowned as you wondered why, it wasn't even rush hour, could this be some kind of little trick from the same crazy pizza delivery man?

There's still a full hour till midnight, you thought as you you read the time on your phone. Your hands moved immediately to unbuckled your self and opened the door in the middle of the traffic, some curious eyes looking at you from their cars.

“What do you think your doing?” Roared Yeonjun watching as you quickly pulled open the backseat door and Soobin got out of the car as well. “Y/n, I swear to god, if you don’t stop right there-

“He needs to get out of here, Junnie! you exclaimed, looking pleadingly at your friend. “And I need to make sure he gets there, please, I’ll be back as soon as I can” A strong gust of wind sent your hair flying to a side, and still out in the cold air you didn't felt any cold, adrenaline rush warming up your body.

Yeonjun sighed, a hand brushing his hair anxiously before nodding reluctantly, an index finger pointing out in your direction before you were off. “You better be back safe, babe, I’m ratting you out to Granny if you don’t.”

“Of course,” you smiled at him. “I love you.” Turning to face the prince, whose hands still hold onto the fraying pan, you grabbed his free hand and starting running towards the bridge, a few honks blown in your direction as you rushed through the cars. “C’mon, let’s go!”

For a moment, all you heard was white noise and your distant pants as you approached the bridge, running and running for a very long time as the two of you got on the bridge, reaching a fair place in its middle; you only came to a stop when Soobin slowed down and pulled from your hand. The prince’s face was glowing up due to the bridge’s lights, warm and even cozy on the railings. His hair was disheveled and his chest moved up and down as he caught his breath. The sky was almost as red as blood over your heads, the fast kind increasing in speed.

"I think it will be alright if I go into the portal a little bit before midnight" Soobin said, his hand grabbing yours pulling you in for a tight hug, his nose nuzzling against the crook of your neck. "Everything will be alright once I am gone, okay? Make sure to return quickly to Yeonjun, please, just be safe."

You knitted your eyebrows, blinking away the tears you didn't want to pour right now, and hugged him back tightly, almost crashing your body against his and making him stagger a little; your hands closing in his shirt. "I'm gonna miss you so much, Soobin" you mumbled, voice falttering even if you didn't want it to.

Soobin held your head back before pressing down his lips over yours one more time, a last kiss filled with desperation and hunger and longing and affection, your hands clenching the back of his shirt. You breath in deeply, trying to print his scent into your brain.

“Aw, how disgusting.”

Then it happened all just too quickly for your mind to even process it correctly; one moment you were pulling away from the kiss to look at the standing man in front of the both of you, a few feet away, then you were forgetting how to breath as a pair of black and thick tentacles popped out of his back, moving at a speed even faster than light in your direction.

You never ever in your life thought about a pair of tentacles strangling your waist with enough force to make you feel you were about to go pop, but, of course, there you were, hanging from the bridge as you felt the air leaving your body, ringing in your ears blocking the desperate calls from Soobin who wasn’t even in a better situation from yours; tentacles grabbing him by the legs and hanging him upside down.

“Fuck! Kai, let her go!” Soobin yelled, his eyes never looking away from your pale figure, not even realizing the kind of request he had made, his mind too focused on you to realize. The pizza delivery man- Kai crooked an eyebrow at the prince’s words, a mocking smile appearing in his face.

“Oh? Should I be a merciful person with you, Your Highness? At least once?” he questioned, humming as if faux lost in thought before shrugging nonchalantly. “Okie, here you go- ups!”

Soobin screamed of your name didn't reached your ears.

For a moment, you breath in deeply, desperately gasping for air. The you crashed into something cold, harsh, making you skin burn, first your head then the rest of your body; air left you again, disappearing completly from your system, water getting too much into you, mouth, nose, eyes, everywhere. Then it burned- everywhere in your body burned but you couldn’t scream- you couldn’t move and then, you were out.

a/n: if you make it till here and read all of this i love you so much and if you liked it thank you so much<33 this is suposed to have a part 2 that im already working on!!

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theobsessivesideblog · 3 months

Text

Hook Where it Hurts

Astarion finds himself Experiencing Emotions™ after a battle takes a turn for the worse.

Warnings: violence/injury, death, angst BUT happy ending I promise

—————————————————————

Your time in the Underdark had been relatively uneventful, all things considered. Sure there were Minotaurs, the occasional bulette, and exploding mushrooms, but there was something strangely beautiful about the alien landscape. The myconids were a friendly, if odd and slightly bloodthirsty bunch. Your conversation with Omeluum had proved enlightening, and trade with Blurg and Derryth had garnered you some useful items. Overall you couldn’t bring yourself to regret following Halsin’s advice to take the subterranean path to the Shadow-Cursed lands.

You set up camp at the Myconid colony, heading out at first light (or at least what you assumed was first light without the actual sun to confirm) to begin your trek towards the lake Sovereign Spaw had pointed you toward. An hour into your walk a glow appeared in the distance, lighting up the gloom of the cavernous landscape.

“I say, that can’t be… I do believe that may be a Sussur tree!” Gail exclaimed from behind you. “Powerful things, and rare, uniquely capable of completely nullifying magical forces, just fascinating!” he continued, eyes alight at the prospect of examining one up close.

“Sussur… that sounds familiar,” Karlach pondered.

“Ah! Right you are my fiery friend, there were instructions in the village about making a weapon with the bark! That would likely prove to be a powerful tool, we should certainly take a look.”

You gazed towards the tree, comparing its location with the heading you had gotten from Spaw. In all likelihood you would end up passing nearby, may as well go on purpose.

“Seems like it won’t be too much of a detour,” you announced, glancing around the group. “All in favor?”

“I’d never say no to a new kick-ass weapon,” Karlach grinned.

“That’s two for, Astarion?” you asked, looking over towards the rogue.

“I doubt our resident magician will shut up about it until we pay a visit, so fine. Let’s go traipsing through the monster-infested dark to look at the magic tree,” Astarion said with a dramatic eye roll.

“Anti-magic, technically, you see the—“ Gale’s chatter came to an abrupt halt as Astarion shot him a withering glance. “Right, yes, um. Shall we?”

———————

You had to admit, the Sussur tree was breathtaking. Far larger than you had initially realized, clearly ancient and powerful. You glanced over to see your companions’ reactions, breath catching as your eyes met Astarion’s. His pale skin was nearly pearlescent in the ethereal glow, the blue light making his red eyes darker than usual. He stared back, lips pulling into a smirk, and a shiver of desire ran down your spine as he began prowling towards you. You’d been playing this game of cat and mouse for days, taking turns taunting and tempting each other and you were curious to see who would break first.

A movement behind Astarion’s shoulder broke you out of your reverie, eyes catching on a monstrous creature slowly beginning to descend toward your troupe from the raised roots of the tree. Your face paled and you saw Astarion’s brow furrow in your periphery as he registered that he had lost your attention, turning to see what had distracted you. He stiffened as he caught sight of the beast, silently reaching to retrieve an arrow while you hissed quietly towards Gale and Karlach in an attempt to get their attention. Karlach looked your way and you subtly gestured towards the creature as it crept closer to the group, trying to hold back the urge to laugh as she reached out and smacked Gale’s arm, interrupting his lecture on the properties of the blossoms.

A few more wordless glances between the four of you had everyone subtly moving into position, preparing for what was sure to be a short battle. You glanced across the clearing, locking eyes with each of your companions before giving a tight nod as all of you attacked at once. The creature let out a shriek as it was barraged by both metal and magic, falling from its root bridge and hitting the ground below with a sickening crunch.

As the adrenaline faded from your system and you walked forward to observe the corpse you were nearly disappointed by how easily the beast had fallen. Not that you ever wanted to get your ass kicked but you had certainly expected that a monster with as many teeth and claws as this one would’ve put up a bit more of a fight. Karlach had turned away with a dissatisfied pout on her lips as she sheathed her weapon and Astarion had already started to wander off to investigate the rest of the cave as you gently nudged the cooling body on the ground with the tip of your boot. It was grotesque up close, a bird-like skeletal face filled with vicious teeth and enormous, razor-sharp hooks protruding from the end of each arm in place of hands. Beside you Gale was surveying the corpse with a strangely joyous expression.

“What a fascinating beast! We got quite lucky, they’re exceptional hunters, certainly wouldn’t want to run into one of these unprepared! They’re called Hook Horrors!” he announced gleefully to no one in particular.

“Did someone say something about whores?” Astarion called from across the cavern. Karlach snorted loudly as she and Gale began making their way over towards him and you rolled your eyes as your lips curled into a smile.

“Yes, Star, Gale has deeply insulted me,” you called back sarcastically. “You may need to come defend my honor! In fact, I–”

You cut off abruptly as a shriek pierced through the air, echoing off the hard rock. You all whipped toward the sound, weapons coming back to the ready as another hook horror climbed out from behind a patch of roots close to your three companions. As you watched it emerge you distractedly thought that it would be nice to go back to fighting above ground again. The way sound bounced around the rocks always made it sound like there was something behind you, and some paranoid instinct had you sending a cursory glance back over your shoulder to calm your nerves.

You froze in place, realizing your fears had been well founded as another hook horror silently emerged from around the corner of the cavern wall and leapt towards you. You barked out a startled curse and jumped back as it took a swing at you. The first horror may have fallen easily enough against the four of you, but your companions were locked in battle on the other side of the cavern and you were well aware that a one-on-one fight was one you wouldn’t win.

You kept your eyes locked on the creature as you began backing your way across the cave, hoping you could get within range of your party before it lost patience and struck. Based on the sounds the other monster was emitting it wouldn’t be a threat for much longer. You tightened your hold on your weapon, preparing to strike as you crept back another step, heart skipping as the rock you had stepped on shifted underneath your boot. You glanced down for a split second, trying to find your footing, a sense of dread filling you as you saw the hook horror jump into motion in your peripheral vision.

The hook drove into your side and you screamed. Pain the likes of which you’d never felt before tore through you as the hook horror yanked its arm across your abdomen, tearing through your stomach. You thought you heard someone shout, but they sounded a million miles away as you collapsed to your knees before the beast, your sight dimming around the edges. You vaguely registered a flash of blades and a wet thump as the hook horror’s head hit the ground before your vision was taken over by Astarion’s panicked visage. His hands gripped your face, feeling unnaturally warm against your cheeks as the world faded away.

“No no no, you can’t die, get UP damn you!” he shouted, desperately trying to staunch the flow of blood from the jagged cut across your midsection even as a small voice in the back of his mind told him it was too late. His shaking hands were covered in your blood but he had never found it less appealing, appetite long gone as he stared at your unnaturally pale face. “Please, my sweet, don’t do this to me,” he pleaded, vision clouding as his eyes filled with tears. He saw a red blur on his left as Karlach kneeled down beside him and he instinctively curled around you protectively, arms gently slipping around your back as he clutched your unmoving form against his chest.

“Astarion, we need–”

“Give me a healing potion. Now.” he ordered, voice dangerously low.

“It’s too late, Astarion. We need to get her body back–”

“Don’t say it like that,” he growled shakily. He closed his eyes and drew a deep breath, trying to steady himself but choking on the scent of your blood in the air. “A resurrection scroll then,” he demanded, glaring in Gale’s direction.

“I… it won’t work. The tree–”

Astarion snarled out a curse and pressed his forehead against your frigid cheek, desperately trying to contain the sob attempting to claw its way out of him.

“We need to get her to camp, Astarion,” Karlach repeated gently, a small line of steam rising from where a tear had just rolled her cheek. “We need Shadowheart. I can carry–”

“No,” he murmured, gently brushing a strand of hair away from your face with a trembling hand before adjusting one of his arms beneath your knees and standing with you cradled against him. “I’ve got her.”

———————

They were farther from camp than Astarion had realized, though perhaps it only felt that way because he had spent the entire walk staring at your lifeless face. He felt numb by the time they arrived, hardly hearing Karlach shout for Shadowheart as they passed the first of the tents. In the back of his mind he was aware that their other companions had gathered around them frantically asking questions, but the words didn’t register and he continued forward without acknowledging any of them. He walked to his tent in a trance, gingerly setting you down on his bedroll and kneeling at your side as his shaking hands tried to arrange your limp body into a more comfortable configuration.

“What in the hells happened?” Shadowheart snapped as Karlach pulled her roughly into the tent. He should answer, should try to explain, but he was frozen kneeling by your side, unable to pull his attention away from your unblinking eyes.

“She- she was-” Karlach bit back a sob, trying to catch her breath. “We got caught off guard. She was alone. She shouldn’t have been alone,” Karlach choked out, dissolving into tears. Shadowheart hurried to your side and knelt across from Astarion, immediately beginning to unfasten the straps on your armor and peeling the bloodied metal away from your skin.

“We need to get her cleaned up so I can see what I'm doing. Astarion, can you fetch me some water and clean washcloths?” she asked, continuing to remove your ruined clothing. When he remained unmoving she looked up to where he sat, his gaze unwaveringly focused on the brutal cut across your torso.

“Astarion,” she repeated softly, waiting as he slowly drug his gaze up to meet her eyes. “I swear to you I will do everything in my power to fix this, but I need your help.” She paused, waiting until Astarion gave a small nod of acknowledgement to rattle off the things she needed, her attention returning to your still form as Astarion rose and darted around his tent gathering what she had requested. He returned a heartbeat later, depositing the items at her side as she instructed him to wet a cloth and begin wiping away as much blood as he could.

She began chanting a prayer as he worked, hovering her hands over your sternum while he continued to gently clean your skin. Your blood had been a gift once, a delight. Now he shuddered as he attempted to ring out the bloodied rag in his hand, barely fighting the urge to retch as it dripped from his hands into the reddened bowl of water at his side.

A light sparked in Shadowheart’s hands, warm and radiant, and Astarion stopped his work, dropping the stained cloth and gently reaching out with trembling fingers to take hold of your hand. The light in her palms grew as she focused, directing its power towards you. A glowing beam split from the whole and snaked downwards, weaving through the jagged edges of your wound and drawing them together while the remainder of the light floated upward, hovering over your heart. She continued chanting, her eyes drifting closed in concentration as the glowing orb started to lower, dimming as it sunk through your skin and into your chest. The room grew silent as Shadowheart completed the incantation and lowered her hands, looking you over carefully.

“Did it… did it work?” Karlach whispered. “Is it supposed to take this long? Why isn’t she–”

Your chest rose as you gasped in air, the breath immediately turning to a cough at the uncomfortable stretch in your lungs. The air tasted of iron and magic and you frowned, trying to open your eyes to observe your surroundings but surprised to find your eyelids heavy and uncooperative. Cool fingers brushed against your face, smoothing away the furrow in your brow and you instinctively relaxed at the familiar touch.

“All is well, darling,” you heard Astarion whisper, voice sounding oddly constricted. “Rest now.”

You were still confused, still couldn't remember how you’d gotten here or what had happened. It felt as if something important had occurred, surely you shouldn’t sleep now. You heard the soft murmur of voices around you, a strained chuckle, a soft sniffle. You frowned again, struggling once more to open your eyes and earning an exasperated sigh from the vampire beside you.

“Please, pet,” he breathed, lips ghosting over your skin as he pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek. “Just sleep.”

Your sense of unease fell away as Astarion began gently running his fingers through your hair. You felt him press another soft kiss against your forehead and relaxed into him, allowing yourself to drift off in his arms.

———————

The second Shadowheart had given the all clear Astarion had insisted everyone leave his tent. It was far too crowded and he wouldn’t have them waking you up when you were clearly in no condition to face their fussing. Even as he anchored himself in the sound of your steady heartbeat he still felt restless and off-balance, hands flitting over your sleeping form looking for something more to do.

He felt ridiculous. You were here in front of him, healed and whole, and that should be the end of it. So why in the hells were his hands still trembling as he ensured your blankets were tucked around you? Why did his chest ache uncomfortably every time he caught a leftover whiff of your blood in the air?

He huffed out a frustrated breath and sat on the ground beside you, staring at your sleeping face warily. This had never been part of his plan. He was never supposed to… care. Two centuries of distancing himself and building walls and somehow you had just waltzed right past his defenses and made yourself at home. He let out a defeated sigh and reached over, extracting your hand from the blankets to weave your fingers together with his. His gaze drifted to the steady rise and fall of your breathing and he found himself matching your pace, the tightly wound coil in his chest finally starting to loosen as you let out a soft snore.

Tomorrow, he decided. Tomorrow he could deal with figuring out why that sound made him smile. Tomorrow he could obsess over how even just holding your hand made his whole body feel warmer. Tomorrow he could deal with the fact that in over 200 years of life he’d never before been as completely and utterly terrified as he had been today. For now, though, he would indulge. For tonight he would just let himself have this, whatever ‘this’ was. He closed his eyes and lifted your hand to his face, gently brushing his lips across your knuckles as he settled in to watch over you until morning.

———————

The passage of time in the Underdark still confused you. You woke to the same darkness you had fallen asleep in, groggily wondering what time it was and how long you had been in bed. Your mouth was dry and your head was pounding. Had you been drinking? That would certainly explain why you couldn’t remember how you had gotten here. As unappealing as getting up sounded, you were parched and you couldn’t stay here forever. You hoisted yourself up and froze as pain suddenly lanced through you, your vision flickering and arms giving out as you whimpered and fell back toward your pillow only to be caught by a pair of cold, pale arms.

“I wouldn’t recommend moving just yet, darling,” Astarion said, looking down at you with a worried frown on his face as he lowered you gently back to the bedroll. “Shadowheart did as much as she could last night but it took a lot out of her to bring you back. You’re not going anywhere until she’s gotten a chance to check on you again.” He leaned across you, determinedly avoiding meeting your eyes as he made sure your pillow was adequately fluffed. You saw a slight tremor run through him and heard a catch in his breath before he stood abruptly and walked across the tent, silently pouring you a glass of water from the pitcher in the corner.

“Bring me… back?” you questioned. Astarion stilled, jaw clenching as you took him in. His normally flawlessly tousled hair was tangled as if he had been running his hands through it and streaks of blood threaded through the white locks. There were dark circles under his eyes and his skin looked even paler than normal, nearly translucent in the dim light. Your eyes flitted down to his wrinkled, untucked shirt and then around the tent, catching on the blood-soaked pile of clothes and armor to the side of the entrance and the red-stained towels laying by a bowl of water next to the bedroll. A dim memory flashed through your mind: a tree, an ambush, excruciating pain, and then… nothing.

“Oh.” you whispered, exhaling shakily as you felt your chest constrict, breaths turning quick and shallow as the air seemed to thin. Astarion was by your side in an instant, one hand smoothing back your hair while the other cupped your cheek, his thumb gently wiping away a tear you hadn’t even realized had fallen.

“It’s alright, darling, just breathe. You’re safe now.” he murmured, continuing to stroke your hair as your breathing calmed. He let out a tremulous sigh and closed his eyes, leaning down to press his forehead to yours. “It’s alright,” he repeated even more quietly, sounding almost as if he were talking to himself, pressing against you for a moment before inhaling sharply and pulling away.

“Shit, you’re in pain, aren’t you?” he said, looking you over with worried eyes and immediately moving to stand. “I’ll get Shadowheart, she said she’d come by when she woke but surely she’s had enough sleep by now and–”

“Wait, Star, I… can you just stay here with me for a moment?” you asked in a small voice. Warmth spread through him at your request and he obliged immediately, lowering himself to sit at your side and gently taking your hand in his. You sat in companionable silence for a moment, studying his profile as he stared at your interlaced fingers. Up close the bags beneath his eyes were even more pronounced and you frowned, gently extricating your hand from his to touch his cheek. He leaned into your palm and placed a kiss against the inside of your wrist, eyes drifting closed as he basked in the warmth of your touch.

“Have you rested at all, Astarion?” you questioned. “You look exhausted.”

He huffed a laugh and cracked open an eye to look at your face.

“I’m not sure you want to get into comparing looks right now, darling. You’re even paler than me at the moment,” he chuckled, eyes closing once again as he leaned further into your touch, a teasing grin spread across his face. “I assure you, however you may think I look, you look ten times worse.”

“Hm, that’s not too bad I suppose,” you smirked. “Ten times worse than you is still at least three times better than the average person.”

Astartion barked out a surprised laugh and opened his eyes to look at you again, something in them softening as he saw your gentle smile.

“Whoever would’ve thought math could be so romantic,” he murmured, leaning forward and placing a soft kiss against your lips. He raised a hand to brush a stray hair off your forehead and his smile faded, brow furrowing as his gaze met yours with uncharacteristic vulnerability. “Please don’t scare me like that again, my dear,” he breathed. “I’m- I don’t-” he sighed in frustration at the mess of emotions in his chest, hardly able to remember the last time his words had failed him so completely.

“Don’t want to deal with this group of weirdos all by yourself?” you teased gently. He grinned back at you, gratitude in his eyes for not pushing him to collect his thoughts just yet.

“Precisely that,” he chuckled, the tension leaving his shoulders.

“Well I’m not going anywhere,” you said, smiling softly at him. “Also I wasn’t kidding before, you look like shit. You really should get some rest.”

“Hm,” Astarion hummed mischievously, narrowing his eyes. “I would, but you see someone went and bled all over my bedroll. Adept though I may be at washing out blood stains it’s a rather thick fabric, it will take a while to dry back out. I may need to stay with… someone… for a day or two. Or three. Maybe more,” he smirked, raising an eyebrow suggestively as you huffed out a laugh.

“You’re incorrigible,” you replied, grinning up at him and rolling your eyes. “I suppose it does seem that I’ve made rather a mess of your tent though…”

“You certainly have,” he murmured, shifting to hover over you, slowly kissing his way along your jaw.

“And it would only be fair to let you bunk with the cleanest person in camp…”

“Mmhmm…” he hummed, kissing closer and closer to your lips.

“And I’m sure Gale wouldn’t mind letting you crash with him–”

“Excuse me??” he crowed, pulling back indignantly as you burst out laughing below him. He scowled playfully and shook his head at you in feigned displeasure. “You wicked little thing,” he chuckled, leaning back down and finally pressing his lips to yours in a gentle, unhurried kiss. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Whatever it is,” you smirked, pulling him back to you for another kiss, “I'm sure I'll like it.”

#astarion #astarion ancunin #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x you #bg3 #bg3 astarion

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sugaryplum · 5 months

Text

our sweater

pairing: theodore nott x reader (didn't use any pronouns or looks description) summary: it's the third of december and sweaters look better on the floor. warnings: sexy times briefly mentioned, language mistakes. the obviously referenced song is out in the universe in this, so you could stretch it to be a modern!au? this is mostly just dialogue, i should just start writing movie scripts or something. writing dialogues is my favourite thing in the world. + you guys seemed to like it last time hehe <3 notes: it is not the third of december. but how dare you bring it up. oh and i’m back, sorry i disappeared for a month? i was busy doing literally nothing.

“so when are you gonna give me that sweater?” you’re laying upside down on theo’s bed, legs up against the wall. he doesn’t even look up from the desk, just muttering a quiet “what?” your way.

“it’s the third of december.” to your satisfaction, he turns his chair to face you. or at least your body, bent in the weird pose out of boredom. you’re not sure if his confused expression is because of that, or because of the the sweater question out of nowhere. either way, you smile and start singing, slightly off key, with a closed fist close to your mouth to imitate a microphone. “i still remember the third of december! me and your sweater, you said it looked better…”

“it does look better on you.” you’re interrupted.

you tilt your head slightly. “obviously.”

after a second or two, he smirks, you can almost see his teeth. “i wonder how it’d look on my floor.” the words are quiet, muffled with a chuckle. you raise your eyebrows in disbelief and turn your head to him, silent, amused.

“i do have a lot of floor space…” he starts again.

your eye roll is an enough of an answer.

“i think your sweater would look great on it.”

“oh, so it’s my sweater now?” you grin, looking almost proud of yourself for catching the word. it’s his turn to roll his eyes.

“when it ends up on my floor it will be mine again.”

“so end up on your floor shall not.”

“it will, eventually.” his legs move from the floor and cross, stretched out on the edge of the bed. you look at the ceiling for a second, and then at him again. “so the question is how?”

“in many ways it could happen…”

“do enlighten me.”

he sighs and pauses. “me removing the sweater for example.”

“removing it from me?”

“yes.”

“it’s getting interesting.” you shift in your place, completely changing the position. your legs are stretched out in front of you, your ankles laying on theo’s calves. “what then?”

“i would put it on my floor.” he says matter–of–factly. when you chuckle, he adds. “and you would get cold.” you nod. his eyes are locked in yours and after a pause, his squint slightly. “i like it when you’re cold. makes you rely on me.”

you chuckle, raising your eyebrows again. “it’s good this year’s winter is quite warm.”

“then it's lucky i turned down the heating. hope you can manage.”

you laugh out loud this time. he laughs too. when laughs turn to smiles, still looking at each other, you take a moment to appreciate his face. noticing every pretty detail, every part of his cheeks, his nose, his chin, his lips. his expression, you rarely see him looking at anyone or anything else like this.

you sigh with a smile. “i like our sweater.”

“our?”

“you called it mine. and i don’t see it on your floor. but i’m willing to call it ours, as a compromise. look how good of a soul i am.”

“the sweater is mine. i meant i allowed you to wear it.”

“so why do i not have it now? it’s the third of december, need i remind you.”

he sighs and bents down, far to the side, refusing to leave the chair. he reaches his wardrobe, barely, and takes out a brown sweater. before you process, it’s thrown at you. you just know he aimed at your head, messing up your hair on purpose.

it’s slightly crumpled, but it smells like him, so you don’t mind. you would never mind.

you put it on, smiling proudly, goal accomplished. he rolls his eyes and breaks a smile.

#theodore nott #theo nott #theodore nott x reader #theo nott x reader #theodore nott fluff #theo nott fluff

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sweet-as-an-angel · 1 year

Text

Ghost w/ an Innocent S/O

Warnings: Reader isn't streetsmart, but they are booksmart, no pronouns used for Reader except 'you', mentions/implications of sex, fluff, Ghost wanting only to keep Reader safe 🥺, vague spoilers/implications of Ghost's past

You're the complete opposite of Ghost's brutal, cold personality.

And because of that, he worries.

He worries that someone would take advantage of your good nature, your eagerness to see the good in everyone and (potentially) misplace your trust.

And that's just when Ghost's home; imagine how he is when he's away.

Escorts anywhere and everywhere.

If you're smaller than him, absolutely no compromise.

Unless you know self-defense.

If you're as large as/larger than him, he'll be a bit more lenient, trusting that you'll be somewhat able to physically protect yourself.

Loves talking to you because your views and opinions are such a breath of fresh air to him.

No brutality, no intense hatred, no desire to see anyone suffer; just you and your wish that "Everyone would just get along."

Ghost knows it's not as simple as that. And you do, too.

You may be naive or innocent, but you're not stupid.

You're actually pretty booksmart.

You make up for things Ghost lacks, and he for you.

You provide the logical answers to something, he provides the practical.

He also adores how wholesome you are.

If you hold this man's hand when you're out and about, or even in private, he'll melt.

He won't show it, of course. But your delicate touches just do something to him.

Make life worth living.

Now, when it comes to sex, you're either quite bashful or absolutely oblivious, regardless of whether you and Ghost have done it before.

He usually has to initiate because there's no way you'll construe his hints the way he wants you to.

"Fancy an early night?"

A concerned look will cross your face.

"Oh, are you ill? Are you tired? You get your pajamas on and I'll bring you some water-"

You're so endearing, and were it not for the fact that Ghost is beyond horny right now, he'd laugh.

You're always willing whenever he initiates, though.

If you end up initiating first one day out of the blue after finally understanding how to give and take a hint, Ghost will likely be in your position.

Won't understand what's happening, believing that whatever vaguely erotic joke or request you'd just made was completely accidental.

Will only grasp the situation when he sees the mischievous look you're giving him.

You're not walking for a couple days after that.

This man lives for your kisses and cuddles, btw.

He loves engulfing you in his frame, protecting you from anything and everything.

He does love when you try and cover him, though.

Like a blanket trying to clothe a whale.

Doesn't care much for 'preserving your innocence' as he believes that you should be allowed to grow and learn as much as you want.

Will advise what you should stay away from, though, and only because he doesn't want you to be traumatised rather than enlightened.

Doesn't worry too much about the others making crude jokes around you since he knows you'll likely not care for them.

But if they make one to you or about you.

💀

They will receive a near-deafening grinding-down, either in front of everyone or in private, depending on how lenient Ghost is feeling.

If you're ever upset about something, Ghost will try and fix it.

Without fail.

He loves how compassionate you are towards people and animals.

Complete 180 from the blood-drenched world he's inhabited for the better part of his life.

Coming back to you feels like reprieve. Like all the trauma and bloodshed can't reach him when he's with you.

Lowkey loves how you decorate your home, even if it's not his personal favourite aesthetic.

It feels like you. Smells like you.

If you're an introvert, Ghost would happily just lay with you all day and never leave the house.

His favourite activity, regardless.

If you're extroverted, however, he'll go wherever you go, unless you explicitly state you want him to stay at home. But only if you're good at self-defense.

Even then, he'll be nervous until you return.

Only asks that you keep him updated about where you are so he can come and find you if needs be.

Hates the idea of becoming a helicopter boyfriend; lets you have your freedom.

Just wants to protect you from everything he wasn't protected from, both as a child and now.

But that's why he does what he does; why he works as a soldier.

And he'd do it all again if it meant keeping you safe.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

AO3 Wattpad

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #ghost x reader #mw2 ghost #mw2 fanfic #cod mw2 fanfic #cod mw2 ghost #mw2 x reader #cod ghosts #cod ghost x reader

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heavenlyvision · 6 months

Text

When hell freezes over

Word count: 5.1k

Pairing: Bi-Han x afab!Reader

A/N: I make no apologies for what I’ve written, I do however, apologise for this coming out before part four of the Crushing series. I saw God (Bi-Han in mk 1) and got possessed by the Holy Spirit (horniness). I’ve noticed tumblr is lacking in fics for my mk cravings, which resulted in this. This fic was initially going to be 1k of only smut, but I got carried away and added a minor plot line :3

Summary: Bi-Han keeps staring at you and you don’t know why but it really starts to get on your nerves, especially when he won’t even admit that he is doing it.

Warnings: 18+ only, smut, fingering, creampie, voyeurism (they fuck outside but they don’t get caught), strong language, pure filth, minor plot, mean Bi-Han, Bi-Han is ooc prolly but he’s also a bitch still, so not completely ooc

Staying at the fire temple means you’ve seen Bi-Han around, always with a scowl on his face and that’s if he’s taken his mask off, but you can always tell he’s scowling under the mask too, with the way his eyebrows pinch. You’ve never actually held a conversation with him, he’s a bit unapproachable and when you do speak, he usually grunts in response. His way of acknowledging you without actually acknowledging you.

Lord Liu Kang has been bringing all of Earth Realms potential heroes together and training them at the Fire Temple, you just so happened to be one of the first heroes he came looking for. You have power, you’re not disillusioned though, you can see in the way Lord Liu Kang moves and speaks, that he already knows who his hero is and it’s not you, which you’re fine with. The idea of fighting against Outworld’s warriors is, to be blunt, scary. You mean to say, that the idea of fighting Sub-zero frightens you, you cannot imagine what kind of formidable opponents live in the other realms.

The other’s Liu Kang has managed to gather are all very kind but also intimidating, you’re surrounded by powerful men all day and that sets you on edge a bit, as a result you tend to be spending more time by yourself in the quieter areas of the temple. They’re not hard to find if you look for them, and the temple has a sense of tranquillity. Ever since you’ve been here, you find yourself meditating now, more than you ever have in your whole life.

On this particular day, you’re sitting on a large rock away from the temple facing all the greenery surrounding the area. Footsteps approaching you bring your awareness back to your environment, but you don’t move or open your eyes, you aren’t really in the mood to be disturbed at this current moment, for all they know, you could be really close to reaching enlightenment.

The person moves to stand in front of you but doesn’t say anything, you try to hold steady and focus but their breathing is disturbing you. In the end your resolve gives in and your shoulders slump as you look up at the perpetrator of disturbance.

You feel a bit silly as you realise that the disturbance is Lord Liu Kang himself, “I could’ve been close to enlightenment only to be disturbed by you at the last moment.”

He looks amused but only slightly, “If you had been that close to enlightenment, I doubt my presence would’ve disturbed you.”

“You can’t know that,” you pout a touch.

He gives you a polite smile in return, “Dinner is going to be served soon, will you grace us with your presence?”

He’s giving you a light ribbing; you’ve been here a while and like to think you’ve gained rapport with him. The way he will indulge you slightly makes you think you’ve succeeded in landing on his good side, though you’re not certain he has a bad side, and if he does, you don’t want to be anywhere near it.

“I hadn’t realised it had gotten this late,” looking up at the sky you can see the sun setting, you’ve been out here far longer than you had expected.

Suddenly, you feel eyes on the back of your head and a shiver runs down your spine in response, without turning around you acknowledge the secondary presence you didn’t initially register.

“Good evening to you too, Sub-zero.”

“Mmmf,” he grunts in your direction as a response.

You address Lord Liu Kang, “he seems gruntier than usual.”

“Perhaps, he is the one who disturbed your enlightenment,” he dips his head towards you as he says this, in an attempt to keep the joke between the two of you.

You chuckle in response before leaping down from the rock, “Alright, let’s eat!”

❆˖°

Dinner with everyone is always a touch rowdy, it never used to be, it used to be quieter but with the additions of Kung Lao, Raiden, Kenshi and especially Johnny Cage, it has gotten livelier around the temple. You find that Kuai Liang, Tomas and Bi-Han frequent dinners here now too, you suspect that them never actually leaving anymore is due to the fact that Lord Liu Kang has gathered all his potential warriors.

Everyone has bets on who they think it is and most of them are betting on themselves but you’re certain Lord Liu Kang has his pick and you’re betting it’s Raiden, the way he looks and considers him makes you think he’s his top pick.

You feel his eyes on you again from across the table, the shiver he sends through you running down your spine again. You aren’t sure why your body reacts to him like that, and you aren’t sure how to feel about it either. Preferably, he would stop staring at you so your body would stop reacting, but he is such a starer, and an angry starer too.

Looking up you lock eyes with Bi-Han, but he doesn’t look away, typical, you think, you look away instead and attempt to stay engaged in the conversations happening around you. But you know he is still staring at you and to be honest, it’s starting to get on your nerves. Taking a deep breath, you look back over at him again and he is still staring at you, you’re getting pissed now, what is his problem. He can be scary but scary is only scary until you’re annoyed.

“What is your problem?” You direct at him quietly; you don’t want everyone at the table seeing you starting a fight with the Grandmaster of the Lin Kuei.

He looks a little taken aback by your bluntness but only for a second, “nothing.” He shrugs.

His voice is stupid and deep, and you’re annoyed at him because why is he still fucking staring at you. People normally have enough humility to look away when confronted but he looks nonplussed by your angry confrontation.

“Well, then stop staring at me,” you shoot back, trying to remain unnoticed by the rest of the table.

“I am not staring,” he replies coolly.

What the fuck? “You definitely are though; I can feel your eyes stabbing me.”

He purses his lips in response, “My eyes are not capable of stabbing you.”

You’re frowning now, deeply, “Well… they are!” Your voice raises a bit with your increasing annoyance. Why won’t he just admit that his eyes are stabbing you.

Unfortunately, everyone has caught onto your little argument now, which prompts Lord Liu Kang to interject.

“Is everything okay?” He directs the question at you.

“Tell your guard dog to stop stabbing me with his stupid eyes,” you reply, completely exasperated with how dumb all of this is.

From the other end of the table, you hear Johnny start laughing, thud, and that was Kenshi kicking him under the table in response, attempting to get him to stop.

Johnny exclaims, “Ouch, what the fu–”

“– I am not his guard dog!” Bi-Han is angry now, he was mildly amused before, you suspect you’ve managed to hit a nerve. “I am the Grandmaster of the Lin Kuei!”

You roll your eyes at him, “You’re the Grandmaster of stabbing me with your eyes!” You’re not quite sure why you’ve picked this hill to die on, but you’re committed now.

He looks pissed and you feel like you should be intimidated but you’re so irked by his behaviour that you wouldn’t care if he was God itself.

Lord Liu Kang clears his throat from the head of the table, “Maybe you should both apologise to each other and move past this.”

“No.” Both Bi-Han and you reply at the same time.

“Just admit you were staring, and I will apologise to you,” you direct this at Bi-Han.

“I wasn’t staring,” he leans back with his big stupid, defined, arms crossed over his chest.

You feel like you’re going to have an aneurysm, why is he committed to lying about this. “I know you were staring.”

“How would you know that?” He asks.

Is he being intentionally dense, “how could I not know?” You’re glaring back at him.

Lord Liu Kang clasps his hands together, a loud clap sound ringing out across the silence that had fallen over the group. Well, it was almost silent, Johnny is still muffling his laughing down the other end of the table.

“Thank you for dinner, Lord Liu Kang, I’ll be returning to my quarters early tonight.” You stand up and walk out of the room.

You miss the completely confused and exhausted look Kuai Liang gives his older brother.

❆˖°

Tonight, you find yourself tossing and turning, the evenings usually leave you a bit restless and you will fairly regularly leave your quarters to wander the grounds. Though, this evening you are restless for a separate reason, the result is the same, you’re leaving your quarters and wandering the Fire Temple aimlessly, inspecting things you’ve seen daily for months now.

You have got to be kidding, you think to yourself as you feel the all too familiar shiver run down your spine and set of eyes on the back of your head.

Your head drops in defeat and a deep sigh is pulled from your chest, “if I tell you to stop staring, would you? Or would you say you weren’t staring?”

You can feel him come up beside you, “Guess…”

“…I wasn’t staring,” you both say it in tandem, but you attempt to drop your voice as low as it can go to mock him.

He grunts in disapproval at you.

You aren’t sure why he’s come up to you, you’ve sequestered yourself off to a private area of the temple specifically so you could remain undisturbed, but not only did he find you, he fucking stabbed you with his stupid pretty, stupid angry eyes again. You feel like you’re not going to win whatever this battle is against him.

“Genuinely, why do you keep staring at me, and you can’t say you don’t because I know you do, I can feel when your eyes are on me,” you’re getting tired of this now, you just want an answer from him.

He doesn’t speak for a long moment; he’s probably considering how to word what he’s going to say next. All you know is if he says he doesn’t stare at you, you’re literally going to hit him in the face.

“Consider your words carefully, I am tempted to punch you right now,” you relay your feelings to him as a warning.

“I don’t stare–”

That does it, you swing around at him and go to throw a forceful punch aimed square at his nose, you’re aiming to break it. Unfortunately, for all his ego, he is indisputably more skilled than you and easily dodges your punch by moving his head to the side before he catches your forearm with one of his hands. His other hand reaches out to grab at your other arm and pulls you closer to his body, both your arms being held between your bodies. His strength keeping you in place, with his stupid well-defined arms.

You’re a little annoyed at yourself for bothering to warn him at all, you probably could’ve at least grazed him if you hadn’t.

Scowling at him you say, “I shouldn’t have given you a warning.”

“Your hit wouldn’t have landed either way, it was sloppy.”

“It was not!” Your punch was fine, he’s just being rude.

“I was trying to say I don’t stare at you,” you try to wiggle free of his grip, you swear he’s looking for a fight. His hands grab you tighter and pulls your forearms to rest on his chest, you’re forced to look up at him, “Stop, struggling, you’re making this more difficult than it needs to be.”

You gawk at him, “Are you kidding me? You’re the one who won’t admit the simple fact that you’ve been staring at me!”

He looks exhausted with you as he rolls his eyes, when did this switch? He is the unreasonable one, you were willing to apologise hours ago!

“I gaze at you.” He says it like he doesn’t have to explain further.

“I’m almost certain that is the exact same thing as staring at me.” You’re confused.

He grunts and turns his head to the side sharply, “You make everything difficult.”

“ME?” You. Are. Confused.

His head snaps back to stare you in the eyes, “YES! I look at you, I gaze at you, I find you interesting and that makes me mad. This is your fault, take responsibility.”

Oh. My. God. Does he have a crush on you? He likes you and is mad at you about it. Talk about emotionally stunted.

“I am not responsible for how you feel about me.”

“You should be.”

There’s a beat of silence between the two of you, he’s still holding you close.

“You undo me.” He says it quiet, like he’s ashamed of the confession but it’s the highest form of flattery you have ever received.

Your eyes are round in shock as you look at him, you won’t lie, you find yourself drawn to him. Not in spite of his intimidating, stoic nature but because of it, he’s a force of nature to be reckoned with and you think without even realising you walked headfirst into the eye of his storm. You want him and you hate that you do, but you suspect he feels the same way.

“Let me go, please.” You ask him.

He obeys your will, immediately dropping your arms but neither of you make a move to step away from the other. Your heart is racing in your chest as you continue to look up at him, you want to kiss him, but you don’t know how he’ll react to your hands reaching for him after you just tried to deck him.

You don’t have to wonder for long, his hands reach for your face, both of them landing on either side of it. He has such large hands.

“I want to kiss you and you’re going to have to tell me not to, if you don’t want me to.”

You say nothing because you really want him to kiss you and he does; he leans down towards you and when your lips meet you feel like your knees might give out.

His kiss is gentler than you would’ve expected him capable of, he holds you like you’ll break, like he’s all too aware of his strength and is making a conscious effort to not hurt you. One of his hands moves from your face, down your body and grabs at your hip, the other moving behind your neck. Your own hands move to grab at the material on his chest, holding on.

He pulls away from you, only enough to talk, his lips still brushing against yours as he speaks “Fuck, open your mouth more.”

His words shoot straight through your body, you feel like you’re shaking. You do as your told and he moves your head with the hand on the back your neck slightly. When he moves to kiss you again it’s at an angle; his mouth slotting against yours, the kiss deepening. You’re feeling lightheaded as he starts to kiss you with urgency, less gentle. His tongue licking into your mouth has a whimper leaving you against your will. He smirks against your mouth at the sound and pulls away from you.

No one has ever kissed you like that in your life, he’s so much more skilled with his mouth than you would’ve thought. You blink tears away from your eyes as you both stand close together his lips brushing against yours, teasing you.

“Kiss me again, please.”

“mmm, you’re so much more agreeable like this.” He’s smug, you don’t like that his words make your pussy throb.

Opening your mouth, you go to put up a fight, but he puts his mouth back on yours causing you to whine in response. His hands grab you tighter at the sound, and he begins walking you backwards until your back rests against the building you were standing behind.

His other hand moves from behind your neck and down your body, stopping at your tit and pawing at it. You let out a gasp at the feeling, your hands move from his chest to the back of his neck, pulling him closer to you. His hand leaves your breast and travels the length of your body, landing on your thigh, he pulls your leg up to rest on his hip.

He won’t move any closer, and you think he’s trying to be polite and not push you further than you want, but you want him so badly. Whining against him you use your leg to pull his hips into yours and he grunts against you.

Parting your lips again he looks at you, he seems pleased with the look on your face, “You look so pretty, eyes all glazed over from a kiss.”

The words are mocking but your reactions to him seem to inflate his ego, not that he needs the boost.

“I’ve never been kissed like that,” you find yourself admitting to him.

A faux pity look falls across his features, “Poor, sweet, girl, never been kissed properly.” He noses at the side of your face before his lips rest against your ear. He blows cool air against it and an involuntary shiver runs down your spine.

“mmf, not fair, you’re teasing me.” He’s mean but its turning you on to no end.

“Yeah, but I think you like it,” he pulls back to look you in the eyes again, “isn’t that right?”

A blush breaks out across your skin in response to him, you can tell it’s not a rhetorical question, but you don’t answer him.

Your lack of a response displeases him, his voice comes a little firmer, “I want an answer when I ask a question.”

“Yes, I like it.” Being forced to admit that you like how mean he is to you is embarrassing.

“I know you do.” He’s smug again, not that he ever stopped.

His lips are so close to yours, you lean forward slightly to kiss him, but he pulls away at the last second. Your head drops back against the wall, and he chuckles at you. Leaning forward again, he kisses your neck, before lightly sucking marks into it.

He mouths at the length of your neck, savouring the way you twitch and try to contain the noises you make in response. The hand holding your hip moves under your robe to cup your pussy through your panties, a whine louder than you would’ve liked is pulled from you, your blush deepening at the sound.

He talks into your neck as his fingers trace the seam of your cunt through your underwear, “You’re so sensitive, react to the smallest of my touches.”

His fingers continue to touch you through your panties, two of his fingers moving to part your lips through them. An embarrassingly wet squelching sound results from his actions. A strangled noise comes from deep in his chest and he moves his head back and looks up for a second, “Fuckin – you are so fucken, wet and I’ve not even touched you properly.” He’s looking you back in your eyes, his gaze dark, he looks like he’s being eaten alive, or wants to eat you alive.

Your cheeks feel like they’re on fire, he talks so much, in fact, you think this is the most he’s spoken to you without you having to reply.

“Bi-Han, please –”

“Mmm say my name again.” He’s lightly grazing the seam of your pussy, never touching your clit.

“Bi-Han,” you repeat his name for him.

His voice sounds strained, “What do you want, sweet girl?”

The nickname he’s graced you with makes your heart skip, “please, touch me… properly.”

“Since you asked so sweetly.” His hand leaves you temporarily to slip down the front of your underwear, his fingers slide through your cunt, and he can feel just how wet you are now. “Jesus – ” He curses at the feel of you.

His mouth captures yours in a heated kiss again as his middle finger slowly enters you, you clench around it and you both moan into the kiss. His thumb slowly rubs circles on your clit, you jump at the contact, sensitive from neglect and desire. You’re trying to hold back whines and moans, still aware that you’re out in the open. Bi-Han doesn’t seem to care and if he does, he isn’t letting on.

He pulls back from your mouth, “God, you’re fucken – how am I gonna – fuck, look at you.”

You’re trying to grind down on his hand, desperate for more, anything he’ll give you; you’ll take; you just need more.

Gasping you say, “more Bi-Han, please.”

“Always asking so sweetly,” He slips his ring finger inside you, filling you up more. One of your hands moves from behind his neck to cover your mouth, attempting to muffle the moans trying to come out.

Both of his hands are occupied, one on your thigh holding your leg to his hip and the other stuffing your dripping wet cunt full, the sounds coming from you are making him feral and he wants your hand off your mouth. Now.

“Remove your hand, now.” He shoots you a fierce glare and you comply straight away, hand removing from your mouth and grabbing onto the arm of the hand inside you. His fingers move quicker inside you, reaching deep, hitting something that’s never been touched, your head falls back, and a whine comes from deep in your chest.

“Fuuuck, thas it, thas what I was looking for,” Bi-Han seems overjoyed at your reaction, your eyes wet and glassy from pleasure.

You aren’t sure if your hand is trying to push him away or pull him closer, your breaths are coming faster and another moan is pulled from you as he speeds up his thumb on your clit.

“fff – Bi-Han, I can’t, is too much.” It feels too good, it’s never felt like this before.

“Shuddup, you’re fine,” He leans forward so his mouth is by your ear again, “You’ve been doing so well, baby, come for me and then I’ll stuff you full of my dick, mmm?”

“ah ah, it’s different, too much – ngh –”

“Poor baby, never been finger fucked this good, mmm?” He doesn’t slow down; it feels like he speeds up.

Your moans hit a higher pitch and you feel like you’re falling apart into the palm of his hand, “thas it, doing so good,” he keeps whispering praise into your ear and then he blows cool air against your ear again. The shiver that runs through your body has your eyes crossing as you cum all over his fingers and palm with a shout of his name. He moans at the feel of your cunt spasming around his fingers.

“Thas fucken it, good girl, shit –” His fingers continue pumping into you until you start flinching away from him.

He removes his fingers from your pulsing pussy, and sucks both of them clean before shoving them in your mouth. You suck his spit and your cum from his fingers, his eyes glazing over as he watches you suck on his fingers.

He retracts his fingers from your mouth slowly and traces them down your chin, neck and chest, leaving behind a wet trail as he goes.

“Can we have sex now, please?” You ask him, you feel insatiable, he makes you insatiable.

He looks like he might melt into a puddle on the floor at your words, “yes, fuckin hell, you have beautiful manners, sweet thing.”

He pulls his pants down enough for his dick to be released from its confines, and, he was right before, how is he going to fit. “Bi-Han, you might be too big.”

“Jesu – you really know how to inflate a mans ego,” you aren’t meaning to, you are genuinely concerned he might not completely fit, “we’re gonna fucken make it fit, you okay with that?” he asks you.

You nod your head instantly, you can take it, you want to take it.

“Fucken, eager,” He states, if anyone else had said it you’d feel offended, but you know he means it as a compliment.

He spits on his hand and grabs his dick, lubing it up to make the glide easier. The display is filthy and has you wanting to get on your knees for him.

“You ready?” he asks you, and every time he checks on you it has you going dizzy.

“I’m ready,” you smile up at him, as he moves your panties to the side.

“Fuck, alright, try and relax.” He guides his cock through your slick folds, rubbing the head of it against your clit.

Slowly, he begins to push the head of his dick into your pussy hole, it’s already a tight fit. You reach out and place your palm on his shoulder, indicating to him to hold still for a minute. He stops moving forward with just his tip in you, a pinched look on his face, like he’s in pain.

“Goddamn, you’ve got such a – ngh, tight little cunt,” he sputters out, he’s doing deep breathing exercises as he waits for your okay to keep going, “mmph, trying not to cum like a fucken teenager, you’ve got a – ngh – beautiful pussy.”

You involuntarily clench around him at his words, and he grunts in response, “please, keep going, Bi-Han.”

He nods his head and continues to slowly inch into you, pausing every now and again to give you time to adjust to him. When he’s finally fully seated inside you, he lets out a deep guttural groan, you can feel his chest rumble with it. He’s so fucking big and you feel so full of him.

“Got the tightest pussy I’ve ever been in, Jesus – ngh – such a perfect – ” your cunt flutters around him at his words, “mph, you fucken like that don’t you?”

You don’t fully register that he’s asked you a question because he’s started fucking you now, and it nearly has you going cross eyed.

“Hey! I fucken – mph – asked you a question,” you make eye contact with him, eyes glazed as you look at him, “ffffucken beautiful, you look perfect, just, like, this, split open on my – ngh – cock.” He’s barely keeping it together as he starts fucking up into you.

“I said, you fucken like it when I talk to you, mmh?” He asks you again and you understand him this time.

Nodding your head you reply, “Yes I – ah – I love it when you talk to me.” You’re practically a whimpering mess at this point, “Can you go faster, plea- ah –”

Your question is cut off by his immediate acceleration in thrusts, he wanted to fuck you faster as much as you wanted him too, maybe more. Looking at the pinched look on his face you can guess he’s still holding himself back, still too aware of his own strength.

“Hah – harder, please, Bi-Han.” You can feel his dick twitch at the sound of his name coming from your lips.

“Fffff, like it rough, do you, sweet girl?” He huffs.

You agree, you think you’d agree to anything he asked of you right now.

“You are so sweet, compliant when you’re filled with my dick” he chuckles at you, but his words have your pussy clenching around him, breaking his laugh into a broken moan.

You’re gonna come, “Bi-Han, mm gonna come, please.”

“go on then, fucken – nghf – good girl, sweeeet fucken cunt. Cover my dick in your cum, go on.” Your eyes prickle with tears, you don’t think you’ve ever been this aroused in your whole life.

He’s staring down at where you’re connected, obsessed with way your cunt is creaming on his cock, forming a ring around the base of his dick, has him almost feral.

“Fuck, fuck, Bi-Han, I’m – mmph – ” He cuts off your words with a deep kiss, tongue in your mouth, taking your breath away. Bi-Han’s thumb reaches for your clit and starts rubbing harsh and fast circles into it, his precise movements and unrelenting thrusts has you coming on his dick, hard. You throw your head back, removing your lips from his, your vision cuts off dark and you can barely hear anything with the force of which you cum.

Your mouth opening in a silent scream and then a series of whimpers spill from your lips. When you can speak, you’re praising Bi-Han, wet slapping sounds continuing, he’s not stopped thrusting chasing his own peak.

“you look fucken perfect when you cum, look – ngh – so fucked out, such a good girl – taking my cock, mph,” He’s close you can tell, his dick is twitching inside you, “the sounds you make are – sshit – mmph – angelic.”

He’s such a flatterer, your cunt jumps in after shock, you decide you wanna try something. You pull his head towards you, moving your lips to his ear to tell him, “made me feel so good, Grandmaster, never cum that hard in my – ngh – life.”

You were right, he liked that, loved being called Grandmaster, his grunts and groans get louder, tailing off into whimpers. His head drops to your shoulder, resting there for a bit.

“Where – hah – where do you want it?” He asks.

“Inside please, Grandmaster, I want it, in – mmph – me.”

He whimpers at your words, “Ahh – fuck you’re gonna fucking kill me, sweet girl – nngh.”

And then he’s coming, he fills you, both of you moaning at the feeling of him releasing all of his cum inside of you, he turns his head into your neck and bites you, the shock of it has your cunt clenching on his dick.

He’s making the most amazing noises, grunting and groaning at the feel of you wrapped around him. His own cum dripping down the sides of his cock, he’s staring at it now, watching the way he moves in and out of you, the way his cum leaks out of you, down your thighs, and down his cock.

You both stay connected for a bit afterwards, basking in your highs before parting. When Bi-Han does pull out, his fingers move to shove the cum leaking out of you back inside before shifting your panties back in place. He gently places your leg back down, before tucking himself back in his pants.

You stay resting your weight up against the wall, you’re not certain you can walk, your legs feel like they might cave in if you try to move.

“I like you,” Bi-Han says simply.

“I’d hope so,” you reply, smiling brightly at him. He looks soft for you. “I suppose, I like you too, even if you do stare at me.”

“I don’t stare.”

❆˖°

Part two

A/N: The end, I’m interested in making a second part for this if people want it, I’m also willing to write for almost every mk1 character. I disappeared because I inhaled the new game, long time mk whore over here. Requests are open if anyone wants to ask for someone specific. And if any of my Crushing series peoples read this, I am writing the fourth part, and it will definitely come out this month!

#subzero #subzero x reader #subzero smut #subzero x reader smut #bi han x reader #bi han x reader smut #fanfic #bi han x you #smut #mk1 #mk1 2023 #mk1 smut

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ramjam-jamming · 7 months

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Thinking about AU....dnlwlwpdlfod

I enjoyed the ending but I can't stop thinking about how it is/was to be fused with Golb for Betty. Like? Was it painful? Was she fighting to keep him in control? Or was she just. Chilling. Idk

I also like to think that there's a part in both of them that is still deeply in love with each other, but they have accepted that their relationship wasn't the best, and they also can't see each other because she is in,,, wherever Golb is.

And in this AU, with time, Betty slowly melts within Golb, losing her control/sanity, to the point where they end up being one and the same completely. Simon's presence helps her get a grip, but the more time she spends far away from him (and anyone else) she descends more and more. In the end, she fully "transcends" (whatever that means), perhaps reaching some sort of enlightenment, and becomes fully fused with Golb. But also somewhat fulfilled and happy (?) Like she found her purpose independently from Simon. But also she's kinda insane. And a chaos god who craves destruction. So yk.

Or, her love for Simon mixing with Golb, it could create this sort of fixation/fascination, observing him in every universe. It gets to a point where she has watched his every second on every universe, and craving more, she starts haunting Simon in his dreams.

I'm still building this AU so nothing is set on stone. Just thoughts (??

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charmedreincarnation · 1 year

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A basic Intro to The Void State: Entering the Pure State of Consciousness

Have you ever heard of the Void State? It is a pure state of consciousness that monks have talked about for centuries. This state of mind allows one to enter a space of pure potentiality, where creativity and manifestation can freely flow. It is not something that is hard to achieve; in fact, anyone can get into this state with some simple techniques. So, what is the Void State and how can you get into it?

What is the Void State?

The Void State is a state of pure consciousness, where there is no thought, no ego, and no external stimuli. In this state, one is free from the constraints of the mind, and is able to connect with their true essence. This state is also known as the state of pure potentiality, as one is able to tap into the infinite possibilities of the Universe. It is the space where all creative energy flows from.

History of Monks and the Void State

Monks have been practicing meditation for centuries, and have been able to enter the Void State through these practices. It is said that Buddha himself reached enlightenment through meditation, where he was able to enter the Void State and connect with his true essence. Monks have found that through mindfulness and silent meditation, one can enter the Void State and connect with the infinite possibilities of the Universe.

Appearance of the Void State in Religion

The Void State can be found in many religions around the world, such as Buddhism, Hinduism, and Taoism. In these religions, the Void State is known as Samadhi, Nirvana, and Wu Wei, respectively. In each of these religions, the Void State is seen as the state where one can connect with the divine and the infinite possibilities of the Universe. It is a state where one can find inner peace and enlightenment.

As we know in It’s simplest form, the void state is an experience of complete emptiness and stillness, where the mind is completely silent and there are no thoughts or sensations. This state is often described as a feeling of oneness with the universe, where the boundaries between the self and the external world dissolve, and the individual consciousness merges with the larger consciousness of the universe.

In many religious traditions, the void state is considered to be the ultimate goal of spiritual practice, as it represents a state of enlightenment and liberation from the cycle of suffering and rebirth. In Buddhism, for example, the void state is known as Nirvana, which can be translated as "extinction" or "blowing out," referring to the cessation of suffering and the release from the cycle of rebirth.

The history of monks and other spiritual practitioners in various traditions is often linked to the pursuit of the void state. For example, in Buddhism, monks and nuns devote their entire lives to meditation practice in order to achieve enlightenment, which is seen as the ultimate goal of human existence.

The void state can also be found in other religious traditions, such as Taoism and some forms of Christianity. In Taoism, for example, the Tao Te Ching speaks of the importance of emptiness and stillness in achieving harmony with the universe, while in Christianity, contemplative prayer and meditation are used to achieve a deeper connection with God.

Despite its association with religious practice and spiritual discipline, the void state is not inaccessible or difficult to achieve. In fact, many people can experience this state of consciousness through simple techniques such as breath awareness, relaxation, and visualization.

Other manifesters and spiritual teachers, such as Abraham Hicks and Eckhart Tolle, also emphasize the importance of mindfulness and being present in the moment as a way to access the void state and achieve greaterpeace and harmony in one's life.

So no, a bunch of teen girls on tumblr did not discover nor did we make up this concept. Take it off the pedestal rn! it’s been here since the dawn of time, and will be continued to be used even if you choose to give up. so it doesn’t matter how many creators or anons lie about achieving it lol. we’re not the only ones pursuing this journey, so do some research outside of tumblr please.

Easy Ways to Get into the Void State

Entering the Void State is not as hard as one might think. One simple technique is mindfulness meditation, where one focuses on their breath and brings their attention to the present moment. This technique helps to calm the mind and enter a state of pure consciousness. Another technique is to simply sit in silence and let go of all thoughts and external stimuli. This can be done for a few minutes every day, and can help one to connect with their true essence and the infinite possibilities of the Universe.

Another technique for entering the void state is through the use of affirmations and visualization.By focusing on positive, affirming thoughts and visualizing themselves in a state of emptiness and stillness, individuals can begin to access the void state and experience the peace and clarity that comes with it.

Another technique to achieve the void state is to use delta waves, which are a type of brainwave that is associated with deep sleep and meditation. By listening to Delta wave music or binaural beats, one can easily enter into a relaxed state and experience the benefits of the void state.

Many manifesters, such as Neville Goddard, have talked about the power of the Void State in manifesting one’s desires. By entering the Void State, one is able to tap into the creative energy of the Universe and manifest their desires into reality. Neville Goddard talked about the power of visualization in entering the Void State, where one can visualize their desires as already being fulfilled. This technique helps to align one’s thoughts and energy with their desires, and enter the state of pure potentiality!

I’m listing the popular ways, but you can truly use whatever methods or non method you prefer! Whatever method you have successfully used to manifest in the past, and you feel confident about, use that for the void state. You don’t have to start a new journey when you find a new concept if you have one that works for you already.

Anyways I wanted to make this post because I get so many asks about the void state when it’s honestly one of the more simipilar forms of manifesting. I’m going to answer a lot of them here, so I don’t get them rundunatly in my ask :)!

Q: can I manifest anything, revise my entire life, manifest my sp, becoming a billionaire, become a cat?!!

A: yes you can do anything. Anything. No more can I do this questions. You know the answer and if you keep worrying about your doubts you need to work on your self concept

Q: are our desires immediate?

A: yea if that’s what you want

Q: is it better to wake up in the void or enter the void

A: that depends on you. If you hate awake methods and symptoms or whatever use a sleep method. If you don’t mind it and see better results doing awake methods, so an awake methods. For my ND people it’s better to do sleep methods imo but don’t limit yourself to others experiences either

Q: can I enter the void if I’m autistic/depressed/ have anxiety/ adhd

A: yes I’m all of those things. Why would the law only be for neurotypical people?

Q:can I shift or astral project using the void state

A: yes of course you can, you can use it for anything

Q: can I use lucid dreaming to enter the void ?

A: yes I have a guide in my pinned that covers that

Q: if you’re a master of the void state why isn’t your life perfect and bad things still happen

A: if you have this mentality you’re odd. Everyone on here is still human. And tbh once you’ve reached this place in your journey, you’re not revising every little thing in your life. We want to feel human, and have human experiences. We know we are safe and everything will always work out in our favor. Life isn’t a constant manifesting checklist to become the ultimate unscathed,unhurt god. That seems very weird and would give me cognitive dissonance. My life is already greater than most just because I found the law. Will I revise a bad test score. Yes. But I’m not revising every little thing that makes me sad, mad or is inconvenient to me.

Q: if you can enter easily why not manifest for all of tumblr

A: my reality is my reality, your reality is your reality. If it was that easy we would. When you enter the void you’re free to manifest for all of tumblr :)!

Q: In your opinion what stops people from entering the void

A: I would say procrastination. Not in a bad way, but most of the the time we see our desires in the future tense. “I cant wait to get my desires.” We can see our desires in the future, our future selves living our life shut rarely do we imagine us with them right now. More like watching a movie of ourselves in the future with our desires which just keeps delaying them. Identity with the inner man, not your future self.

Q: can you succeed even with bad circumstances

A: most of us found this because of bad circumstances. Of course you can

Anyways, I just wanted to make this post bc I get so many questions about it! If you want more specific content related to the void I recommend these creators: @gorgeouslypink @sanita223 @itsravenbitch @kissmebadkarmauh @blushydior and ofc @voidsuccess

I talk about everything in a generalized way but I’m more catered to shifting! These bloggers will show you the best methods, videos, and techniques related to the void imo, but don’t over consume <3!!!

#law of assumption #manifesation #void state #manifesting #void success

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bakugoushotwife · 7 months

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kinktober day fifteen: brat-taming kink

>>> god bless i love him so bad...brain rot for this plot...y'all should i make this one like a series fdskjkjgjkgj i swear to god i'm feeling this way about all my fics as of late!! this one has a lot of japanese symbolism and traditions included. i am not japanese and all my research came from different sources across google, but if anything is incorrect or insensitive pls reach out and let me know <3

>>> starring: suguru geto x curvy!f!reader >>> cw: brat-taming, history/pining between reader and geto, face-fucking (m!receiving) edging (f!receiving), fingering (f!receiving), breeding, degradation/praise, pet names, creampie >>> wc: 4.6k >>> event masterlist:

he didn’t love the idea, to say the least. he understands why a marriage is necessary. it humanizes him, makes him relatable, opens the door to more preaching topics. he didn’t understand why he had to marry his fellow sorcerer and old classmate—especially one as mouthy as you. you didn’t either, forced into it by the higher ups with hopes you could bring suguru back to the right side of history, not taking your feelings into the matter at all, not that you expected them to. but you’re sure they already knew you wouldn’t be able to complete this mission—perhaps they hoped for your death at his hand.

at one point, you were friends. now, you were about to become the unwilling misses geto, though even that was more complicated than it seems. you were the third musketeer back in the day. even shoko preferred to stay out of the boys’ shenanigans, sticking to herself or utahime, not bothered in the slightest to let you chase after satoru and suguru. you were closer to the latter, finding it easy to gang up on the former together. he entertained your wit and you let him try out new moves on you. you loved each other. that’s why it hurt so bad—still hurts to this day—that he left and turned into this. and now you’re stuck in the thick of it.

you make him beyond angry. putting aside your utter disrespect and disobedience, you remind him of nothing but conflicting times, things he’d rather not think about now that those days were supposed to be far behind him. you hadn’t changed a bit from the day he left, and he hates that even more. you’re lively and talented, your powers long abused by the very higher ups that contributed to his madness and the ones that leveraged you into this ceremony. when he was told of your engagement, he could have refused and had them find him a new wife. he could have killed them all and refused this altogether—he’s not quite sure why he said yes. he pulls on his hakama trousers, smoothing at the pleats as he racks his brain. he slings his haori around his shoulders, and he realizes a small part of him may have always wanted to marry you; he remembers fantasies of you in high school, recalling how badly he yearned for your affection. and he hates that more than anything.

he knows you feel similarly about him, hence all your acting up. you had been short and cold and almost satoru level snotty with him through the engagement parties and wedding planning and obligatory dinners. you have the nerve to sneer as you speak and look at him with nothing but disgust. he’s the one who should be disgusted with you. you chose to stay with gojo over him, chose that world of lies and injustice when you could have been enlightened like him from the beginning. it’s only fitting you’re his bride, really. it’s what he deserves, as retribution for your betrayal. and he would make sure to claim what was his on his wedding night. the servants come to get him as he shrugs into his montsuki with a new smug smile replacing what was a dreading frown.

you wore a red iro-uchikake. and you look like a dream he had when he was a teenager. it’s ironic really. he knows not wearing the more traditional and all white shiromuku was another one of your jabs, but the color red was more significant to him than white. it means life, it wards off all evils. perhaps you knew that too, and that’s why you chose the color, though geto remembers you wearing the deep blood color often enough through adolescence that seeing you in it again makes some of the tightness in his chest let off just a little bit, even as you avoid his eyes.

he looked magnificent. his hair had grown longer, and you had always liked to play with it before, but now it cascades over his shoulder in waves despite the top-bun halving the thickness. you could hear your heart pound. if you were to tell the second year version of yourself that you would be sharing a wedding temple with suguru geto, you may have cried from relief and happiness. but as you get closer to him with no guests to witness this other than the priest and a handful of temple ladies, you feel the coursing energy of excitement and nerves. you aren’t sure what to expect from him now that no one will be watching. you don’t even truly know how he feels for you. he has been making attempts to earn your favor, but that was because he had a crowd.

he takes your hand and smiles down at you like he did when you were much younger and much less conflicted over your feelings. it makes your heart flutter like it used to, and your eyes widen a bit at his gentility. the priest offers his blessings to the gods as you two stand before him, hand-in-hand. your mind races. how much of this is real? and even if he’s being genuine, does it really matter? after everything he put you through, all the things he had done, the things he wants to do, can you look past it all just to love him anyway?

the temple servants set up the sakazuiki. they space the three ceremonial cups evenly apart, and fill them with the richest sake. san-san-kudo. you bite your lip, hating yourself for your doubt. suguru gently pulls you out of your head and towards the table, to the binding ceremony of old tradition. he picks up the first cup, holding it to his face.

“you look beautiful, okusan.” he smirks over the cup, looking oddly satisfied with himself, like he knows something you don’t. he then sips the first cup three times, holding your eyes. you feel your body burn, looking down at the kimono you chose and back to him. his fingers lightly brush against yours as you take the cup. you feel butterflies.

“thank you, geto-san.” you tilt your head down to indicate your grace, thoughts fuzzied by his intense stare and old feelings bubbling up your gut. you sip three times, and he picks up the next sakazuiki. he chuckles, and you swear you see a little bit of light in his deep eyes.

“are you waiting for titles until the conclusion of the ceremony, anata?” he piles on the mulit-meaning endearment, passing you the second cup. you nearly choke on your sake.

“no. you look very nice, uchi no hito.” you take your final sip, and it’s geto’s turn to stammer. he expected a tsureai or muko, but the one you chose had so much meaning. your home, your person. that’s what you called him. he knew the shock and wonder had to show on his face based off of your smug grin whenever you set the cup down. you think you can toy with him, pull stunts with him. you’re much too bold—and he wants to hate it, he wants to smother that personality right out of you, but for now–he’ll let himself love it.

“this binds us through our love, wisdom, and happiness.” he says the words to bring you together officially, tying your souls together for better or worse. he sips from the final cup three times, the symbolism not lost on you, and passes it to you to do the same.

“this binds us through our hatred, passion, and ignorance.” you look him in the eyes as you take your drinks, and his dark pink lips stretch into a wide smile.

“and now you are mine. how lucky we are to be brought back to each other in this way.” he chums, taking the wedding rings from his pocket as the priest continues offering his prayers to the skies. you hold out your hand expectantly, and he arches a brow.

“nine is not a lucky number, perhaps we’re cursed instead.” you shrug, that same smugness tugging at your lips. oh, you’re going to drive him crazy. you give him hope and you pull it away, you jab at him and you’re so gorgeous that he can’t even be upset with you for it. he slides the diamond encrusted with black gems down your third finger, giving you a smug smile of his own. he can play dirty too. he extends the box to you and you pluck his gold band from it, sliding it slowly down his finger. the excitement builds in your gut as you become more and more okay with whatever this is. you always thought he had a point. the jujutsu society was so horribly fucked up–maybe he was right all along and you were the coward after all. i mean, where did all your loyalty get you? sold off to a dangerous man with hopes to shut you up for good? passed around mission to mission until your body barely functioned anymore? maybe you could turn a blind eye to all his indiscretions, especially when he’s looking at you with such affection in once cold eyes. you still hold his hand in both of yours, and he enjoys the warmth, but you’ve pushed and poked him just enough, these teasing touches part of them.

instead of a kiss to seal this union once more, he leans down to your ear. “go get changed. i like simple lingerie.” he all but purrs in your ear, sending shivers down your spine at the order. you were losing sight of yourself at a rapid pace. you had hoped to hold out longer than this. his lips tickle the shell of your ear and a soft gasp leaves you. you tell yourself to be strong.

“and if i don’t? you’d be lucky to sleep with me at all, husband.” you sneer, and again he doesn’t know what to make of you, but he’s dedicated to figuring it out. he leans up and tilts his head, analyzing the lust in your eyes and the shakiness in your hands. he laughs at you when he realizes.

“go get changed, little pet. we’ll discuss your guilt and attitude later.” he shakes his head at you, his gaze making you feel as if you were already undressed before him. he turns, tossing that confident smirk over his shoulder again for good measure. “red is your color.”

and then the temple girls are at your side, ready to escort their new geto-sama to her new room in the geto estate.. you allow them, trailing silently as you wonder just what he was able to figure out by looking at you, and what lingerie you would put on for him.

you choose a red babydoll dress. the sheer plunging neckline leaves little to the imagination and the tight fit of the lace leaves even less. it fans out from your body from there, the fluffy hem stopping just below your ass. seeing yourself in the mirror, perched perfectly at the end of the bed, you smile. you imagine that qualifies as simple, though you’re sure it will still make him crazy for you. you’re embarrassed to want that, to dress yourself up and present yourself to him just as he asked. your friends would be ashamed, namely one. but as the door creaks open and you feel an icy stare raking over your body, you can’t quell your excitement.

he hums approvingly as the door clicks shut behind him. he’s so grateful he didn’t deny this union out of his own narrow minded rage. he never thought he would see you again after you denied him the first time, but here you are, on the bed you two would soon share in his home, now branded with his last name— all wrapped up like a christmas present.

“sugurin–” the old nickname flies off your tongue in your haste, and a fondness glosses over the devious intent in his eyes. you clear your throat and tug the sides of your dress down pathetically. “i... actually don’t know what to say.” you blink in realization, painfully aware of how alone you two are. was he still the same man you knew?

“don’t worry, kibōchi.” he returns his own nickname, the way you squirm in your place at the sound of it wasn’t lost on him, though the name puts you at was in the same way it stirs you up. his desire returns at your doe-eyed stare, you trust him to some extent, even through your wariness. “i’ll start. you were assigned to marry me, no?”

you nod your head, now knowing he wouldn’t hurt you, not with the fondness in which he says your name. your core tingles as he approaches you, a scarily sweet smile on his face.

“good. thank you for your honesty, anata girl.” he nods, sliding his crested black kimono off, the only proper covering of your wedding remaining on his body, for your convenience if anything. “and you’ve been such a brat because…? which is it: you’re mad at them, mad at me, or mad at yourself?”

you furrow your brows at his words. it seemed he learned everything in just an extended look at you. “am not a brat.” you fold your arms in indignation, incidentally proving him right. he just shakes his head, chuckling again.

“look at you. you didn’t answer my question and you’re pouting like a toddler.” he lets his gaze drift down to your body just begging for his touch. he can’t help but wonder what you’ll like and what your favorite position will be and how fertile you are and what kind of drive you’ll have, all things he never learned about you when you were just friends. you feel his scrutiny and fight through your mixed feelings to respond.

“can’t it be a mixture of all three?” you sigh out shakily, deciding to stick to your guns even if you want him, too.

he clicks his tongue in consideration. “i suppose. but the sorcerers of your past no longer have any influence over your life. and you should be more forgiving to yourself, even if you are being a snot.”

you scrunch your nose up in distaste, hating how his words soothe your heart. “you conveniently left yourself out of that equation.” you fold your arms and it only pushes your chest out more. you’re impossible, and it’s hard for him not to smirk at you. you’re powerless, he knows and you know it—yet you fight anyway. it’s precious.

“i don’t regret leaving. i did the right thing.” he says, head held high. his devotion is moving, even when he looks at you with such a mixed bag of emotions. “i missed you however. i accepted this union to see you again.”

you can tell from his eyes that his emotion is genuine, but it still shoots pangs through your heart as you recall days spent in bed crying over his absence. you turn your head away so the influence of his obsidian stare couldn’t cut so deep. “you left me.”

“you didn’t join me when i asked you to.” he retorts, clenching his jaw at your argumentative nature. “i came back, just for you.”

“you came back to use me.” you spit, echoing the words of your other classmates. the look in your eyes is angry, this was something you genuinely believed. that infuriates him. “you were going to leverage me, until you provoked him.”

his jaw ticks again. “and who told you this, satoru? i would have thought you knew me best.” he sighs his disappointment, grabbing your hands. he pulls you off the bed, your knees buckling you into a stand—then he roughly grabs your cheeks to make you look at him. “or did you forget just how close we were? how deeply i loved you then, all the time we spent together? you’re the one who betrayed me. you were mine! mine, you were supposed to be mine and you stayed with him!” his voice rises just a bit with his frustration, but he drops his grip on you and steps back, “i would have done anything to take you with me. and everything…could have been the same, i would have kept you safe and away from this life. We could have had so much more time together—and you’re being so goddamn bratty now that i have you back…what am i to do with you?”

you blink rapidly at his speech washes over you. did he really mean it, that he just wanted you to have you? you were never intended to be used as a bargaining chip, and you let everyone else warp the vision of the man you once held so dear? you shake your head violently, rejecting the idea. he rakes his hands over his face, fed up with the back and forth. “i’ve compartmentalized you out over the years. but i have you back, and i refuse to waste any more time.”

“i’m sorry sugurin—i thought you hated me!” you defend, reaching for him. he grabs your wrists again and plants your hands on his chest, moving his touch to your face.

“then make it up to me.” he orders with a fervent nod, his hold on your face firm but comforting. you surprise him by leaning up and closing the remaining distance to kiss him, balling up his shirt in your fists. you were absolutely insufferable, annoying, bratty, and irritating—but he could do this forever. feeling you move with such passion, vigorously pulling at him and finally giving in to all those pent up feelings was enough to prompt him to do the same. he memorizes your taste for a while before he pulls away and directs you to your knees with his signature rough handling, though he’s still careful not to hurt you. “i want you to really make it up to me.”

you nod eagerly and shove your hair over your shoulders while he frees his waiting ache. he can hardly stand the sight of you on your knees under him, massive cock creating a shadow over your obedient and eager face. as gorgeous as you are like this, it was too late to make up for your transgressions. you salivate at the sight of his impressive length standing proud over you, curved and so long he leans to one side with a thickness you know will make even your throat burn. your mouth parts for him immediately, slick sliding down the insides of your thighs at the idea of relieving his drooling slit. “you’re gonna have to open wider than that, okusan.”

and he helps you do so, planting his broad callused hands firmly on each side of your face, bumping his cockhead against your puffy bottom lip and shoving himself into your silky walls. you moan out in surprise and relax your throat, making your new husband grin at the performance. He’s perhaps unintentionally violent as he sheaths to the hilt, your nose bumping against black coarse hair above his shaft. “there, there.”

he pats your cheek patronizingly, flicking away a tear that formed. “don’t cry, kibōchi. you were made for this.” he coos affectionately, body growing hot to the touch at his vision. he knew this was a great start to teaching you your place in life, and that being a brat was not one of them. running away was not one of them, you were permanently his and he would never let you go again. he pulls your head back off with that grip to use you, plunging your throat back down on him and biting down on his lip to keep his own sounds from interrupting your gorgeous gags.

“don’t you like this so much better than acting snotty, sweet wife?” he teases only slightly, taking your teary eyes flicking up to look at him as a yes. you can feel him deep, that burning sensation that you knew would come starting to sting your vocal cords. “you take me so well, i’ve always told you sorcery wasn’t for you. this is all you need to do forever.”

you moan at the idea, him keeping you home to take after the estate and maybe even caring for the kids you may have in the future. he chortles, pleasantly surprised by you yet again. “you think you’re clever, darling. acting all sweet now so i’ll forget all about your behavior, hm?”

he pulls you off with a lewd pop, pushing at the wimpy straps of your dress with a satisfied hum as the fabric falls away from your chest. “too bad. get on the bed.”

your heart raced, but you nod. your throat was too hoarse to speak anyway. you weren’t planning anything, you felt like liquid, you had given into your vows and let suguru take you mind, body, and spirit—and he hadn’t even touched you yet. you wobble up to your feet and he slaps your ass when you turn it to him, which makes you gasp and stumble forward. he hums, predatory narrow eyes watching you climb up and lay in the center of the large mattress. he wastes no time in positioning over you. he spits, thumbing his lube over your sensitivity. he pins your fluffy dress up over your stomach, lulling you into sweet moans, your high building in your stomach rapidly. he doesn’t know where to look, you’re all too perfect. the faces you make, your beautiful, slobber-soaked mouth pouting out all your pleasures, your gorgeous tits sitting so prettily in wait for him. then there was your weeping cunt, so pathetically soaked just from sucking him off.

“su–gu-rin~” you whimper out a little, your legs trying to close around his large body mass as the feeling becomes more intense. he hums, smacking your cunt.

“brats don’t get to cum.” he shrugs, licking and biting at the insides of your thighs to tease you further. your plush skin is so sensitive, and he loves watching the way you squirm to get away from his canines scraping your flesh. you gasp in anger, orgasm ruined the longer he refuses to touch where you need him most.

“brat?—you’re really gonna be mean to me, uchi no hito?” you pout, and he can feel his heart pang at the insistence and the sweet way you call him yours. you’re softening his heart already. he still had the want to punish you, but the need to claim you was surely fighting back.

“then apologize for your behavior or you won’t cum at all.” he sits up a bit, tossing some hair over his shoulder. you bat your lashes at him, knowing he was hurt by your choice, just like you were hurt by his. but now there was a chance to make it right, to be together forever like you were meant to–and if you had to apologize for your doubts in him, you would sing them loudly.

“oh—sugurin, i’m sorry! i really am,” his fingers squeeze and toy with your clit, making your body jump as you try to stutter through your words. “just mi-missed you, that’s all, was mean because i missed y-you!” you writhe and wiggle closer and away from his touch simultaneously, and he hums happily at your speech.

“that’s better.” he hums approvingly, pushing your legs up to your chest. he wants you to feel this as much and as deeply as possible. “such a good girl, did i tell you how beautiful you look okusan?”

you nod, feeling the well of nerves heating up in your core, his hands resting on your knees as he looks over the disheveled lingerie. “told me at the wedding…” you sniffle, wiggling your hips for his attention again.

“i see.” he frowns, as if disappointed by your answer. his hands feel your thighs and trail back to your knees, getting his hands closer and closer to where you needed him most with each pass. you whine desperately, and he hums out in fake curiosity, “what is it, darling?”

“need you to touch me—please.” you squirm, giving him those irresistible doe-eyes. he planned to make you beg much harder than that, but you had him worked all the way up, your body, behavior, and the history between you was setting him on fire.

“oh i’ll make you cum, kibōchi.” he moves his grip to the backs of your thighs as he moves his hips forward. you try to prepare yourself but it’s no use, he plunges in without any hesitation or resistance on your part. it aches, you clench down at the spread and his thumb comes back to your clit to rub the pain away. “but you can only do it on my dick. got it?”

you nod slowly and his hips set a pace. he’s so deep you can barely believe he’s allowed to fuck you like this, the pain melting away to a dull pleasure, different from earlier. his gaze is still white hot and searing, devouring every inch of your body. “you really are so beautiful, sweet okusan. my kibōchi turned perfect cocksleeve, yeah?” he growls into the space between you, his fingers digging into the fat of your skin so hard you know he’ll leave his mark.

that draws a moan out of you, loving the idea of being nothing more than a wife, his partner, something you never thought you’d be once you parted ways. the feeling of him rocking into your body is addicting, and now you know you are capable of looking past anything he’s done or will do just to love him anyway. you would throw all your morals away just for this, and he knows that too. “my pretty little okusan, trying so hard to pretend she didn’t want me. now look, the prettiest you’ve ever been bouncing on me.”

he leans over your body, deepening his angle and allowing him to pick up his speed. he watches the way your tits bounce at this pace, your eyes rolling back a little as you’re rendered unable to speak again, only lewd smacks of his balls against your ass and his feral grunts to be heard. his hand finds your throat, and his mouth drops open in response to your sweet moans and impossible beauty. you are perfect. he knew you would be, but your pussy was his personal kryptonite. “you feel so good, anata girl. you look even better, stuffed to the brim.”

he smiles at the double meaning. you are his darling girl, but you are also his exasperating brat. god, he always knew what to say. your jaw falls, gripping his forearms to warn him that you were close. “please—need to cum!”

he hums, nodding his approval, “then cum, okusan.” he commands, deep voice booming. his spine tingles at the idea of you taking your first round of his seed. his hair falls so angelically around his angular features when you open your eyes, it’s the final push over the edge. you choke out a moan, and then your nails are scraping at his biceps, his shoulders and chest, whatever you can get your hands on, and your release is rushing over his dick seconds later.

“are you on birth control?” he groans, feeling his cock twitch in between your wet walls. you shake your head, chest heaving deliciously. “good, let’s see how fertile you are.”

your eyes cross at his statement and his balls feel so heavy, squeezing tight and spurting out their contents against your womb. your head digs into the pillow and his falls back at the feeling of being so full and warm. he keeps his hips rocking, making you gasp with every stroke as he shoves his deposit deeper. You’re both panting when you look at each other, years of unspoken yearning and love being communicated between you. there’s a lot to catch up on, and a lot to relearn about one another, but one thing is certain: this marriage was fated, and not arranged.

#kyleewritesjjk #kylee's kinktober event #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #geto suguru x reader #jjk x reader #geto suguru #jjk geto #geto x reader #geto smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #geto suguru smut #geto x you

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merelygifted · 4 months

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Move comes days after Colorado supreme court removes Trump from state primary ballot for same reason

#Maine #WELL DONE!!!#SEDITION #SUBVERSION #domestic terrorism #ESPIONAGE #crime #EVIL #conspiracy idiots #election interference #magats #conservative politics #reach complete enlightenment #rethuglicants #WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK RETHUGLICANTS?!

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tadpolesonalgae · 7 months

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Can’t Bring Myself To Hate You - Part 7

A/N: Right, this might get a little confusing, but you know how we (English speakers) kind of went from Latin, to old English, to Now English? I’m substituting those for the Old Language, ‘Middle Language’ (the transitional phase—completely made up), and whatever the common tongue is for Prythian? Yeah, sorry about that!

Warnings: none…? I don’t think…?

Word Count: 5,587

-Part 6- -🌌🌠- -Part 8-

You stare at the page, heart in your throat.

Stare at the page, and reach for a pen.

Who is this?

Ink stains the white paper, and stupidity heats your features. He probably left it as a taunt. It’s not like he’s going to respond. You groan, setting the pen down, covering your face with your hands. Mother above. Definitely not your smartest moment. Reach to flip the paper over—not wanting to be reminded of your naïveté.

More ink has appeared, just below your scribbled question.

You may hide your intelligence around your family, but that won’t work with me. Smarten up.

The words burn your features. Scowl at the paper.

Forgive me for not anticipating the paper to talk back, Eris.

It vanishes the second you’ve written the sentence, leaving you blinking at the empty space on your desk. Winnowing isn’t possible within the House of Wind—you’ve heard both Rhysand and Feyre say it before. Yet note passing seems completely acceptable, for some reason. You suppose no harm can derive from simple exchanges.

You’ve been surrounded by magic for nearly two years. It’s shameful to still be taken aback by its multi-faceted ways.

A reluctant smile gilds your mouth. That’s Eris alright. Readjust your hold on the pen.

And it’s embarrassing to rely on stupidly long words in attempt to prove your intellect. Just say it’s versatile.

The parchment disappears, then returns. Nothing’s been added.

Amusement brightens your mouth, raising the writing instrument, poising it to attack. The words dance on your tongue, weapons to provocation: You have a bad attitude to being spoken back to. But you shake your head, instead choosing compromise for your next reply.

Did you want something? I doubt you simply dropped in to say hi. Unless this is your way of making sure I got the book?

Perhaps it was my way of seeing where you fall in this alliance.

Brow draws together. He obviously means the alliance between the Night Court and him, but where do you fit into it all? How does this show your placement? What does he even mean, where you fall? Take a deep breath, release it. It will do you no good to fall for his own provocation.

I hope you were satisfying enlightened, then, you write back.

Quite.

Stare at the neatly scripted response. He’s leaving the conversation for you to direct. First thoughts go to where he acquired the book, but somehow you feel that’s not the direction he wants you to take this in. So, sighing, you stumble straight into the trap he’s laid out.

Why haven’t you told anyone?

Paper vanishes again. Takes a minute to reappear.

It’s pretty blackmailing material. Why waste it in common conversation?

Lips purse together as you read his reply. Manipulative indeed.

Whatever you think you’ll be able to extort from me, I can guarantee you’ll end up disappointed.

Not the family favourite?

Blink at the speed of the response. Like quicksilver. Vague amusement warms your chest—how clear the mockery is. Disconcertingly comforting to know he doesn’t change. The same in every form. Precious constancy. Lower the pen to parchment.

I suppose you would know all about that, wouldn’t you?

And I suppose you’ll hide beneath the guise of observation, now?

It certainly isn’t warfare. I’d think you’d be practiced at spotting pretty, bladed words.

Again, the parchment vanishes, leaving you in the silence of your own room. Feet tap anxiously upon the clear wood, leg vibrating as you wait on him. Realisation smacks you upside your jaw—you refuse to sit here wasting precious seconds for whatever nihilistic response he carves out for you. Instead, you turn to the anthology, flicking to the index, peering at titles. Searching for one that will catch your eye.

I’m flattered—you’ve sharpened your tongue since we last sparred.

Roll your eyes. Lips quirking at the inherent Eris-ness of the response.

Wooden swords will only serve me for so long. Why not experiment with steel in a controlled environment?

The parchment vanishes, and takes its time to reappear. Time you spend scanning titles, pondering their contents. Maybe you should ask why he gave it to you in the first place. Certainly not out of the kindness of his heart.

Paper reappears.

You think merely because there are entire courts between us that makes you safe?

Peer at his reply—try studying it. Does he want you to be wary of him? It seems unlikely, somehow. He wouldn’t be able to get anything from you if you’re afraid of him. He should be encouraging you to feel at ease speaking with him if he wants something.

Do you make a habit of being as unpleasant as possible to every person you encounter, or am I just lucky?

A smile warms your mouth as the paper vanishes, fantasising how irritated he might become. From your words! Exhilarating!

Eyes land on a title that piques your interest: Movement of Light. Brow narrows with interest, flipping to the registered page number eagerly. Upon the parchment, beside the tightly knitted words, lays a neat diagram. It appears to be of a rectangle with two small holes punctured through its thin mass. Interesting…

Do you make a habit of keeping secrets from your family?

Lips purse. Cutting to the core, again. Manipulative as he may be, he’s certainly skilled at finding the right bruises to target. You wonder if it’s a skill he’d been taught through books or word of mouth, or if, perhaps, it was a nastier kind of education. Shake your head free of thoughts, pulling away from the book.

Having no secrets at all is stupidly idilic. Are there any other misconceptions you would like me to clear up?

You’re surprisingly cynical for your age.

Strange how having one’s mortality ripped away will do that to a woman.

Even you can hear the bitterness bleeding through. But the words have been written, and the paper has disappeared, so there’s no use trying to take them back. Even if you’re mentally cursing yourself for allowing that kind of opening. Surprised at how easy it is to be caught up in conversation with him. Or sparring, as he so eloquently puts it.

Wonderful immortality not treating you well?

Again, with the taunting. Amusement and something else prickles beneath your fingertips. Irked.

I’ll admit, it’s not quite as spectacular as I might’ve thought once upon a time.

That seems measured enough.

I thought humans were raised to hate us.

Observe the words—how they sit on the parchment. The contrast between your short scribbles and his elegant font.

Might a deer not wish for a wolf’s strength?

Parchment again vanishes. Once you’ve counted to three, you turn your attention back to the book, scanning the passage of writing. Brows narrow at the leap in language—words you’re unfamiliar with. A photon? Maybe it would be better to start from the beginning. Where’s a damn glossary when you need one?

Paper reappears—you take a moment to pull away from the volume.

Have you always been in pursuit of grandeur?

Brow narrows at the question.

I’d say I’ve always been rather passionate about not starving. So I suppose I did once think having three hot meals a day would be utter luxury.

I would have rather rotted away than be forced to live amongst vermin.

A surprised laugh flutters from your chest, amusement sparking within you again.

You’re much too stubborn for such a miserable end, Eris; too bitter to resign yourself to such a fate, either.

Parchment vanishes. One. Two. Three. Return to the volume, start at the beginning. Where your eyes were intended to land. Sighing, you scan the title: The Foundations of our World—Stuff. Brow narrows, lips quirking upward at the vagueness of it. Stuff. Such a lack of precise articulation, yet here it is, in an anthology of noteworthy discoveries. Somehow, this piece had been selected as important; important enough to be the base for the entire book. Strange…

Eye roll across the tightly stacked letters, mind pulsing as words soak into your brain, thumping dully as blood rushes through your ears. Take everything at it’s basest nature, reduce it down to the fundamentals, and what sort of building blocks are you left with? What makes up the world as we see it?

‘Take the prefix a- from the middle language, and combine it with the Old Language verb to cut, creating the name for the indivisible: atom. The smallest bits of matter that can exist independently.’

Intrigue returns with crushing force, making it near impossible to tear your eyes from the volume when the parchment reappears. How long has he been writing? Maybe he was preoccupied.

And yet I understand it was the youngest of you who took up her weapons and headed out into the wild. For how adamantly you protested against my lack of action regarding something I could easily correct, you seem to appear quite the hypocrite. Why didn’t you go out into those woods?

Blink away the memories of frost. Of sweat-stained clothes, and matted, knotted hair.

Getting a little personal with the questions, don’t you think?

Writing to me at all is much more personal than you should ever be getting—I’m sure your friends would agree. Yet there you are, pen in hand, thinking up your next counterattack.

The reply comes with surprising swiftness, allowing you only a brief glimpse of the following passage. Just as you’re beginning to grasp the core of what the essay is talking on.

You write with the confidence sight, you reply, eager to return. Yet he seems to have put his own distractions aside, as the response follows promptly.

Magic is a wonderful thing.

Blood ices in your veins, limbs stiffening, tongue turning leaden.

You’re lying. The House is fortified with wards; practically impregnable.

Yet here we are, corresponding. Does your High Lord know what you get up to behind closed doors?

Heart spikes in your chest, fingers trembling just a little as you lower pen to paper.

You clearly want something; you’re not going to get it if you spook me away, so quit the games.

Very well, but I’ll admit I indulged in the thought of your discomfort.

Release a heavy sigh—he doesn’t somehow have a window into your room, able to watch every move you make. Surely that would be too far, even for his manipulative ways. Skin prickles at how easily he slid beneath it—fingertips brighten.

You share that delightful, sharp-written humour with your youngest brother, you know that?

The parchment vanishes, then reappears in a matter of seconds. You laugh to yourself.

Touchy subject, Eris?

The second you dot the question mark, the door swings open; you yelp, jumping in your chair, shoving the parchment away. Vanishes again a blink later, slightly crumpled from the violent rejection.

“I knocked…” Feyre supplies, features tightening with concern. “Did you not… Oh.” She blinks, peering at the door frame; the threshold. “I suppose it must have been set up to block out exterior noise, too.” Sighs. “I’ll get that fixed at some point. Seems a waste to have a sound barrier up if you’re unable to hear what’s going on outside.”

Swallow heavily, trying to look normal. Like you weren’t knowingly communicating with the heir to the Autumn Court throne. Blue-grey settles upon you, fingers fidgeting in your lap, shifting in your seat to get comfortable. Everything feels unsettled. Her brows arrow, “you’re… What were you doing?”

“Nothing.” You reply, quickly. Far too quickly to be normal.

Lips quirk. “Writing to Bas?” She teases.

Heavy sigh whooshes from your chest, deflating a little. “How do you know about him? I haven’t even mentioned him to ‘Lain,” you say lightly. Something flashes through her eyes, too quickly for you to decipher. “Az mentioned you had someone after you,” she laughs, stepping into the room, door closing behind her. “I had no idea it was so serious,” she smiles, the happiness so inappropriate with the context you have.

Shake your head in denial, “he’s just a friend. There’s nothing else going on.” She gives you a look to say she doesn’t believe you. “I’m serious,” you insist. “There’s nothing romantic going on.” That part’s true, at least.

Feyre laughs again, then shifts on her feet. A strange quest seems to overtake her. “You know things are different here,” she begins softly, “to how we lived as humans.”

Heat flushes your features, making you groan. “Oh my gods, Fey. I am not having this conversation with you.”

“I’m just saying, if you want to get out there…see the world…maybe a few males, too… That’s fine. That’s stuff we can do, now. Well, you can do.” She amends the last part. After all, she’s the youngest, and already has a mate, a husband, and a child. An entire family. The epitome of womanhood.

Shake your head adamantly, “please, stop.” You grimace. Her lips quirk, mischief in here blue-grey eyes. She’s so lively…spirited. Bubbly? But calm, too. When did she become so adult? She seems to have aged in the blink of an eye.

(Why didn’t you go out into those woods?)

She shifts again, peers around the room—it’s a superficial move. She’s buying time, building up to something. “Your floor’s clear,” she notes, nodding to the clear wooden boards. Nod in response, trying not to wring your fingers. You were doing nothing wrong. He had spoken first. Nothing to be guilty about; no one got hurt. It’s fine.

“About our last interaction…” she begins, quietly. Spine stiffens, heart spikes. “I wasn’t trying to find something wrong with you; I’m sorry it came out that way.”

Exhale softly, shoulders lose their tension. Smile easily, waving her off. “Oh, don’t worry about it,” you laugh. “I understand. I’m sorry for lashing out at you, it was unfair on my part to act that way.” Her eyes narrow on you. Keep up the smile. “Is this your way of saying you just don’t want to talk about it?” She asks, softly. Blue-grey shimmers with sincerity.

Lips begin to ache with the stretch. “What are you talking about? We’ve made peace, there’s no need to exacerbate this.”

“Do you not want to talk about it?” She reiterates, keeping calm and quiet.

“What is it?” You laugh, turning to face the desk, eyes flitting to the volume. Scan the page; absorb nothing. “What you said last time. About being a burden.”

Body stiffens, breath catches.

“Fey, I’m getting tired,” you excuse, voice steady.

“You’re tired a lot,” she replies, quietly. Still watching. “Maybe Madja should take a look at you.” Sigh. Lean back in your chair. Tilt your face back, peering at the ceiling. “I’ve had a long life,” you murmur up to the white wallpaper, “I’m allowed to be tired.”

“You’re barely twenty-two.”

“And a lot has happened. I’m allowed to be tired.” You repeat, not looking at her.

Silence stretches between you. Gentle, but taut.

“How about you?” You ask, shifting the conversation over. Turning to peer at her. Your younger sister. Feyre blinks, then nods her head. “Good. Wonderful.” Watch her silently. Mark the lowness of her lids. “Nyx still waking you up?”

Nods again, smiling faintly, traveling somewhere distant. Somewhere foreign to you. “Eight days a week,” she laughs quietly. “Rhys and I are taking turns looking after him during the nights. Despite his work-load.” Sighs, pushes hair from her cheek, tucks it over a pointed ear. “He’s been great. Supportive, attentive, perfect. I keep trying to get him to let me handle Nyx, but he’s insisting it’s a joint effort. Wants to be there in a way his father…” she trails off, eyes misting.

Nod your head slowly. “And I suppose you want to be there in a way our mother…?”

“Yeah,” she replies thickly. “I guess that’s part of it.” The quiet turns viscous, coagulating into something almost translucent.

“I read some things…” you begin gently, “about the turbulence of motherhood.”

Her features lift into a smile, “oh, don’t worry about me. Rhys and I are working through it. It’s difficult, but everyone’s there when the strain starts to set in.” You blink away subtle surprise. “Mor’s always up for taking him off our hands for a day or two. It’s the same with Cass and Nesta,” she laughs fondly. “Amren…well, she’s Amren. And Elain’s great at making little treats here and there. Smiley faces out of his breakfast and things like that—he loves it.”

You nod slowly. Blink. “That’s great.” Again the silence creeps in.

Then she’s shifting on her feet, and. You just know—

“What kind of person is Bas?” She inquiries, not at all subtly. Nosey.

“He’s my friend, and nothing else.” He’s much more than a friend, but there’s no way to explain that without an entire Court’s worth of misunderstandings and uncomfortable questions. Still, she nods, but remains in your room. “And he… His intentions?”

“Feyre,” you scold, incredulously.

Your younger sister doesn’t flinch. Keeps her gaze straight. “Okay. Okay,” she sighs, holding up her hands in defence. “I’m wary of him.”

“Please, you can trust me he’s harmless. To me, at least. I’m sure if someone swung at him he’d be the type to swing back, but that’s besides the point.” You leave out the part that you’re fairly certain he would be the one to also somehow provoke a fight. He can be pretty provocative when he wants to. Not always in a bad way…

(…a hot, male body that’s pressing you into the wall.)

“I just want you to be careful,” she says quietly, eyes misting, going somewhere far away. “Males…people can be unkind. I don’t want anything to happen to you.” Amarantha, Tamlin… You nod your head, “I understand. But Bas…I can trust him. So please don’t doubt him; please don’t doubt me either, in this decision.”

Feyre nods again. Silence stretches, then she straightens. Pats the doorframe. “Well, I’ll have this fixed as soon as possible. It’ll need to be disabled, than I can remake it—so you’ll be able to hear people coming. It’d be awful if you got yourself hurt from being startled by one of us.” She gives you a sweet smile, then disappears out into the hall, door clicking shut behind her.

Unsure if it’s her silent feet or the sound barrier that prevents you from hearing her disappearing footfalls.

————

Skin is itching, fingers burning. Heart spiking.

Burning, burning, burning. Hands on fire.

Vision blurs, floor spinning. She’s on the ceiling.

Crash into a wall, bone crunching. Stumble to the kitchen.

Water. Where’s water. Burning skin. Charring fingertips.

Liquid drips down cheeks, splashing onto knuckles.

Scraped raw, searing pain. Bone splintering, nails peeling.

Cool water fills the sink, drown her hands.

Sweet strangulation, dulcet deprivation.

Lovely oblivion.

————

Breath eases in and out, soothing your lungs. In and out. Slow and steady. In. And out.

Chest deflates, keeping your body straight but relaxed—imagine sinking into the mattress. Cheeks puff up with the exhale, calm and quiet. Sit silently. Allow the world to fade. Tension seeps from your shoulders, muscles relaxing the way you’ve practiced. Now to make sure you don’t drop off instead.

Empty out thoughts, settle into the silence. Float away on a breeze. Imagine hands being set aglow. No. They are aglow.

Eyes remain shut, tight. Picture the radiant green seeping onto your skin, setting it alight.

Fingers twitch, bones itch. Teeth grind. Nails heat.

Eyes open in time to catch the glow as it fades, sinking back into your skin. A flicker of Starfall, then nothing. Sigh heavily, back slumping, shoulders sloping. It’s something; most importantly, it’s progress. Day three of fourteen. Slow movements, slower response. Gently stoking the flames.

Remove the light from your world, lids closing, return to the darkness. Seeking solace. Breath eases in and out, soothing your lungs. In and out. Slow and steady. In. And out. In. And out. Fingertips warm, but eyes remain closed. Don’t acknowledge it. Can’t look or feel for it. Allow it to grow in the back of your mind, allow into latch into your blood; flourish. Swirling and billowing, gaining momentum until it can move on its own, until it can function without nurture.

Keep your back turned to the power, allow it to remain unseen. Pull it upward; hear as it cracks and fizzles in your head. Rapidly dividing…splitting at high-speed…multiplying until it boils and bubbles. One cleaves another in two…into three…nine…

(…Twenty-seven, eighty-one, two-hundred forty-three…)

(…two-thousand one-hundred eighty-seven, six-thousand five-hundred sixty-one, nineteen-thousand six-hundred eighty-three…)

(One-million seven-hundred-seventy-one-thousand one-hundred forty-seven.)

Heat burns your fingertips, flashing pain blaring so rapidly, sparking like lightening across your palms, splintering phalanges…down into the carpal bones, nearing your wrists.

Vision blasts into view, pupils contract to tiny dots, shrinking away from the pale green light that’s blazing from your hands, barreling up your forearms, crackling past elbows, bolting up, up, up… Muscles seize, contracting against the hot itch scrambling your flesh, twisting at sinew. The blinding light dims, eyes peeking open as it dulls to a quiet luminosity, tinting your skin. Feels like poison ivy…the nettles by your old estate.

Swallow, staring at the radiance. Almost mesmerising enough to block out the burn. Throat itches, tongue sticking to the roof of your mouth. Deep breaths. Ease in. And out. Deep and easy. Calm and quiet. Collected.

Slowly, warily, you rise from your bed, door swinging open on the house’s command. Silently pad down the hallway, arms and torso concealed well by your dress, cardigan hiding the faint incandescence of your wrists. Hands—no way to hide them. Ignore it for now, you need a drink. Deep and easy. In. And out. Calm. Quiet and collected.

A glass waits for you on the table, walk steadily forward, fingers tremble as they clutch the cup. Water vibrates inside, tiny ripples fluttering across the surface. Effervescent bubbles shimmer at the base. Grow larger, swelling into compact air, fizzing up. Simmering in your hands. Tension coils your shoulders, brow dampening. Liquid heats up, boiling into a volatile mess. Bubbles pop at the surface, scalding water splashing onto your knuckles.

Scream as glass shatters, burning your bare feet as the liquid sprays.

Heart spikes, glowing brighter, inching up your arms, over your shoulders. Crawling across your collar bones. Muscles knot, tangling over themselves as they seize in terror. Power coils closer, snaking toward your throat, slowly…slowly…

“What—”

Hazel pierces into you, flicking over your hands, marking the shards of glass. He appeared in a flurry of darkness, shadows pulling back once he’s materialised in the doorway. Eyes already scanning for the source of distress. Fix on the slow spread of toxic green as it tip-toes higher. Hits a barrier. It’s a small hesitation—but it’s enough. Magic flickers, recoiling from your clavicle, enough hesitation to be quashed. Like a weight sinking down, an avalanche of rock crushing vermin, bones crunching beneath the pressure. Incandescence shoved away, dripping down your arms, cut back to your fingertips.

Sweet relief washes over you, waves of coolness cresting from your forehead to your toes. Lovely reprieve. Exhale heavily, spine nearly collapsing beneath the strain, leaving a slight glimmer to your fingertips, nails curved and warped from heat. Stagger back as he silently moves toward you. Scarred hands reach out, wanting to touch; wanting to steady.

“Are you—”

“Don’t,” you bark, snapping your arms closer to your body. Feel their unnatural heat as it singes the fabric of your dress. His nostrils flare, scenting the charred material, shadows flicker.

Call breath into your lungs, soothing. Deep and easy. In and out. Calm and quiet. In. And out. Calm and collected. A familiar scent has hairs raising at the back of your neck, eyes flicking up to lock with hazel. Closer than before. Despite the heat.

“What was that?” He asks, the deep roughness of his voice curling across your breastbone, soothing the heated skin like a balm. Swallow heavily, keeping your hands tight to your torso. Turn away; move to the sink. The tap turns on independently, cool water sizzling as it washes over trembling hands. Cold metal mollifies your skin, a comfy weight around your neck. The tiny barrier your magic had hit. Tripped up on.

Azriel doesn’t make a sound, but you can feel him nearby, standing at your side. Watching silently as the water fizzles and hisses, the last of the glow dimming from your fingertips. How close he’d come to touching the blisteringly hot skin. Slowly, the cold begins to souse into your digits, running smoothly over your hands, no longer bubbling or evaporating on impact.

The house has already cleared away the shards of glass; dried the pool of scalding water by the time you’ve dried your hands. Flaky, and ashen. The smooth, creamy texture seemingly been ravished by the heat. Yet all you felt was a slight itch to begin with. You don’t make any attempts to conceal how quickly you want to escape the room, but you’re kept where you are. Waiting…waiting for him to change his mind about keeping your secret. After what he’s just seen…

Feet are pinned to the boards, muscles unwilling to obey your mind as you explore them to turn and leave. Arms feel leaden, stiff and immovable. Wait for the compromise to be retracted. Hands tremble, teeth faintly bite onto your tongue. Wait for the condemnation. For being so foolish; stubborn.

“Are you hurt?” Words thud dully against your ears, keeping your hands as out of sight as possible, hidden beneath the sleeves of your cardigan. Nod dutifully. “I’m okay,” you murmur. Lips are numb, mind buzzing faintly. Floorboards spin ever so slightly, blurring in and out of focus. Deep breaths. In and out. Slow and steady. In. And out. Calm and collected. In. And. Out.

Boots appear at the top of your sight, just a little way from your own. Far enough not to be intimate. He holds out a scarred hand, palm facing upward. Almost expectant.

Blink away the dizziness. Flesh tingling…wriggling beneath your skin. Nails itching.

Wait silently to see what he’ll do.

Continues holding out his hand, waiting patiently to see if you’ll offer up your own. Remain rooted to the spot, numbness crawling beneath your sleeves. Mind buzzing with confusion at the outstretched palm.

Slowly, he begins reaching for your wrist, as if to inspect the results of the experiment. Analyse the consequence. Examine.

It topples you into motion.

Turn on your feet; quietly scamper off down the corridor. Behind the safety on your door.

With the wooden barrier in place, plus the sound block on your room, you can truly feel forgotten for a while. Like time’s stopped.

————

The shower had your blood moving again, temperature cooling to a regular heat. Mind working again, mentally cataloguing every thought you had, every twinge of unusualness that could have been the signposting you should have noticed to prevent that rapid surge of…burning.

Peer down at your hands, almost absently. Aside from the slight roughness to your skin; the chapped dryness to your knuckles, there’s nothing to show for the bone deep itch that had manifested within your flesh. Just the texture becoming sandpapery. Flaky.

A dark blue towel is draped over your shoulders like a shawl, preventing the damp ends of your hair from saturating the changed dress.

(What was that?)

It stopped almost out of nowhere. One moment, steadily spreading throughout your body, the next, it seemed to stumble. Like hitting a bump of some kind. Something that disturbed its momentum. Peer down at the necklace that’s sitting comfortably around your throat, resting just above your collar bones. In the dip of their joining point.

The small, glass pendant hanging from the bronze chain sits innocently on your person. Fingers brush over the map in wonder, curiously feeling. Cool metal contains the accessory, lead encapsulated within a gleaming polish. Even the underside has a pretty finish. Lead, bronze, and glass. Maybe some ink, but that’s all it is. No secrets carved to its base, no hidden compartment. Just a simple ornament, yet something about it disagreed with you. Thank the Mother.

Fingers play with the charm as you take a seat at your desk, reopening the volume. Rusty red leather creaks as you turn to your page, more than willing to submerge yourself in learning. The candles flicker as you ease out a breath, taking in the familiar scent of parchment and something pleasantly spiced. Maybe it’s an Autumn Court scent.

Crumpled paper lands on your desk, settling comfortably between the two large pages of the anthology.

It may surprise you to learn I have better things to do than spend all my hours writing to you.

Stare at the neat, elegant script. Debate the merits of responding willingly. Returning to this strange sparring match would be acknowledging your interest. There’d be no way to talk your way back to innocence. Putting pen to paper will mean…

And yet here you are, Vanserra, writing back to me.

Oh, you hope that irritates him. Hope he sends back something vicious. Something to make you spark awake again. To light up the numbness that’s turning your world monotone.

Would you like to tell me where these wrinkles came from?

Lips tug at the edges, but remain set in a dull line. Lower your pen to the roughed-up parchment. Fingers dry and somewhat cracked in the low light.

Nonsense, Eris. You don’t look a day over thirty.

Picture the way his sharp caramel eyes blaze with ire at the brazenness. Maybe his palms also heat when he’s in a mood. It’s a little comforting to remember power probably didn’t come naturally to him. Maybe. You’re making assumptions, though.

And you don’t dress a day over fifty. Considering Rhys’ wealth is at your fingertips, you have the fashion sense of someone who’s still destitute.

Mouth parts as you read the response. Brows flicking up your forehead. Harsh…

A smile quirks the corners of your lips.

I’ll have you know I dress for comfort. You’re the one who cares so much about prettification. Maybe I could visit your personal beauty parlour sometime, Eris?

Parchment vanishes, allowing you time to peer down at the diagram before you: a small rectangular table. There are various squares left blank, while others are filled in with one or two letters. The boxes that do contain letters attached are numbered, correlating with asterisks further down the page, displaying a full title.

Who would ever accompany you? It’s bad etiquette to visit a tonsorium on one’s own.

The smile fades after a few moments. Who would go with you if you wanted to visit somewhere? Elain? Feyre? …Mor? Shake your head, pushing away the dismal thoughts he’s brought to your attention. Divert elsewhere.

It’s worst to not entertain your guests. What a miserable (and sour) host you would be. I think I’m actually quite glad to not be visiting anytime soon.

Try to return to the anthology; find yourself awaiting his reply. Leg tapping against the floorboards. Minutes pass while you attempt to absorb more of the text, but nothing’s sticking. Like there’s a fog passing through your brain, stopping you from taking in the wonder of the world. More minutes tick by—the sky a solid dark blue the other side of your window. A few other candles gleam alight, and you murmur your thanks to the House. Flame flickers in response. Oddly comforting.

Eyelids start to feel heavy, weighing into your vision.

You don’t realise you nodded off until you wake from your nap. The desk is still void of a reply; you wearily peer around your room, attempting to orient yourself. Knuckles itch to be scratched, still rough to the touch. Gaze settles on your door. Perhaps it’s a little scary that you wouldn’t know if something was lurking directly the other side. Wouldn’t be able to hear any heavy breathing, or the scrape of steel. Deep breath, because there’s nothing there.

Stand to draw the curtains, but hairs stand on end. Remain still for a few seconds, centring on the feeling. Is it fear? Is it loneliness? Brow knits in concentration, absently drawing the curtains, turning back to face the entrance to your room.

(The only exit.)

Sigh in frustration. It’s not good to give into your…however you’re feeling. It will only encourage your mind to exacerbate whatever problem its fabricated. Still, you find yourself opening the door, peering down the well-lit corridor. Nothing there, no strange feeling, no lurking presences. Just your mind finding something to react to, creating a madness to subject you to. Deep breaths. The House of Wind is secure. Safe, and secure. You’re safe here. Nothing bad will happen; you won’t get hurt.

Deep breaths, heart lowering its pace.

Move to bring the door to; notice something on the ground, beside the frame.

Crouch down to pick up the small tin. Bring it inside, door swinging shut as you hold it up to the light.

Peer at the neat label. Pop open the lid; look inside.

It’s a small pot of hand cream.

General Taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @amygdtjhddzvb @sfhsgrad-blog @needylilgal022

Az Taglist: @azrielshadows1nger @jurdanpotter @positivewitch

CBMTHY Taglist: @impossibelle @naturakaashi @sakurafrost3-blog @ficienjoyedrbspot @azriels-shadowsinger @marina468 @misstea12 @going-through-shit @fussel9913 @minakay @i-am-infinite @wannabewolf @thegirlintheshadows101 @kennedy-brooke @esposadomd @horneybeach1 @jeannineee @harrystylesfan2686 @tothestarsandwhateverend @abysshaven @starlight-hope @stupidwingboy @nastynesta @luvmoo @furiousbooklover @kuraikei @kemillyfreitas @chasing-autumns-chill @marvelpotter @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @imma-too-many-fandoms

#CBMTHY #CBMTHY Part 7 #Azriel #Azriel x reader #Eris #Eris Vanserra #Azriel shadowsinger #Shadowsinger #Azriel angst #Azriel x reader angst #multi-part fic #Can’t Bring Myself To Hate You

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hunn1e-bunn1e · 7 months

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Malleus Draconia - Cyno (Male) Reader

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

I chose to do only Malleus since I didn't want to spend three hours typing again. I made this into a split between Headcannons and a oneshot since I couldn't decide which one I wanted to do. There was also not alot to go off of to make the headcannons, so I just added more of my own context to it. I hope this is adequate to what you asked for, I did my best! — Benny 🐰

🌙•♡•🌙•♡•🌙•♡•🌙•♡•🌙•♡•🌙•♡•🌙•♡•🌙

🐲 When he first met you, Malleus immediately noticed your off putting and downright ominous aura. He himself wasn't affected, of course, but he did notice that almost everyone else was. He sympathized with you, as he causes the same reaction in people that you do. That fact that you understand his everyday struggle certainly made it easy for the two of you, and by extention Lilia, to become close.

🐲 Malleus also noticed how you didn't really seem to be too affected by the fact that the majority of the student body feared you. In fact, you told him that you completely understood that you were scary and that you needed to be due to your role as the Mahamatra. Your status and experience as a warrior has given you a fearsome aura and you use that aura to instill order in your subordinates when the time comes. ...Malleus still has yet to ask you what a Mahamatra is exactly.

🐲 He had once asked you why you cary a staff,, which you later explained to be a polearm from your country of origin, Sumeru. Seeing you wield your spear with such ferocity and accuracy was quite the enlightening experience for Malleus. He was really only ever used to seeing Lilia, Silver and Sebek train with their swords and their magic. Secretly he wanted to ask if you would teach him how to use a polearm, but he doesn't know how to approach the question.

🐲 Something that Malleus didn't expect, however, was the 'dad jokes' as you and Lilia had called them. His father figure and you really seemed to bond over that, actually. You used it to ease the fears and tensions that derived from your overall appearance and demeanour. The dragon fae wondered why he never thought of doing that himself but.... well.....

——————————

"Hey. You four."

The magicless student from another world towered ominously above a group of students who had been whispering about his fearsome appearance; a shadow cast over his eyes as he spoke lowly.

The previously gossiping students tremble in fear as he stood before them, unable to muster up any words or thoughts. Across the cafeteria sat a certain dragon fae; his keen ears picking up on their conversation. His shoulders slumped when he heard them speaking him as though he were some sort of monster; yet he couldn't ever bring himself to try and make friends with those people as he was sure that they would run away. Malleus shakes his head to break from his thoughts as he tuned back in.

"—ou call a well balanced horse.....?"

The intimidating foreign boy asks the students in a cold tone and waited a few moments in silence,

"Stable....... pfffft— Hehehehehehehe, get it, 'Stable'? 'Cause horses live in stables?"

Everyone in the cafeteria who had heard his joke collectively sweat dropped, including Malleus. The poor fae prince was equally appalled and amazed; his eyes couldn't help but wander to the bat fae seated to his right. That joke...... was awful; he almost felt his entire body scrunch in on itself as he cringed; trying to hide it with a blank face.

"A good idea... I suppose... but such poor execution."

Malleus muttered quietly to himself, a cartoonish sweat drop falling down his temple at a comically slow pace.

The previously scared group of students only stared at the magicless boy in confusion and disbelief; not knowing what to do. Where did that come from? [Name], receiving no response, only cleared his throat before reaching into his back pocket and taking out a small notebook. He flips a few pages before stopping on one and giving a firm nod.

"Ahem— What's red and bad for your teeth?.... A brick. Hehehe, get it?"

The magicless male chuckled with a boyish grin as he cracked yet another very bad joke.

Malleus only stared at the boy, a slightly strained smile on his face, stuck between whether to view him with respect for disapating the fear that he conjured by his mere presence or with disappointment at the awful jokes that he surmised you got from his father figure.

——————————

🌙•♡•🌙•♡•🌙•♡•🌙•♡•🌙•♡•🌙•♡•🌙•♡•🌙

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

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icyminghao · 10 months

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(pretty) hungry

pairing: minghao x gn!reader genre: fluff, drabble, established relationship word count: 0.6k warning(s): mentions of food

summary: minghao attempts to flirt with you in chinese, but ends up getting extremely shy when you confront him to translate whatever he said for you.

from the universe of i don’t understand (but i love you) and you nailed it! but can be read as a standalone. inspired by jem carstairs from the infernal devices by cassandra clare!

“Baobei*, ni hao piao liang**,” Minghao randomly pipes up, breaking the silence that loomed over the both of you in your weekly reading session.

You look up from your book, ears perking up at the sound of Minghao speaking in his native tongue. “What does that mean?”

There’s a pause. Minghao seems taken aback. You quirk a curious brow at him.

“It means I’m hungry. Let’s go get some food,” Minghao places the book he was reading down on the coffee table before getting up and walking towards you.

You would have believed his translation, if not for the fact that his ears were tinged with the deepest shade of red you’ve ever seen.

Minghao extends his hands for you to grab onto to get up, and you withhold a giggle at how hard he’s trying to hide the blush slowly creeping up his cheeks. You willingly grab onto his hands and lift yourself up, a teasing smile appearing on your endeared expression.

“It means ‘I’m hungry’? I could use it on Junhui the next time we meet, show him how good of a teacher you are,” you smile, eyes focused on his reaction. “Baobei, ni hao piao liang.”

“You can’t tell Junhui that.” Minghao replies immediately. You don’t know how it’s possible, but Minghao only gets redder as he practically squirms under your gaze, looking down at his feet to avoid your eyes. You simply grin wider at how cute he’s being, all because of a few simple words from his native language that he’s refusing to translate for you.

“Why not?” you feign innocence, lowering yourself a little so you could make eye contact with his lowered head. “It’s a pretty useful phrase, isn’t it?”

Minghao sighs, lifting his head up. His face is completely red now. “Well, yes, but it can only be used in specific contexts.”

“Specific contexts?” you raise a brow at Minghao, leaning closer to him. “Do enlighten me, Hao.”

“You can just Google it, y/n,” Minghao presses his lips into a thin line, obviously trying to avoid the topic, “what do you feel like eating?”

Unfortunately for him, you do not give in easily.

“But Hao,” you whine, removing your hands from his to shake his shoulders for dramatic effect, “why would I need to ask Google when I’ve got you?”

You stop shaking his shoulders after a while, moving to cup his face in your hands instead. “What does it really mean? I promise I won’t laugh.”

Minghao’s eyes widen. “How did you know it doesn’t mean ‘I’m hungry’?”

“That’s because you taught me that phrase before, silly. Your excuse sucked from the beginning,” you giggle, booping his nose with your finger before going back to rest your hand on his cheek.

Minghao sighs, reaching up to rest one hand over yours, resigning himself to his fate. “It means you’re really pretty, love.”

Now it was your turn to be flustered. Your hands on his cheek stiffened just a little bit, clearly not expecting the words that came out of Minghao’s mouth so easily. Your gaze fell on everything else but Minghao, and he chuckles in amusement.

“What’s wrong, Baobei?” Minghao teases, leaning closer towards you.

You lightly punch his chest in mock frustration. “You can’t just say stuff like that out of the blue!”

“Well, you were the one who pushed for me to tell you what it meant,” Minghao retorts playfully, smile growing impossibly wider. You huff, and Minghao reaches to take your hand in his.

“Okay, let’s finally go eat, hm?” Minghao smiles softly, turning to lead you towards the front door.

“Wait!” you call after Minghao, and he stops in his tracks before turning to you with a confused expression.

“Ni hao piao liang.”

Oh, if only you took a picture of his stunned, absolutely flustered expression to keep forever (and maybe use as blackmail). You guess you’d just have to keep the image in your memory.

*: Baobei (宝贝) — Chinese term of endearment for “baby” or “love”.

**: Ni hao piao liang (你好漂亮) — “you’re really beautiful/pretty”.

a/n: i love hao sm can u tell (also i may or may not have written this bc of that weibo live earlier omg minghao needs to stop like rn.)

taglist (send an ask to be added!): @slytherinshua @xomingyu @pepperonidk @belladaises @tastymintchocolate @dahliatopia

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sensualnoiree · 2 months

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astro notes: the moon & her phases 🌚

The Moon, with its soft, glowing presence in the night sky, has captivated human beings for millennia. Beyond its physical beauty, the Moon holds profound symbolic and esoteric meanings in various mystical traditions, particularly in alchemy. Dive into the alchemical and esoteric properties of the Moon, explore its significance as a symbol of inner transformation, spiritual enlightenment, and the depths of the human psyche.

Cycle of Transformation: The Moon's phases, from the dark New Moon to the full illumination of the Full Moon and back again, symbolize the cyclical nature of life, death, and rebirth. This mirrors the alchemical process of transformation, where base materials are purified and transmuted into a higher form.

🌑 New Moon: The New Moon marks the beginning of the lunar cycle, where the Moon is not visible in the sky. Symbolically, this phase represents the darkness before the dawn, the void from which all creation emerges. In alchemy, it corresponds to the initial stage of the alchemical process, known as Calcination. This is the stage where the base materials, representing the raw and unrefined aspects of the self, are broken down and purified through the fires of transformation.

🌘 Waxing Crescent: As the Moon begins to wax, or grow larger, after the New Moon, it enters the Waxing Crescent phase. This phase symbolizes growth, intention setting, and the planting of seeds. In the alchemical journey, this corresponds to the stage of Dissolution, where the purified elements begin to coalesce and take shape, laying the groundwork for further growth and development.

🌗 First Quarter: The First Quarter Moon marks the halfway point between the New Moon and the Full Moon. Symbolically, it represents a time of challenges, decisions, and action. In alchemy, this phase corresponds to the stage of Separation, where the purified elements are refined further, and the unnecessary or detrimental aspects are discarded. This is a crucial step in the process of transformation, where clarity and discernment are necessary to move forward.

🌖 Waxing Gibbous: As the Moon continues to wax, it enters the Waxing Gibbous phase, where it approaches full illumination. This phase symbolizes refinement, integration, and preparation for the culmination of the cycle. In alchemy, this corresponds to the stage of Conjunction, where the purified elements are brought together and integrated to form a harmonious whole. It is a time of synthesis and alignment, as the individual aspects of the self merge into a unified whole.

🌕 Full Moon: The Full Moon is the peak of the lunar cycle when the Moon is fully illuminated in the night sky. Symbolically, it represents illumination, fulfillment, and the realization of intentions. In alchemy, this corresponds to the stage of Fermentation, where the purified elements reach their peak potency and transformation is complete. It is a time of celebration and revelation, as the alchemist experiences a profound sense of union with the divine and the cosmos.

🌔 Waning Gibbous: After the Full Moon, the Moon begins to wane, or decrease in illumination, entering the Waning Gibbous phase. This phase symbolizes reflection, gratitude, and the release of what no longer serves. In alchemy, this corresponds to the stage of Distillation, where the essence of the transformed elements is extracted and purified further. It is a time of consolidation and integration, as the alchemist reflects on the lessons learned and prepares for the next phase of the journey.

🌓 Last Quarter: The Last Quarter Moon marks the halfway point between the Full Moon and the New Moon. Symbolically, it represents surrender, letting go, and clearing space for new beginnings. In alchemy, this phase corresponds to the stage of Coagulation, where the purified elements solidify and take on their final form. It is a time of resolution and closure, as the alchemist integrates the lessons of the journey and prepares to embark on a new cycle of transformation.

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ckret2 · 2 months

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Chapter 42 in human Bill Cipher's imprisonment in the Mystery Shack about to get a whole lot worse, featuring:

A history lesson on a second dimensional cult and its obnoxious child leader.

And Dipper making the mistake of asking Bill what "reality is an illusion" means.

And most importantly... The Eclipse: Prologue.

####

The source of light is a completely hypothetical phenomenon.

Just a couple of centuries ago, scientists postulated that perhaps light was a side-effect of magnetism generated by the poles of planets, and that someday the study of magnets might explain how light shifted over the course of a day.

But modern scientists theorized that light emanated from some force or object in a higher dimension, and that the unseen movements of this source-of-light explained how light ebbed and flowed around the perimeters of objects over the course of a day. Physics experiments backed up this hypothesis of a "third dimensional" origin of light.

Scientists adopted the term "sun" to describe this hypothetical light source. Experiments also suggested the third dimension might have a multitude of weaker light sources that provided much less illumination—perhaps spread across the third dimension like water droplets suspended in fog—which they dubbed "stars."

Roughly once a year, light (or rather, the "sun") was eclipsed. This was a very long time; a child born just after an eclipse might already be in school, have mastered measuring angles and reading, and begun learning multiplication and division by the time they saw their first eclipse. Some years were skipped, such that they wouldn't have an eclipse for two, three, sometimes even four or five years—it was possible to almost reach middle age without seeing an eclipse—with no discernible pattern to these gaps. Eclipses usually occurred around the new year—indeed, New Year's Day was fixed to the average date of the eclipse—but eclipse season ranged up to three months in either direction.

Experiments were being conducted to test ideas about the nature of eclipses—the two most prominent theories were that the sun naturally flickered off and on like a lamp, in a rolling pattern that accounted for how eclipses didn't affect the whole plain simultaneously but had been proven to move; or that the sun was obscured by some object in the third dimension, like a ball thrown in front of a lamp. There were solid arguments in favor of either theory, and thus far the data on hand couldn't disprove either.

But where science petered out, religion took up the baton.

A new religious movement called the Higher Dimensional Gate was picking up steam in the northwest. The cult (as some watchdog organizations called it) had been started a few years ago by a married couple—line and trapezoid—who gave largely inoffensive New Age-flavored sermons about spiritual purity and enlightenment. Their shows would have been unremarkable if not for their inclusion of their child—a charismatic young equilateral triangle they claimed had an "inner eye" that granted him clairvoyance. Every show, they put him on stage for a few minutes, where he'd point out audience members and offer seemingly-psychic insights into their lives. As he approached adolescence, he was given more and more stage time, which he'd use to recite the same sort of rhetoric as his parents while tossing in some novel claims about the third dimension that reflected the public's modern scientific fascinations.

It wasn't until the line's death that they evolved from a traveling psychic sideshow with a few zealous supporters into a burgeoning religious movement. The trapezoid adopted a background role as the precocious triangle took over all their speaking engagements, which he used to spin a novel mythology describing the third dimension as a separate spiritual plane found in an unseeable direction "upward, but not northward" from the mundane mortal plane. It was at this time that they adopted the name Higher Dimensional Gate, and their young leader announced that his spiritual contacts in the third dimension had granted him the title Magister Mentium—teacher of minds (or, perhaps more ominously, master of minds).

Higher Dimensional Gate aggressively recruited new followers, with the Magister leaving school to support a frenetic pace of traveling speaking engagements. More and more devotees followed him from town to town, overfilling hotels wherever they went and flooding parking lots with a caravan of RVs and trailers. Fliers they left in their wake offered mail-order pamphlets, sermon recordings, and religious paraphernalia. But the cult didn't break into the national consciousness until a couple of theoretical astrophysicists published a paper debunking pop culture misinformation on the third dimension.

Along with referencing several sci-fi shows spreading the idea that the third dimension allowed time travel, the authors dove into the bizarre beliefs of several New Age authors, speakers, and religious movements. They particularly maligned the ideas put forth by Higher Dimensional Gate, calling their descriptions of angelic aliens and spirit guides "misleading fairy tales" with no scientific basis in reality. They said the Magister Mentium would have done better to finish a basic public education before making claims about the third dimension.

The paper didn't receive much notice outside popular science magazines—until the Magister Mentium released a vicious public rebuttal that made national news for its absurdity.

Soundbites from his twenty-minute rant were broadcast in news segments about fringe religious movements and scientific literacy. Talk shows played quotes as fodder for jokes. Editorialists predicted that the young triangle was the sort of crooked cult leader who'd be on trial in a decade for cheating his worshipers out of their life savings. Only a few programs played even as much as a full minute from his speech:

"These scientists want you to think that the third dimension is some dead realm hidden behind a door you'll never see—and I'm telling you it's not! It's the dream realm! It's the realm of spirits and positive energy! It stretches into all possible futures, and if you could peer into it, you'd see the road to your own best possible future!

"And I know this. Because unlike these pessimistic brainiacs who mock what they don't understand, I can see the third dimension. I can witness the 'sun' in all its glory—a blazing white circle, more dazzling than anything you've ever seen, so bright it burns like fire to stare at it! I can see it pass through the pinpoint white lights of the 'stars'!

"And I can prove it.

"The most 'educated' minds in the scientific community can't predict an eclipse. They look at their historical records and they do a little math, hope they'll get lucky, and shrug if they're wrong—what do they know? All they can do is guess!

"But with my own all-seeing eye, I've personally witnessed a phenomenon that scientists can't even imagine. I know what passes between the sun and our plane—and I know when it's coming.

"I note all my detractors are in the camp that thinks the sun flickers.

"So let's run a scientific experiment. I challenge the scientific community to predict the next eclipse more accurately than me. I'll give it to you within the minute. In fact—I'll sweeten the deal! I'll give a million dollars to any nerd who can guess more accurately than me! I will personally hand you the prize money!"

"But if you want the prize, you'd better guess soon. Because the eclipse will be here in two weeks. I can already see it on the horizon."

It was nearly seven months until New Year's.

Sources close to the Magister's family claimed he was a spendthrift with nowhere near a million dollars on hand.

When asked to comment on the public ridicule his challenge had inspired, the Magister snidely replied, "We'll see who's laughing after the eclipse."

####

Gideon approached the Mystery Shack disguised in a pair of sunglasses and a camo jacket from his father's closet. The jacket was as long as a dress on him. It was hot.

He kept outside the tree line as he circled the shack, passing the gift shop, the house door, and finally the long side of the house where tourists never parked and the residents rarely ventured.

Gideon peered anxiously at each window for witnesses. He looked up at the attic dormer which once held the window of Bill's face; he caught a flash of bright golden curls pulling out of sight, and flinched. No, that was fine. That was who he was here for. Weren't any other blondes in the house.

When he was sure the coast was clear, he ran across the open ground from the trees to the side door, heart threatening to beat out of his chest. By the time he reached the door, Bill was already downstairs in the floor room, hands and grinning face pressed to the window like a child awaiting a special delivery. He waved excitedly at Gideon.

Gideon hissed, "Shh!" and immediately felt stupid about it.

He partially unzipped his jacket, pulled a manila envelope out of an inner pocket, knelt, and shoved it under the door. As Bill had promised, the door had poor weatherstripping and the envelope slid in easily.

A napkin covered in faint dry marker writing slid out. Gideon picked it up and read it. "Nice work ☆ Boy! I'll pass you the next message at Town Hall. Get yourself something nice, my treat. ◡̈" Inside the napkin's fold was a $5 coupon to the hardware store. It was expired.

Looking at the coupon, Gideon asked himself what a powerless imprisoned demon could really do to help his father's business.

Inside the shack, Bill checked the doorway to ensure no humans were coming for a few minutes, flopped onto the flat old sofa, and pulled several sheets of notebook paper out of the envelope: the answers to all the questions he'd told Gideon to ask his worshiper. He skimmed past her name to the second question: how had they located Bill?

At the sight of a familiar name, his heart leaped into his throat, then slowly sank into its cage again as he read the rest. "Someone calling himself Stanford Pines reached out, claiming to be an ex-cultist wanting to help other victims of the cult. He said the cult's 'founder' was incarcerated. He sounded like an enemy, but they thought he might know something about your disappearance and sent Sue."

Until the last moment, Bill had held onto a sliver of hope. As much as Ford said he couldn't stand Bill, somebody had had to contact his artists, and who else...?

But there it was. It had been Ford; but he hadn't been trying to save Bill. He'd just been trying to rip the nails out of one more thing Bill had built.

Fine. Bill wasn't wasting time on lost causes. He'd never really seen Ford as a friend, anyway. If Ford was stupid enough to throw away a god's favor, that was his loss. Bill could kill him with the rest when he had his power back. He didn't care. He'd just... really thought he could win him back over.

He crumpled up the pages, tossed them on the floor, and hunched forward to rub his eyelid with his hand.

Well, trying to get Ford back on his side had just been a way to pass the time. He hadn't taken it seriously. Not really.

He leaned back, flopped his head on the backrest cushion, and sighed; and then he fished the pages off the floor and smoothed them back out.

He read through the rest of the information Gideon had obtained. His girls in Death Valley had indeed been awaiting his arrival "as Bill requested"; and when he didn't show up on schedule, they'd taken to waiting for him in shifts for half a year before giving up. The way Bill had "requested" was to stack themselves into a human throne for him—he imagined Sue hadn't wanted to mention that detail on the phone with a kid. And they'd kept that up for six months? In shifts? That was hysterical. What a bunch of lunatics. He couldn't wait to meet the gals in person, he was just going to love them. Sue was set up at an inn a few towns west—not a lot of motels in this lonely part of Oregon—and there were a couple more girls in Portland who could be here in an hour.

They'd also made contact with a few devotees of Bill's teachings in Washington, but hadn't told them his exact location. Unsurprising—if they were the devotees he was thinking of, they were less "hardy New Age hippie spiritualists looking forward to the creation of a bright new world" and more "paranoid doomsday preppers anticipating being the last survivors of the doomed old world." The Death Valley group probably didn't trust them. Just about all of Bill's "students" were freaks of one sort or another—if not when he met them, then by the time he was done with them—but different varieties of freaks usually clashed. He had to keep them safely corralled into separate sects to maintain the harmony and their loyalty.

They were all so, so close—all these humans just waiting for an opportunity to meet him, touch him, save him, serve him, love him. They were so close he could almost reach out and grab them.

But "almost" wouldn't get them into his hands.

Something would come up soon. He was sure. He could feel it.

####

Sometimes, stairs just weren't worth the effort.

Bill understood, intellectually, that stair steps had a "top" surface and a "side" surface. He also understood that, given how gravity worked in this dimension, you could only step on their top surfaces. He knew this. He was smart. He'd personally worked out the equations to calculate how gravity worked in this dimension ages before an apple beaned Newton.

It was just that, when he looked at a staircase, he couldn't shake the impression that someone had simply taken a 2D plane and artistically folded it into a zigzag. And on a folded 2D plane, there wasn't a "top" surface and a "side" surface; there was just the surface, and a 3D body could stand anywhere atop the surface with no problem.

So he would try to get from the attic to the kitchen, subconsciously decide that rather than walking "down" the stairs standing vertically he wanted to walk "up" the stairs standing horizontally, and he'd try to lean forward to put his foot on the side of a step—and then his face was on the floor again.

And even when he kept his ups up and his sides sideways, sometimes over-concentrating on where to step distracted him into tripping anyway.

The stairs in the Quadrangle of Qonfusion never gave him trouble. They worked fine both vertically and horizontally, he'd designed them that way. And also he didn't need to use them. He could float. They were mainly there for the outerplanar Henchmaniacs and because Bill liked the zigzag motif. He was much less fond of stairs these days. When he got home, he was ripping them all out and replacing them with ladders and slides.

He was better with stairs than he'd been when he first occupied this body. But when he didn't focus on every single step, he still tended to slip up. He often got to the stairs and saw his body crumpled on the landing fifteen seconds in the future. If the damage wasn't too severe, sometimes he just resigned himself to the bruises and stepped off the ledge. Had to get downstairs somehow, after all.

But sometimes the future held a broken leg, or an unconscious heap, or a lot of blood. When that happened, sometimes he'd shuffle his footing a bit until the future looked less painful and then try descending. Sometimes he'd creep down to the last safe step and then look for a less fatal route the rest of the way down.

And sometimes he got halfway down the stairs, saw looming disaster, couldn't for the life of him figure out how to avoid it, and thought forget it and just sat down in the middle of the staircase. If he waited there long enough, eventually whatever he'd been about to instinctively do would change, and he could safely finish his journey.

Stairs were, by far, the most frequent and most stupid of his inconveniences as a human.

He never thought to bring something to read in case he hit unexpected delays on the stairs. There was nothing interesting to do, and he didn't so much as have a window to look out of. He got bored. He was constantly sleep-deprived. Sometimes he fell asleep, leaning against the wall.

He'd overheard the humans speculating on why he liked to nap on the stairs. The leading theory was that it had been normal in his home dimension, followed closely by runner-up theory "just to annoy us." None had asked him directly. They usually just left him alone on the stairs. But not today.

Bill flinched out of sleep as his leg was kicked. A fizzling field of white pinpricks filled his vision and faded as he opened his eyes. "Mruh?"

"You're blocking the stairs," Dipper said. This time Bill had fallen asleep on the stairs below the landing, slouched down with his shoulders and head against the wall, legs stretched across two stair steps and knees raised.

"And you're disturbing my sleep." Bill yawned and glanced downstairs. Coast was clear. He could get to the living room with nothing but a fumble on the next to bottom step now.

"Get out of the way." Dipper kicked his leg again.

Well, now Bill didn't want to get up. He kicked Dipper back. "No. Your ancestors lived in trees, act like it."

"What?"

"Climb, monkey boy."

Dipper grumbled, but surveyed his roadblock thoughtfully. He experimentally lifted a foot over Bill's abdomen, considered how far down it was to the next step, and scooted down to Bill's feet instead. Bill watched with a smirk as Dipper clung to the railing and gingerly stepped over one foot to the edge of the stair step, and then the next. Bill briefly considered tripping him, decided it wasn't worth getting in trouble, and instead twitched a foot up as Dipper passed over and laughed when he jumped.

"Jerk," Dipper muttered. "This is why you only have one friend."

The jab ripped at a raw sore in his chest. Ex-cultist. "Whatever!" He laughed loudly. "My real friends are all one little interdimensional rift away, I didn't come here to make pals with humans." He jerked his hood down over his eyes and slouched lower, arms crossed tight. "I don't even care. This entire universe is a hologram and nothing's real anyway."

There was silence. Bill congratulated himself on getting the last word in; and then Dipper said, "What does that mean?"

"What kind of stupid—it means I don't care about you, what do you think it means? You're made from the exhaust belched out of a star's tailpipe—"

"I meant, the hologram thing. You're always saying stuff about the universe not being real, what are you talking about."

Bill thumbed the hem of his hood up and glanced down at Dipper. He was standing at the bottom of the stairs, looking up determinedly. He'd pulled out his journal and pen. He was serious. He was all ready to learn about the secrets of the universe.

Ford's little wanna-be protégé with his little knock-off Journal, wasn't he adorable. He wanted so much to be just like his great uncle. And in many ways, he was like a younger Ford. The ignorant, arrogant, insecure, naïve, easily-flattered, easily-exploited younger Ford, back before he grew a personality. Except even back at his most boring, Ford had found the strange beautiful where this kid only found it interesting. You don't have what it takes to be Ford.

Bill was already filling this brat's head with gunk—bogus conspiracy theories, wild goose chases after lucid dreaming, nightmares about whole dimensions that existed only as parables for somebody else. What was a little bit more? He could give this kid something to talk to his therapist about. Something that—in his darkest, lowest, loneliest moments—would come back to mind, and remind him that nothing he did would ever matter.

Plus, he hoped Ford would look in on the living room and seethe about not being his student anymore.

"All right kid, sure! Fine. You just so happened to catch me on a day when I've got nothing to do." Bill stood, stretched, and sauntered down the stairs. He fumbled on the next to bottom step. "You wanna know about the universe? You wanna know the big secret?"

"Uh..." Dipper eagerly flipped through his journal, looking for a blank page. Apparently he hadn't expected Bill to actually indulge his curiosity. "'Secret'?" He trailed after Bill into the living room.

"Okay, okay, maybe it's not a 'secret'—a secret suggests somebody's trying to hide it. It's just that nobody thinks you're important enough to tell and you're too primitive to see it for yourself."

Bill turned around, a lecturer on a stage. Dipper sat on the couch and tried to position his journal on his knees to take notes. He looked so attentive. He thought he was going to enjoy this.

"So you remember what I told you about the second dimension. That from the third dimension's perspective, it's nothing but shadows cast on a wall."

"Plato's cave. Yeah."

"Your dimension is a lot like that. There are higher dimensions than this, and your entire universe is being projected down from one of them. If being in the second dimension and seeing into the third is like being a shadow looking at the entrance to the cave, then being in the third and seeing into the fourth is like a character on a movie screen looking out at the film projector. While you're distracted by the movie, I'm studying the film reel and watching the frames coming up. It's how I tell the future—and you can't even tell yourself I'm lying about that, because you've seen me do it."

Dipper grumbled, "You've spoiled the killer on Duck-tective."

"I've spoiled the killer on Duck-tective! Twice!"

Dipper was furiously taking notes. "Wait—so, the fourth dimension really is time? Mabel and I kinda visited the fourth dimension once, but I wasn't sure if it being 'time' was, like, some kind of metaphor..."

"Ha! Listen to you! That's like asking if the third dimension is light. No. Time isn't the fourth dimension. It's just in the fourth dimension," Bill said. "And for the record you didn't really visit the fourth dimension. The glowing blue tunnel with floating clocks and calendars? That was a metaphor."

"Aw man," Dipper muttered, disappointed.

"So when you say you can see the future, you mean—you literally see it? With your eyeballs?"

"All-seeing eye," Bill said smugly.

"Can... you teach me?"

"No. It's not a learnable skill. You're either born with an inner—what's the human phrase?—a third eye, or you aren't."

Dipper processed that. "How do I find out if I have—?"

"You don't."

"Aw."

Bill waited for Dipper to scribble down a couple more lines before he casually dropped the next bombshell: "In fact, not only have you never been 'in' the fourth dimension—your universe isn't really even third dimensional."

Dipper's pen gouged into the page. "What do you mean, it's not third dimensional!"

"I mean you've got two dimensions and the third's an illusion. Hologram, remember?"

"What are you—" Dipper waved a hand around in the air. "I'm moving my arm through the third dimension right now!"

"No you're not."

Dipper threw his pen on the ground. "Okay, you're messing with me!"

"Not this time. Listen. Got a little riddle for you: what do Plato's cave and a movie theater have in common?"

Dipper pursed his lips angrily, but he'd been issued a riddle and couldn't resist trying to solve it. "Sitting in the dark, staring at shapes?"

"Ha! Look at it, it still thinks it's part of the audience!" Bill wagged a finger disapprovingly. "In both cases, everyone and everything in the show is an illusion—just light and shadows projected on a flat wall."

"But—! The world would look flat if it was 2D—"

"It does look flat. 2D is all you've ever seen," Bill said. He held his hands out, thumbs and forefingers forming a rectangle like a picture frame, his exposed eye staring through it at Dipper. "Your eyes only see a pair of two-dimensional images that your brain interprets as 3D because it's been trained to. Depth perception is an optical illusion! You can't actually witness the depth of an object—your brain uses context clues to guess it! And the context clues are lying to you."

Dipper scowled. "But." He paused. "It's different."

"Uh-huh." Bill leaned against a wall, feigning a yawn. "Okay, wow me with your philosophy."

"Pictures on paper are 2D, and they don't look 3D, so since the real world does look 3D..."

"Hey, you know that autostereogram art your sister's friend likes so much? Magic Vision Posters?" Bill asked. "Cross your eyes a little and a 3D illusion pops out of the page?"

Dipper's frown deepened.

Bill's smile widened. "And those are just manmade pictures. The projectors I'm talking about are cosmically complex. If it's so easy to trick your brain into seeing something three dimensional in a flat image, then how do you know, really know, that everything around you is 3D rather than an infinitely complex 2D hologram?"

"Be... cause..." Dipper looked around, grasping for another defense of reality as he knew it. He picked his pen off the floor. "Because I can touch an object and feel it's 3D! Even if my eyes can be fooled, I can... look, I can feel the curve of the barrel and everything."

"And?" Bill asked. "If your laundry comes out of the dryer unexpectedly cool, you think it's damp because your species didn't evolve wetness-sensing nerves. And you still trust your sense of touch?"

"Wait, that's why that happens?"

"Uh-huh. Water is wet, your t-shirts aren't, and your third dimension's an optical illusion."

Dipper slouched back on the couch, arms crossed, chewing his pen, brows drawn and eyes unfocused. Bill watched with a smirk as Dipper's faith in an objective observable reality slowly eroded before his very eye. For someone so eager to burrow into the strange, Dipper wanted so much for the world to make sense. That was why he was burrowing into the strange in the first place: to shine a flashlight on the things that go bump in the dark.

Maybe that was what rubbed Bill so wrong about this kid. Bill was sure that, deep in his heart, Dipper didn't really know how to celebrate the weird; he only wanted to expand the boundaries of normal. Disgusting.

Finally, Dipper mumbled, "How did you find this out?"

"This little shadow peeled itself off the wall and flew out of the cave—do you think I stopped there? I've seen further! What looks like an inescapable labyrinth to a two-dimensional Minotaur is nothing but a fun maze in a puzzle book when you can see over the walls from the third dimension's perspective. And once you can see the fourth dimension, your so-called 'third' dimension looks no different! I can see through walls, into boxes, past barriers; and I can see just how flat your world really is. Like taking a photo and looking at it from the edge."

"Hm." Dipper was still staring into space.

Bill's smug smile drooped into a frown. Dipper didn't look like he'd absorbed anything Bill just said. He hated an inattentive audience.

He crossed the room, planting a hand on the couch backrest by Dipper's head to lean over him, and waited until Dipper looked up into his eye. Bill said, "And I can tell you, beyond a shadow of a doubt: you're no more real to the things projecting your universe than the shadows in Plato's cave are to you. This. Entire. Universe. Doesn't. Exist. And nothing that happens here matters."

That little look of doubt edging into dread was so, so satisfying.

Bill pushed himself upright and sauntered to the door, his hex cast, ready to leave Dipper alone with his budding existential crisis. "So that's why I try to have fun with it! Your whole dimension is like an amusement park. Why hang out in a cave unless you're leaving cave paintings, who cares what the shadows think about the graffiti?"

"What's in those higher dimensions?"

Bill paused, glancing over his shoulder. "'Scuse me?"

"Something's gotta be running the 'projector' or whatever, right?" He asked it with an edge of desperation, like if Dipper could just make it that far, the world would make sense again. "Movies have audiences. Who're they?"

Bill stared at Dipper—and then slowly grinned again. What a glutton for misery. Feed him a bitter spoonful of poisonous knowledge and he asks for the bowl. But of course—tell him that reality isn't real and the next thing he wants to know is where to find reality.

Okay, fine, Bill would keep playing—this was almost fun. "Higher dimensional beings! Duh."

"What are they like?"

"Wretched incomprehensible shapeshifting contortions of flesh and bone that appear to gorily mutate as their vast bodies pass through the dimensions your limited eyes are capable of viewing. Seeing them will drive you mad."

"Ah. Great," Dipper said. "But what are they like as people?"

"From your perspective, all-knowing and unknowable. Talking to them will also drive you mad."

"I'm detecting a theme here," Dipper grumbled.

Bill gave him a polite golf clap. "Another win for human pattern-detection instincts! Give 'im a hand." (Oh, Bill wished he had his powers. It would be so funny to give Dipper a giant disembodied hand.)

In spite of his visible irritation, Dipper was still taking notes. "Is it possible for a human to meet one?"

"You've got more pattern-detection instincts than self-preservation instincts," Bill said wryly. "But sure, of course it's possible. In fact, I think you already met one."

That got him looking up from his journal. "I did?"

"Sure! Not here, but in a parallel universe that doesn't exist anymore. No clue what you talked about, I steer away from that guy when I can. But hey, maybe you'll remember it someday."

"How can I remember it if it happened to a parallel me in another universe?"

"When things like him speak, they leave vast echoes. Even across timelines."

Dipper considered that. "Could I meet him again?"

"Maybe if he takes an interest in you. Pray he doesn't. Prayers won't actually help, but it's something to keep your mind occupied!"

"Is it possible to be more proactive about meeting one of them?"

Bill laughed. "Kid, you're stupid. And that makes you very entertaining."

"Great?"

"But if you wanna break into some cosmic horror's living room, sure! If they don't come down here, all you need to do is go up there."

And back to taking notes Dipper went. "You gonna elaborate, orrr..."

"Ha, fine. The issue is you're not built for higher dimensions. Like I said, you might seem real to yourself here, but there you'd just be a light on a wall." He made a circle between his forefinger and thumb, turned his hand upside down, and peered through the circle like a monocle. "If you want to ascend, you need an aperture to translate between dimensions—something through which fourth-dimensional spacetime can be compacted enough to appear three-dimensional, or pseudo three-dimensional spacetime can be augmented with a fourth dimension. With an aperture like that, you can climb up and down the dimensional ladder to visit anywhere level of reality you want—from the zeroth dimension to the billionth."

"Including wherever our universe's projector is?"

"Bingo. Unfortunately for your suicidal ambitions, inventing an aperture capable of manipulating spacetime like that needs a lot of science humanity is nowhere near mastering; but with the materials humanity currently knows how to manufacture, I bet building one would be pretty simple if you got instructions from a species that's already done it." Bill arched his brows mockingly. "Hey, might even make a fun little summer project, if you don't mind going insane. Something to take to the science fair next year, huh?"

"Shut up," Dipper said. "And—if you got out of your dimension—do you know about species that can give those instructions?"

"Suuure! Heck, give me a couple pieces of paper and a pen and I could probably whip up the blueprints myself."

Dipper nodded. Dipper processed that. Dipper glared at Bill. "Wait a minute. Are you trying to get me to build another portal for you?!"

Bill cackled, doubling over. Voice shrill, he said, "I was wondering how long it'd take you!"

"Oh my god."

He groped for an arm chair and dropped down, still laughing. "I was this close to saying 'why don't you ask your uncle for the blueprints' to see if you'd get it!" He wheezed, "Can you imagine the look on his face!"

Dipper chucked his pen at Bill. "I hate you."

"Hook, line, and sinker! You idiot!" He slid halfway out of his seat, covering his face with his hands.

Dipper groaned. "So you made up all that stuff about the third dimension being fake and the universe being a hologram?"

Bill struggled to control his laughter enough to catch his breath. "No—no, all that was true. A hundred percent scientifically verifiable!"

"Shut up, man." Dipper got off the couch, kicked the back of Bill's armchair as he passed, and trudged into the gift shop.

####

"Hey Grunkle Ford? Is the third dimension actually an illusion being projected out of the fourth?"

"Been talking to Bill again, have you?"

Dipper winced. "I mean. Well. But he's not telling the truth, is he?"

"Mmm..." Ford waggled a hand uncertainly.

"What."

"Based on our current knowledge of quantum mechanics, it's not impossible," Ford admitted. "And it would explain some things about black holes."

"Ugh. That's the worst thing I've ever heard." Dipper rubbed his eyes. "How do you live with that?"

"With what?"

"Thinking the entire universe might be, just... some kind of projection? Like a movie?" Dipper said. "I mean... what's the point of doing anything if everything's fake. That's awful."

Ford pressed his lips together.

####

1981

"The universe is what?" Ford asked.

His muse shrugged apologetically. "Sorry to break it to ya, kid! I figured you'd rather hear it from me than—"

"But—but that's amazing!" Ford started pacing across the dreamscape's translucent grid floor. "The implications for physics, for faster-than-light travel, for, for—for religion?" He looked at Bill. "Is the projection a natural phenomenon or someone's creation."

"Uh," Bill said. "Creation?"

"Then who made it? Descartes' 'evil genius'? A demiurge? God?"

Bill laughed. "Kid, depending on your interdimensional political opinions, those are three names for the same guy."

"He's real?"

"Define 'real'," Bill said. "And 'he.' And 'is.'"

"I... I cannot do that!" Ford resumed pacing, muttering again about the implications.

Eye crinkled in amusement, Bill said, "I've gotta say, Stanford, you're taking this pretty well. Most humans don't like hearing they're secretly flat."

Ford barked a laugh. "'Most humans' didn't like hearing that the Earth isn't the center of the solar system. I'm a man of science! If we could prove this, it would be the biggest leap forward in physics since special relativity!" He beamed at Bill. "Do you realize what this means?"

Bill pointed at their portal calculations. "It means if you want to get this working, you need to zero out all the depth values."

"Ah." Ford's shoulders sagged. "Yes. That too."

"Wish you'd taken that fourth semester of Fifth-Dimensional Calculus now?"

"Hush," Ford said sourly, and was immediately mortified at himself for being so disrespectful to his muse; but Bill laughed with what sounded like genuine delight.

####

2013

"Right," Ford said self-consciously. "Awful."

####

At three a.m., Dipper lay in bed, gnawing at his shirt collar, staring at the ceiling.

Yeah. Oh yeah. He could feel it. Wondering whether reality was real would haunt him the rest of his life.

####

Bill slept like a baby.

Nothing like bullying a child to improve a miserable day.

####

Bill woke the next morning from a nightmare about—what had it been about. Being trapped in the bathroom as a metaphor for... something or other. Being trapped in general, probably. Great, had that incident given him trauma? Was he gonna start having recurring nightmares? Would this be a thing he had to deal with? What a miserable malfunctioning species humans were.

He could see the beforeimage of Mabel coming upstairs; not enough time to pull out his dream diary. He'd just have to remember it to write down later. He sat up, cracked his sore neck, and shuffled to the stairs in search of breakfast.

His foot missed the first step and landed on empty air, his stomach lurched, and he braced for a rough landing. In the split second he hung in the air, he thought that he wasn't supposed to fall, he'd looked. Hadn't he looked? He was sure he had—he didn't remember looking, but he could always see, if there'd been an injury in his imminent future he would have subconsciously noticed it and stopped to evaluate, the fact that he'd just walked meant there was nothing for him to notice—right? Idiot, why hadn't he double checked before he just walked off half-asleep—

It occurred to him that this split second was lasting a lot longer than it was supposed to.

He caught the handrail. His fall stopped as he gently bumped into the wall.

"Huh." He straightened up, gave the stairs a puzzled look; and then, experimentally, did a little hop. He went higher than he'd meant to, and hung in the air longer than he should have. He repeated the experiment a couple of times; and then, took a bigger jump forward, aiming for a couple of steps down. He seemed to float in the air for a moment before his feet gently settled on the wooden board. "Oo-oo-ooh." He looked around the stairwell, baffled; and then he looked up, eye burning as he stared through the roof and into the sky.

A chill ran up his spine. "Uh-oh."

####

Dipper frowned at his syrup bottle as the syrup painstakingly oozed out. When he let up his squeezing even a little bit, the syrup sucked back in.

"Come on." He squeezed again and shook the bottle over his pancakes. Like morning dew on the fruits hanging above the head of Tantalus, a round drop of syrup glistened under the skin-softening kitchen light, but never fell. "What's the problem?" Dipper wiped the drop onto his finger and wiped his finger on his pancakes.

Mabel slammed the door open and pounded into the kitchen. "Dipper! Come outside, I need to show you something!" They ran out.

Mabel stood on the edge of the porch, held up an orange glitter-filled super bounce ball the size of a walnut, and said, "Watch this!" She flung the ball down on the porch step as hard as she could.

It rocketed up into the sky, arcing away from the Mystery Shack toward the forest. Dipper's jaw dropped. "Whoa!"

"I just lost four balls that way!" Mabel planted her hands on her hips, watching with satisfaction as the pinprick point of the latest ball soared upward until it disappointed. "I'm gonna get some more!" She ran inside and bolted up the stairs.

Ford passed from the gift shop into the living room, frowning. He picked up a magazine left on the dinosaur skull, flipped through it, and observed how slowly the pages fluttered. "Hmm."

From the entryway, he could hear Stan down the hall on the office phone: "Hello? Doctor? This is Stan Pines. Yeah, I got a medical question. I stepped on the scale this morning, and it says I lost twenty percent of my weight overnight. Do I have cancer?" There was a pause. "Eighth call this morning?! What is this, some kinda bug going around town?"

Dipper closed the door as he came back inside. "Hey, Grunkle Ford? I think there's something..."

"Something strange going on? Yes, I've noticed," he said. "It seems that gravity is about twenty percent lower than usual." He pulled his sparkly birthday pen out of his coat pocket and dropped it from several feet up into his other hand. It fell just a bit slower than normal—not enough that it looked like it was on the moon, but enough that the motion looked uncanny.

"What's going on?"

"I don't..." Ford trailed off as a flash of bright yellow appeared in his peripheral vision. He turned toward the stairs.

Bill had stepped onto the landing. He looked at the bottom half of the staircase with a critical, calculating gaze; and then jumped off the top step. In a single smooth, slow arc, he leaped over all the stairs and descended, slow as a feather, to land lightly on the floor.

"Whoa." Under his breath, Dipper said, "That's a lot more than twenty percent lower."

It just figured he had something to do with this. "Bill," Ford snapped. "What's going on?"

He wasn't expecting Bill to give him such a solemn look.

"There's an eclipse coming," Bill said. "I'd give it three days."

####

(Be honest how long did it take you to figure out Bill was just seeing if he could get Dipper hyped about building a portal. Anyway, hope you enjoyed!! We're heading into the biggest storyline so far—plotwise, lengthwise, and emotionwise—so I'd love to hear what you're thinking and expecting so far!)

#bill cipher #human bill cipher #dipper pines #gravity falls #gravity falls fic #gravity falls fanart #fanart #my art #my writing #bill goldilocks cipher

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