#also unsure if the dark stain should be completely dark or if i should leave the slightest hint of an eye

[druidonity2]

wip

[jameui]

MOVIE DATE

PAIRING: Hwang Hyunjin x Manager!M!Reader

GENRE: Angst, Fluff

WARNING: Hyunjin being a jerk

SUMMARY: You boyfriend, Hyunjin took you out on a date to watch your favorite movie.

You sighed in exhaustion and as if the world was trying to test you, a fast running bicycle came your way causing you to jump to the side, so fast that you forgot about the takeouts you had in your hands and at a blink of an eye the neatly boxed items fell to the ground, all the food now spilled on the floor with your eyes widening in fear. "Shit!" You yelled out and tried to get back to the restaurant again, but as soon as you got there the line was already long and it'd take you ages to get to the counter to order, again.

You were at your way to your work with your phone squeezed in between your shoulder and ear as you talked to your co-manager on the other line who seemed agitated for your tardiness, while you tried to balance the foods you were made to order. "Yes, sir. I'll make sure that won't happen again." You told the male before the call was cut short when he decided to hang up all of a sudden.

Looking around, you saw a chinese restaurant that had the smallest line, so you went there and bought the food there, even though the orders of the group was not exactly what they wanted for you to buy. You just couldn't go back empty handed.

After a few minutes of walking, you finally arrived at the venue of the fansign event and got there just in time before Stray Kids were called to the stage for their activity to be done, but the moment you got there you saw that the people present were already eating their food away. They noticed your presence entering the room whilst their head turned to look at you. "I... Good morning, everyone." You greeted them. 'Guess their manager got their food delivered.'

You didn't get a reply, except from the group who was more than happy to see that you had food on your hands. "Hyung! Thank God. I was starving." The group's youngest, Jeongin said as he helped you put the foods down on the table. "You're seriously a life saver."

You smiled at him giving him a muttered thanks that earned you a smile from Jeongin. Honestly speaking, Jeongin was the second best person you ever liked in the group, the first being Lee Felix since he was the only person to ever approach you on your first day since he was able to see how much you were so nervous. Felix was also one of the members who taught you korean, the other being Bang Chan. You had always knew the group back then, and now and you were damn thankful that you got the opportunity to be in their circle.

Knowing how young you were to be working for them, they treated you nicely, not because they needed to, rather cause it was in their nature to be caring. Well, at least except one person. You were the closest to Felix who treated you like his personal manager and a friend as well, going out on friendly dates with you to the park, dog cafés, just anywhere Felix would find interesting to visit.

Who's the person that seemed irritated whenever you were around you ask? Why, the one and only visual king, Hwang Hyunjin. He doesn't actually treat you bad, but the way his eyes would always turn dark or displeased when you show up in his line of sight made you feel so small and felt totally unwelcomed. That was then, apparently, since today the male looked a little too quiet and didn't even bother to look at you. Believe me or not that's actually the kindest thing he's done to you.

You would try to go to him to try and talk to him, worried by his silence. You just furrowed your brows and sighed completely aware that no matter how much you try to talk to him he won't even dare to acknowledge you being there for him.

"M/n, are you just gonna stand there? Come and eat." Chan told you, but you just politely declined his offer with the shake of your head before telling him that you had just taken your breakfast and that you were full, more and you feel like your stomach's gonna burst. "Hm, suit yourself, but I'll be leaving mine untouched, so you can eat it when you get hungry, yeah?"

"You're so kind, Chan." You gave him a smile that got Chan smiling also showing his deep dimples that you could just dive in it anytime soon.

"Hey, hey, hey! We've known each other the longest. Why do I still have to call you 'hyung' and M/n doesn't?" Jisung, one of the group's rapper, pouted with folded arms as Chan chuckled before ruffling the kid's hair that Jisung angrily shook off.

"Well, since he's not that spoiled, unlike you." Chan answered Jisung who gasped dramatically. "And he also gained my permission, so—"

"Whenever or not he's around, is he the only person that ever comes into your mind?" That all too familiar voice spoke out, all your heads turning towards the person. He scoffed and stood up with a smirk on his face, probably in disbelief that the whole group was talking to you and always thought about you. "I mean, come on. There's gotta be something else to talk about other than this... person." You felt his eyes look at you while your eyes stared at him with rising anger. "There's sports, other artists, songs, music, so many and you chose to pick him as the topic of your talk."

"Hyunjin, that is very disrespectful." Chan gritted out, but Hyunjin knew better than to listen or to even stop.

"I'm really not, hyung." Hyunjin's smirk grew wider eyeing you with a suspicious look on his eyes. An idea popped in his head as he opened his mouth to talk. "But, if you want to, I could show you how disrespectful I can get." Without any warning, he took the take-out container and bottled drink in his hand and gave you no second to react as he poured all of its contents onto your head with a loud gasp coming out of you. "There. I'll call it a masterpiece even."

"Hwang Hyunjin!" Bang Chan's voice boomed through the whole room a still smirking Hyunjin turning around to face the older male who was fuming with anger. "You—"

"Chan!" You called out to him before things got a little out of hand. For pete's sake their going to just fight because Hyunjin had made a mess of you? You were not even worth the fight. "No. I'm fine. I can just quickly change, that's all. I'll be right back and I better get no reports about you two fighting." You told the two, Chan rolling his eyes.

You got out of the room and ran as fast as you can to the nearest restroom, cleaning yourself as soon as you arrived. Times like this you would immediately bawl your eyes out, but with the constant behavior that Hyunjin showed to you, you grew used to it. Heck, you even sometimes feel that the other boys only act like they liked you being there and when you weren't, they'd stab you behind your back. "Goodness, why won't this get off."

"Need help?" A raspy voice came from the entrance of the restroom, turning your head around to see Felix leaning himself on the door frame with his arms crossed, then untangled them to let his hands rest inside his pockets and stepped inside as you smiled at him. "Do you need more tissue?"

You shook your head at him, your attention back on your stained favorite shirt wiping them clean with the tissues the place's restroom owned. "Nah, there's plenty here. Besides, I'm all dried up now." You said and showed yourself to him, Felix knitting his brows in worry.

He seeped air through his teeth and cocked his head to the side, unsure if you should be wearing that now dirty shirt when you'd be with them during the activity the whole time. "I don't think you should be wearing that."

"Why? It's my favorite sweater." You chuckled half-heartedly.

"Yeah, I know, M/n, but it's dirty. Plus, I think it gets pretty uncomfortable seeing that stain on your shirt and it gets sticky. Yeugh." Felix pretended to barf which got you laughing softly. Felix, though not trying to be funny, whatever he does it always seemed so funny to you.

"Fine, fine. I'll go change, the problem though is that I didn't bring an extra shirt with me today." You told Felix scratching your nape.

"Really? Well, I guess we have to borrow from one of the group's." Felix suggested, but your eyes grew sizes bigger upon hearing that and waved your hands.

"No way, Felix! I have already done enough damage, I can't afford to borrow a shirt from one of the members, or to you even." You told him, but it all fell on deaf ears as Felix refused to listen. "I'm just trouble, Felix. You don't have to worry about me."

Felix hummed with two fingers pinching his chin gently. "Yeah, I don't think so." He took your wrist and started to drag you back to the dressing room. "Come on, I know there's someone willing to let you borrow a shirt." You just sighed, knowing that Felix won't even dare to change his mind when he had already set them on something.

Alas, as you two got there, none of the members even had a spare shirt to let you borrow. They were very willing and even tried to look around if there was anything, but to no avail. Although, there was one last person you didn't ask. "Hyunjin. You were the cause of this mess, you let him borrow your shirt." Felix sternly told the older male who pilled his brows together.

"What?! No way! Are you telling me I'd offer to do something for that guy? No!" Hyunjin retorted making Felix growl.

Felix was so ready to throw punches at the male who didn't seem to be bothered by the situation, but you just put a hand on Felix's shoulder and assured him. "That's alright, Felix. My sweater was thick enough to not get my undershirt wet. Although, I'm grateful for your effort." You smiled at him and sighed.

Just in time, you heard a call from one of your co-manager that the group was already being requested to be at the stage right now. You gave them an encouraging smile as they all did the same. "Alright boys. It's time to go out there and meet millions of your fans."

The group all shouted, excluding Hyunjin, hurray and hurried out to get on stage, you following behind after you were able to discard your sweater, leaving you only on your black t-shirt. You shivered at the cold now that you were left with a thin clothing that wasn't appropriate for the type of weather you were having and not mention that the place was fully air-conditioned.

Your shaking was not too evident, but one of the members, Seungmin, was able to notice it. Feeling pity he made his way to Hyunjin and tried to convince him. "Jinnie, M/n's cold. Please lend him your jacket, at least. He'll get sick if he continues to get exposed to the cold."

"Better for him."

"Hyunjin, please... Besides, you're already wearing thick layers of clothes why not let M/n borrow." Seungmin reasoned out and solemnly knitted his brows to persuade the male, Hyunjin rolling his eyes at his bestfriend and huffed before taking his jacket off of him and handed it over to Seungmin who silently squeaked. "Thanks, Hyunjin." Hyunjin brushed it off with a 'whatever', the younger of the two jogging his way towards you and gave you the jacket he got from Hyunjin. "I noticed your shivering, so I want you to take this jacket and no, you can't say you can't accept it."

You nodded your head at him and took the jacket from his hands. "Thank you, Seungmin."

"My pleasure." He smiled at you with those puppy dog like smile. He skipped back to reunite with his group while you put on the jacket that Seungmin offered you. You were still in thought though how Seungmin was able to convince Hyunjin to let you borrow his jacket. You knew Hyunjin owned the jacket since he wouldn't let them go since the moment you arrived.

You noticed how the jacket was too big for you, since the sleeves of the piece of clothing only let your fingers peek out through the holes while the flaps reached further down your hips, but it totally felt cozy and smelled like... Hyunjin. How do you explain it? You don't even know where to begin. It was him. The reason why you wanted to work with Stray Kids. You didn't want to look like you were some type of stalker, but all you ever wanted was to befriend Hyunjin.

The befriending process didn't go the way you actually thought it would go. Everytime his eyes met yours or you heard his voice you'd get all flustered and so nervous that your tongue always gets tied, the words you want to tell him gets trapped inside your mouth. It all started to be just an admiration towards the slightly older male until your determination to become his friend gradually became an unknown feeling towards Hyunjin, until realizing later that you actually liked the group's rapper, despite all his bad treatment towards you.

Back to reality, you hugged yourself and took in the wonderful scent the artist gave off until one of your co-worker nudged you. "Hey, stop sniffing the clothes. You totally look like a sasaeng."

"W-what? I wasn't sniffing anything." You denied it earning an eye roll. Later, you heard the whole place bursted into shouts of joy and excitement as Stray Kids made their appearance on the stage greeting all their fans inside and outside of the place. They all took their turns taking the mic to express their happiness and gratefulness to their ocean of fans that filled up the whole place.

Soon, the group was seated at a long rectangular table that was a perfect fit letting all the members seat on their respective seats. There were chairs as well settled in front of the table with each settled across a specific member.

You were appointed to keep guard and stand behind Hyunjin, in any case of fans throwing shade at him or any forms of harm or hate towards the member who had just been caught up in a supposed bullying rumor.

The line started to form as people who were present inside the place took their turns to talk to each member and get a sign from them. So far, you could only wonder how paranoid the company was to keep you on guard of Hyunjin when all these people here are Stays and they wouldn't do such thing to throw hate to any members in the group. Right?

The line was still too long to be gone in just minutes making you sigh, hearing your tummy rumble hoping that no one heard that. You now finally regret not eating that noodles that Chan offered you, the hunger finally hitting your system as your tummy continued to grumble. You pursed your lips and forced your eyes closed while you brought your head down in embarrassment. 'Fuck... why now?'

After a short while, the line was starting to get shorter and shorter, you thanking the heavens for the fast passing by of the time. But, the moment you least expected to happen happened. You felt a harsh tap on your legs and another and another after it finally took your attention, getting a little shocked that the action was done by the person who hated you the worst. "Take it before I change my mind." He told you. You complied and bowed at him politely as he tuts his tongue. "Who would even think of going to work on an empty stomach?"

'You... poured it on me?' You thought then shrugging it off before you looked at the treat offered to you by Hyunjin. You wondered what type of bread it was and hesitated, although Hyunjin's back was facing you he was able to sense your hard time on trying to eat what he gave you.

"It's not poisoned, M/n." He whispered as he signed the album that had his photo on it, then looking up at the fan who would like to talk to him.

Their talk wasn't audible to you, but you opened the packaging of the nicely wrapped pastry and bit on it with your body facing the wall so your back was turned against the people to cover yourself while you ate. One of your co-manager did notice your unwanted behavior and stomped his way to you and took the baked good from your hands and threw it to the ground to step on it and crush it good. "What do you think you're doing, L/n?! You're being inappropriate right now." He gritted out to you with a small voice almost like a whisper so no one else would hear you two. You bowed your head subtly before a hand was placed right below your chin as you looked up at him confused. "Spit." He ordered, referring to the food you were chewing.

You nod your head and spit out the food that was in your mouth into his hand while he picked up the wasted food and left, then threw it all at a trash can. "Fuck." You sighed as you held your chest and slowly turned around to face the non-existent line, the group now interacting with their fans.

Just looking at them now, you were able to remember when you were the one who was there seated at the chairs shouting out the name of the person you would call as your bias, which is no other than Kim Seungmin. At least, when you still didn't take the job to be one of the group's manager. Usually, it would only take one manager to manage the group, but why did this group require another one? You questioned yourself. It was all unexplained to you, but all you gotta do was to just be glad that you get to be friends with the people you see as your role models.

"Hyunjin-ah! When did you start trading jackets with your manager?" The question came out as a shout that got everyone laughing, including the group. You were only able to chuckle knowing that it was Seungmin who convinced Hyunjin to let you borrow his jacket.

Hyunjin didn't get to answer the question, when another fan spoke from the crowd that got every fans' attention. "Are rumors true that you don't treat Manager L/n well?"

Chan furrowed his brows and picked up his microphone. "Where did you get this story?" He chuckled trying to make it sound that it wasn't true and just pure bluff. Chan looked at Hyunjin with the face that told Hyunjin that he should start treating you well if he didn't want the netizens to know about his treatment towards you. "Anyways, it's seriously not true."

-----------

A few minutes later and the event was finally finished and the group was bidding their goodbyes to their fans as they started to walk backstage. You waited for them at their waiting room with a handful of bottled waters for the boys to pick up once they get inside. The door soon opened revealing the group with a tense atmosphere following them that got you so confused. "Hey—"

"Hyunjin. If word gets out about your mistreatment to M/n, that would be a serious damage to our image and to M/n as well, 'cause he's obviously in pain because of you!" Chan yelled at the trouble causing male who only rolled his eyes paying no heed to his warning.

"Atleast, I never went too far as to really hurt him physically." Hyunjin deadpanned Chan growling at his response. Your eyes flickered to Hyunjin, then to Chan not knowing what to do in this situation.

"You are seriously being a jerk right now, Hyunjin." Chan fumed in anger while Hyunjin just continued to act deaf and played on his phone. Chan, giving up, sighed and plopped down on his seat. "Ayayay."

They took turns in getting your glances as you thought of a way to calm the atmosphere. You had already been their manager for a over a year now and this was the only time that Hyunjin ever spoke up to Chan and, to top it off, with sass and without the slightest feeling of being bothered. That was the moment you felt like you had enough. You've had enough with all these things. You were tired of yourself to even think that Hyunjin would finally soften up to you and be his friend. You were wrong to even apply for this kind of job. The group wouldn't be fighting if it hadn't been for you appearing in their lives all so suddenly. "Guys... let him do as he pleases. I'll be the one to take of whatever the netizens hear."

Chan raised his eyes up at you with furrowed brows. "What do you plan on doing? Whatever it is don't do it."

You smiled and nodded. "I won't, Chan." You held up the bottles in your hands and turned on a toothy smile. "Water? Anyone?" They all sighed in relief and got their turns in picking their own bottled water, the last one not being picked up by Hyunjin, so you decided to give it to him. You brought the cold drink to his face making him flinch as he looked up at you. "Thank you for the bread, by the way." You told him and giggled. "I've already packed your jacket in your bag." You informed him and patted his back.

The once crazily terrifying atmosphere now turned into a more comfortable one, the one you always would want to see. You didn't know what got you the courage to speak or blurt out whatever you had in your mind, but you looked at Hyunjin and said: "Hyunjin, can I talk to you privately?" Thankfully, their loud voices was able to distract themselves from hearing your request to Hyunjin who sighed and nodded his head. He stood up from his seat and started to move outside of the room. You followed behind closely, feeling intimidated by the month older's tall figure. "Hyunjin..."

"Cut to the chase, M/n. I don't have much time." He told you as you nod your head in understanding and fiddled with your fingers.

"I know, you'd probably like hearing this, but could I have the permission to quit as your group's manager?" You asked him, his forehead creasing that made him pull his brows together. "I was able to notice what the group had become the moment I became your manager—"

"And do you think quitting would change it?" Hyunjin asked you with a raised brow. "If anything, it'd probably—no, it would break their hearts to know that you quitted. If you do so, you're not only quitting as a manager, but as their friend as well."

"And you're able to say that after you purposely tried to have me fired or suspended from work by offering me that bread?" You sarcastically answered, Hyunjin clearing his throat.

"Well... that wasn't my intention. I didn't even know it'd get you fired." Hyunjin replied making you chuckle.

"Yeah..." You replied with a sad smile. "But, I don't wanna be the reason why you and Chan would always fight. Stray Kids is Stray Kids because they're fun and loving, caring. And I don't want to change that by being around the group." Hyunjin never replied anymore and you sighed. "I'm heading back now." You said and as you started to walk back inside, Hyunjin spoke.

"I wish you never entered our life, at all, M/n." He told you that got your heart broken into pieces. Sure, you admitted that he never liked you even just a bit, but him saying it so bluntly to you, it's like he does really mean it and could only care less. You were about to speak when Hyunjin beat you to it. "If so, I wouldn't be able to garner these undeniable feelings I have for you."

You froze. Were you hearing right? You just cleaned your ears this morning, well you do it everyday. Is your ear trying to play with you? "W-what?"

"DAMN! WHO WOULD'VE THOUGHT?!" You gasped with your mouth full of popcorn, your boyfriend, Hyunjin seated beside you at the movie theater. He smiled at you admiring how cute you looked with your shocked expression that was being illuminated by the big screen. "Jinnie! Look, they're gonna kiss! AH!!" As the two actors in the movie was about to kiss, one of the movie's cast bursted out of the door cutting the kiss and earned a few 'oh's and 'I hate you, Chan's. "Chan is such a cock blocker."

"Watch your mouth, babe." Hyunjin told you making you pout.

"It's true, though!" You retorted and Hyunjin could only laugh at your cuteness and honest opinions.

[familyfriendlyweed]

late night snaps (quackity x reader)

a/n : before we get into the story, i wanted to thank you all for such support on my first post - i only posted it yesterday, and got a hell lot of likes and reblogs and even gained 23 followers, which is insane for me (or maybe i just don’t know how tumblr works, haha)! anyhow, i’m really happy you guys enjoyed it <3 

 it was 02:37 and you were editing your newest video. you had no idea it would take so long, though! even if you were used to staying up very late, you knew you have to put away your laptop and go get some sleep. 

 saving the video as a draft and shutting your computer off, you started to blindly search for your phone, since your eyes didn’t get used to the darkness yet. finally finding it, you turned it on to set an alarm for the next morning when you suddenly saw a snapchat notification from ten minutes ago. it was from Alex. you curiously unlocked your phone and tapped the little notification to be led straight to snapchat.

idiota : hello mamacita

 your face instantly lit up in a childish smile. you started to type your response eagerly like it wasn’t 2 am and you didn’t have online classes tomorrow. 

 you : why hello there, el señor

 you saw Alex’s silly bitmoji pop up as he started to type.  

 idiota : what is my chica bella doing up so late?

 you giggled, getting comfortable in your bed - this meant a long chatting session on its way.

 you : YOUR chica bella? when did that happen?

 idiota : ANSWER THE QUESTION!!!! >:((((

 you : fine you big baby, i was finishing editing a new video

 idiota : hmm i see, i see

 you : what about you though? u should get some sleep!!! :(((

 Alex’s bitmoji started typing, then stopped for some reason. you lifted your eyebrow at that. then he continued, but it took a while for him to finish.

 idiota : why, i just couldn’t fall asleep when you were on my mind all the time, mi amor

 your cheeks grew red in an instant. you knew you could handle jokes pretty well, but this was quite too much. Alex never got so far as to actually flirt with you.

 you : eh??? what drugs are u on

 idiota : the only drug for me is you mamacita

 you snorted. you had no idea if he was being serious or not, even if the second option was more likely.

 you : literally go to sleep wtf

 idiota : i’d sleep better if you were by my side ;)

 this was enough for you - you felt as if you got one more message like this from him, you’d die from the hotness in your cheeks. setting your phone down, you made your way to the bathroom before bed.

 you came back five minutes later, only to see your phone full of notifications from Alex. your heart was thumping really hard, you weren’t used to this, but you opened snapchat anyway.

 idiota : mamacita?

 idiota : ....

 idiota : mamacita, don’t joke w me like that

 idiota : did you really just leave me on read wtf

 idiota : i’m sad come back :(((

 and at last, there was a snap from him. you were quite scared at this point. with a shaking hand, you opened it.

 you laughed so hard that you seriously thought you’ll have a seizure. still laughing, you snapped a selfie with a cute filter on (you really thought you looked horrible at the moment), captioned it with “your chica bella had to take a piss u simp” and sent it to Alex.

 he opened the snap almost imediatelly and started typing afterwards :

 idiota : mamacita!!!! you look hermosa!!!!

 you : that’s because i have a filter on lmaoo

 idiota : mamacita don’t let yourself down, you are so beautiful :((

 you started to text a sarcastic reply, but stopped. for some reason, Alex seemed like he was being truthful. he wasn’t joking around when he called you beautiful, that was too affectionate.

 you : ...really?

 idiota : si, si! <3

 you tugged at your lip in a thinking manner. true, you had feelings for Alex, but you never thought he had something similar to you. or maybe... maybe he was just supporting you as a friend. figuring that was probably it, you texted :

 you : thank you quacker B]] ur also v handsome

 idiota : mamacita likes me!!!!!😍😍😍

 you smiled sadly. Alex was definitely playing around. you got lost in thought for a few moments, thinking about how would he act if he was actually in love with someone. would he, perhaps, be more mature? that would be very weird to look at.

 finally coming back to planet Earth, you looked at your phone only to see that Alex has written a shit ton of messages again :

 idiota : i want to see you, mamacita

 idiota : it’s fine if u don’t want to, you’re probably going to sleep anyway...

 idiota : but maybe let’s meet tomorrow?

 idiota : mamacita?

 idiota : ....

 idiota : i’m coming over <3

 your heart gave a leap of embarassment and surprise. why would he even say that?

 you : wait what

 you : wdym “i’m coming over”

 you : no tf ur not

 you : go to sleep

 idiota : doesn’t mamacita want to see muah???

 you : no, that would be awesome, but you should go to sleep, really :(

 idiota : y/n, i already told you, i can’t sleep when you’re on my mind

 you froze in spot, staring at your screen for what felt like an eternity. did he just call you by your name? you knew he only says it in serious situations. deciding to change your tactic, you started texting seriously :

 you : are you like... for real now?

 you : because i know you call me by my name in serious situations, but maybe it’s only a prank, so just answer me truthfully, okay?

 Alex started typing, it took even longer that before, but at last you saw his message, this time without caps, spammed question/exclamation marks, nothing silly at all :

 idiota : i am serious, y/n. believe me, this is not a prank. i just really wanna see you. 

 your heart skipped a beat or two, your face renewed its redness. you felt as if you were dreaming.

 you : okay... i’m really glad. come over, please

 idiota : thank you so much

 you started pondering in your head - how did this happen? how did this silly conversation turn out like this? 

 but what if Alex texted you because he wanted to come over in the first place? after all, he knew how shitty your sleep schedule was. that would be awesome, you thought, a small smile dancing on your lips.

 you checked the snap map only to see Alex about 100 meters from you. wait... what? 100 METERS??? was Alex near your place the moment he texted you for the first time?

 you jumped up, starting to tidy up your messy room up, only to remember you look like poop at the moment - hair messy, face tired, clothes scrunched. 

 exhaling heavily, you tried to change your appearance quickly - you ran into the bathroom, brushing your hair panickily. then you wrenched the makeup bag open and started to rummage through it trying to find some mascara or something...

 ding ding! 

 you froze, your eyes widened. he was already here, what the hell?!

 you quickly put on some mascara, ran into the hallway while brushing your face with your hands from stress (completely forgetting you have mascara on, somehow) and unlocked the door.

 Alex’s figure was dark, since the lightbulb in the corridor wasn’t working, and it almost gave you a fright. but as soon as he engulfed you in a warm hug, the tension in the pit of your stomach vanished. you hugged him back almost unsurely, but smiling.

 “hello, mamacita”

 you giggled. for some reason, you got the strongest urge to cry. probably from happiness, but it still was confusing to you. nevertheless, tears started running down your cheeks, mixing with mascara, probably making you look like you were going to a halloween dress up party. 

 “hey, why are you crying?” Alex asked, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

 “i look horrible.” you laughed, wiping your tears away.

 “nooo, why won’t you listen to me? i already told you you’re beautiful.” he said with a cute pout. 

 “alright, alright, i’m very beautiful, let me down now.” you said, noticing that he was still holding you in his arms tightly. 

 “whatever the chica bella says.”

 he put you down.

 “aren’t you going to turn on some light? i feel like i’ve gone blind!” Alex exclaimed jokingly and you giggled.

 “i’m like a bat, i hate much light, sorry. buuuut i could turn on this little lamp.” you said, making your way to your desk and turning on a cute little lamp the shade of warm pink.

 “perfect.” Alex said, eyeing you in light now. you thought he’ll make a comment about your awful mascara-stained face, but he said nothing, just smiling and looking at you in awe, like you were some princess in a ball dress instead of a tired college student in messy shorts, an oversized t-shirt and two different socks, because you couldn’t find a pair of the same ones.

 “perfect.” he repeated, shrugging with a smile on his face, like seeing you was everything he needed.

 you laughed and hugged him, muttering a “thanks for coming”. Alex didn’t hesitate and also hugged you, holding you as close as possible, as if he let go of you, he’d drown and would never come back to be by your side again. 

 little did you know, he felt the exact same way.

[holdmeiamscared]

thomas hewitt x reader

in which reader realizes thomas will keep them safe.

technically part 2 to the first thomas x reader, but can also stand by itself if u don’t wanna read that one.

⚠️ : hoyt is an old nasty motherfucker, reader almost gets snatched by an escapee, warnings for blood and mild violence/gore.

there was a new tension in the house— bubbling and rising through the flooring. it made you sick to your stomach, petrified as to what your future would hold, if you even had one anymore— his family knew you were here, knew that he was keeping you.

it had started with the door creaking, an older woman peeking in at where you cowered in your nesting of blankets; wide eyed and unsure as to why exactly you were there— in his room. it hadn’t taken long for the news to spread— the sheriff, he seemed to be the one that had the most issue with you staying here, you’d heard him one night— mad as a rattler, “ya ain’t even fuckin’ it, Tommy! fresh meat, just fuckin’ wastin’ away because it was nice to you?”

thomas had come into the room that night, heaving, shoulders shaking with each heavy breath. you were, rightfully, fucking terrified of what would happen next. but it was nothing—nothing. he hadn’t touched you, opting to instead watch you for a moment, like he always did, before removing his outer layers.

after he had laid down, breathing calming back to normal, you’d crawled up on the bed next to him— resting on his chest like you had before, watching the furrow of his dark brow erase at the first brush of your forehead against his sternum, and you spoke to him quietly— desperately, “please don’t let him hurt me.”

thomas brought a red stained hand up to your face, touching you with more tenderness than a man of his size should have. his fingers moved sluggishly, brushing along the length of your jaw, across the plane of your cheeks, the curve of your nose— it was a promise. you’d be safe.

————

he’d promised you’d be safe. that’s why your panic hit an all time high when the door creaked open again. you had expected the sheriff, busting in to put a bullet in your brain, but were instead met with a young man— one you’d never seen before in your life. he looked a little worse for wear, blood dripping from an open cut in his forehead, but he spoke to you softly, hands stretched out to you, open palmed— like he was trying to convey he wouldn’t harm you, “are you hurt?”

someone was talking to you. your chest ached for freedom, but the very thought of stepping out of the comfort of this room— the safety of this room sent you scurrying backwards, head shaking rapidly, “I’m fine! I’m fine! you need to leave! you need to get the fuck out of here right now.” he didn’t listen, hand gripping tightly at your bicep, pulling you towards him, “there’s a.. a thing, with a chainsaw— you aren’t safe.”

you jerked, clawing at his hand, “let go! let go!” your voice raised in pitch, brain moving into fight or flight mode— you weren’t leaving this fucking room— it was the only place you were truly safe here. you managed to pull away from him, landing a harsh kick to his chest before launching yourself towards the bed, clamoring to get yourself away from this self righteous jackass, “get the fuck away from me!”

he followed suit, hand latching onto your ankle, before tugging you back towards him with more strength than he should have had, and you tumbled, flailing the whole way down. you hit the old wood with enough force to leave you winded, and then the stranger was hovering over you, “we have to fucking go!” he gripped at both of your forearms, attempting, again to tug you to your feet.

you weren’t sure what exactly had happened, but someone was screaming— maybe you, and then the stranger was slumping, the taste of copper in your mouth making you heave— ears ringing from the sound of a rifle. your hearing tunneled, hand scrubbing at the sticky wet that sprayed on your face, and when you zoned back, you could hear him— the sheriff, “that’s right, you son of a bitch— you break into a man’s house, and that’s what you fuckin’ get! lead in your pea-brain!”

a moment passed, with you cowering away from his gaze— dark and wandering, it made you shudder, and then feel dirty, just fucking disgusting. he was leering down at you, sick pleasure showing on every haunting feature of his face. your lungs burned, terror freezing you in place— thomas promised.

nothing was said between the two of you, but the silence passed quickly when the sheriff took a long step towards you, a look in his eyes you couldn’t quite place— your adrenaline spiked, and you screeched— loud enough your own ears rang at the noise, “thomas!” another moment of silence passed, broken by the thunderous sound of rushed footsteps treading up the stairs. he was coming. relief flooded your senses, eyes tearing up at the rush of emotion.

he loomed behind the sheriff for a moment— big and broad and panting with each breath. he moved quick for such a big man, but you had seen him move like that before— when he’d taken you. he pushed past the opposing figure, a snarl of warning low in this throat. his curious gaze eyed the newly deceased first, before kneeling in front of you— blood soaked hands moving to touch your face, to make sure you weren’t hurt.

you didn’t flinch when he touched you, instead you gripped at his big wrists, wiggling yourself closer. you didn’t care if he smelled like rot, sweat, and copper— you just wanted him to hold you. he did. without any prompting, he gripped at you—hands digging into the meat of your hips, tugging you into him, until your hands tangled in his hair, and your forehead rested on the side of his neck— safe. you were completely, and utterly safe.

thomas rumbled deep in his chest at the feeling of your hot breath rushing over his throat, and you shifted again, opting to nose at him there— hiding your face from view, until all you could see was thomas. safe. safe. safe. he was here and you were safe.

you were content to stay there for as long as possible, wrapped up tight and cozy in his arms, but you were cut short, “well ain’t that just down right precious.” a woman. the woman. the one that had told the sheriff you were here. bitterness bubbled into your throat, and you found yourself clinging tighter to thomas— him squeezing you in return, “just damn adorable. so fuckin’ precious I could puke." your eyes narrowed, the bitterness returning— you didn’t like him. you didn’t like him one bit. you removed your face from tommy’s neck to peek up at his face— he was scowling, brows furrowed, eyes darkened with an emotion that you couldn't name. you did the only thing you could think of, and you bumped your forehead against his, nose dragging along his mask— he rumbled at you again, eyes softening considerably.

your heart jumped, this was bad for you. this was so bad. so so so so bad. you liked thomas. your thoughts were cut short, "that's enough now. get your ass up, boy. you got work to do." your heart dropped to your feet— he had to leave. your gaze flitted around the room, the murdered man, the sheriff, the woman, and then back to thomas. always back to thomas. his thumbs brushed over your cheek bones, hands gripping the sides of your face, and his forehead met yours again. you sighed, low and comfortable— the moment didn't last, "I said now, boy."

you took back what thought earlier. you weren't safe if you were in this room— you were safe if thomas was there.

[saturnsstufff]

The Empress pt.XV (Final)

Warnings: death, violence, Blood

   Orion held tommy close to his chest, his hand tightly gripping to Wilbur's well he sprinted down the halls, it was up to him to see the royal children out safely. He knew you would be waiting with Athena and Sarah, you were safe, that's all he cared and worried about.

   Although his attention was mostly preoccupied with your well-being and Athena's, he knew he should have been focused on the boys. Both of them nervous and scared of what to expect. They were young, to young to understand that they were fleeing for their lives. Well, tommy was to young, Wilbur understood what it meant to be captured by the enemy, and he didn't wish it on anyone.

When they made it to the catacombs, tommy gripped to the Enderian’s uniform. Scared of the pitch black, he shook gently within Orion's arms, with soft words of encouragement Orion pushed into the darkness, trying to sense for where you were. The deeper they went, the colder it became, showing they had descended deep into the earth. Wilbur had never been to this part of the palace, he didn't even know it existed to be honest. All he could do was trust in Orion and that they would be ok.

Well running the twisting halls of the catacombs, the one thing Orion didn't think he would hear was Athena’s crying. But sure enough when he passed a crossway, he herd her innocent cry- a cry of danger.

“i..is that...” Wilbur whispered, unsure if he was hearing it correctly. Orion pressed down his slight panic, making a tight turn to the sound. strictly relying on her crying he weaved his way to a empty room, a few chest’s were littered about, but the crying was awfully loud from one in particular.

to Orion’s horror, when he opened the chest Athena was within it, wrapped tightly within her blankets. This brought horror to Orion because he knew you would never just leave her during a evacuation. Something was wrong, and then it hit him- you hid her from danger.

“O...Orion sir?...” Wilbur asked hesitantly.  “W..where is (y/n)?”

Sarah had the intention to kill you, that was easy enough to see. the sheer anger she struck down with was lethal- you should have died- you did die. The sword tried to go straight through your skull, it should have.

Yet, it didn't even leave a mark.

Technoblade was no fool, if he was going to have a wife, he was going to protect her with every fiber of his being. He swore upon the alter you were his to protect, to love, to cherish, and he meant, and intended to see every swear through until the end, maybe even beyond.

When techno made your engagement ring, he experimented, and discovered rings and jewelry could hold enchantments. Without much thought he gave you a ring with Protection IV. Of course after returning to his office he thought a while on this. If a simple Enchantment could be engraved onto a ring, and totems could be melted down into jewelry, and still hold their reviving properties. Then who was to say you couldn’t combine the two?

 He wanted something that could guarantee your safety regardless of if he was present or not. Thus he went to your forge by himself. The topic at hand wasn't information he was willing to share with a single soul. If it was possible, your safety would be guaranteed for eternity. 

The Wedding ring he gave you- upon first glance you would assume it was a Netherite ring with simple enchantments. Something that shown wealth, and commitment. But this was a mask. Your ring was made of a Totem of undying coated in Netherite. A simple action most women had done to their rings, was coat them in gold or silver, so why not Netherite? The enchantments placed on said ring was as fallowed, Curse of Binding, and Protection IV. It was all he could think of at the time, but his thought process was entirely out of the box. If you had removed your Engagement ring for a unknown reason, your wedding ring would always remain on your finger with Curse of binding, allowing protection from obscure things, or possible people, but most importantly you would always be protected from death.

So when Sarah had tried to kill you with her sword, it simply shattered over your head.

Sarah had the look of shock and terror- and well, she should have.

You see, what she had forgotten, was how close everyone was to escaping. Technoblade, Foolish and Phil were not far behind you all. they simply stayed as the last group incase of combat. When your eyes met hers, she almost felt her legs give out. you were not the terrifying thing she feared. She feared the pissed off Piglin Brute who towered over your small body.

Within the last moments of the blade crashing down to your skull, Technoblade had cleared the doorway. Not only witnessing the totem saving you- but witnessing his friend- his general- killing his wife.

Techno saw red, the voices also saw red, and where techno could have been right about her death, make it swift and quick, the voices screamed, and thrashed to tear her apart, limb by limb...

When Orion and company stepped behind tech, they knew there was nothing they could possibly due to stop the monster unleashed. Before your eyes, or the children could see or hear anything gruesome, Foolish pulled you away from Sarah, shielding you from the graphic scene. Phil similarly held Tommy and Wilbur close to his chest, refusing to show them the death of Sarah. the only one who stayed content within their peace was Athena, to young to even grasp the concept of what was occurring, although Sarah’s last screaming cry was loud and bloodcurdling, all Athena let out was a yawn and short cry. Nothing severe however.

When techno had finished his rampage, she was unrecognizable. Blood dripped from his sword Like thick wine after a long deserved victory. She would have no grave, yet it seemed fitting, for someone who was twisted enough to deceive those who trusted her most, this was her resting glory. Empty hall’s filled with bones and discarded armor. Nothing fit truly for a honorable general.

Foolish refused to let you go, instead Orion rested Athena back within your arms. Foolish and Orion acting as your protectors, it was easy to see Techno was still within his blood-filled rage. Something Phil and Foolish were all too familiar with. He looked terrible, and horrific, blood covered his righteous military uniform, painting him a dog of war rather than a Emperor.

It looked nothing like the man you fell in love with. Yet there was something human about him, although covered in the blood of his enemy, he shed tears of pain and betrayal.

With soft steps, you pried yourself and your daughter from Foolish’s grasp. Carefully stepping up to your lost lover, you took his blood stained cheek into your hand. A lamb within the step of a lion. At first his looked at you with blood-lust, seeing you as another target to demolish- but the voices, the voices caught your soft tone. the tone you used when hushing “I love you” to him late at night. It was a often tone used, but after so long at war, he didn't realize how much he missed it, how much he missed you.

His eyes darted over your face, searching for any sign of disgust or terror he should have caused you. but instead he just saw your gentle eyes, his eyes flashed to Athena, wanting to just hold his daughter. But that time was not now, they had taken to long. running foot-steps, and distant explosions could be herd echoing from down the halls. They were coming.

“Darling... Technoblade, we need to leave...”

Leaving the palace was hard, physically and mentally. This was somewhere all of you had planned to grow old within, the intricate and detailed walls lining with generations, and untold secrets, it was now somewhere you could never return to. 

At the end of the catacombs lied a few planes, enough for a escape. Techno quickly took your hand and helped you into the plane, assuring you and Thena were safe. Similarly, Phil and Foolish took the other, resting tommy on Foolish’s lap for safety. Orion and Wilbur took the remaining plane, knowing Wilbur would fit alone in a seat.

Without a place in mind you all took off, all of you sticking close. The fly by the empire made you all sick. not only had the city been set completely ablaze, the palace must have had dynamite within the walls, all of you watched helplessly as the glorious palace was blown apart. large parts of it crumbling due to the damage. You couldn't help the tears that flooded your eyes. Not only were your people practically dead, your home was taken to the ground.

You were all alone.

Techno must have herd your crying, because his head turned back to you. His heart ached at the sight of you. Your head was down, sobbing over your sleeping child. Not long ago he remembered bringing to the empire. A place he was naïve enough to believe in, a place he thought you all would be safe. You were wrapped up so sweetly within his cloak back then, only sweethearts crushing on each other, and now you all were fleeing for your life. there was just so much within such a short period. Although your last moments within the palace were spent arguing, he didn't care, he cared that you, and his family were safe. 

Out of the corner of your eye you saw techno’s hand reach back for you, with a shaky hand you took it. Intertwining your fingers tightly, warmly accepting any form of comfort. Well holding Athena close to your chest, Techno would always remember this moment. The moment you were left hopeless.

Foolish ended up taking you all back to his “summer home” as he called it, finding it the safest bet. Although you all were weary for fallowing planes or men, you all were extremely tired, and in need of sleep. 

Techno and you both knew there was a lot to discuss, almost too much for one night. But you both didn't want to linger on much longer without addressing everything. Similarly, like before the war, you found yourselves crawling into a shared bath. Athena was a giggling mess, playing with the bubbles well she sat on your lap. Techno was sitting in front of you both, his eyes hurting and on the verge of tears. His long hair was tangled and in a dire need of combing, yet you knew what he wanted.

“Do you want to hold her?...” You asked softly. almost as if watching him crumble, he broke into tears, no longer able to hold it together. You were gentle with handing her over, his large war-worn hands contrasted greatly against her soft baby skin. yet as if she knew it was her dad, she reached up for his face her attention focused completely on him, her tiny hand was trying to grab to anything, finally grabbing his hair.

“S...S-she’s mine... S-...S-she’s ours...” He said through sobs, trying not to think about everything he missed. Truthfully Techno felt horrible, he didn't ever want to miss something as important as his child’s birth. 

You didn't disturb them, instead you watched your tired husband, his tears falling and hitting the water well he rested Thena on his chest. This was something he wanted- something he needed.

You weren't sure how long it was, but you didn't care, Techno held Athena for a long while, so long the water grew cold. When Athena finally fell asleep you let Tech put her to bed, A small cradle within the room you occupied was her bed for the night.

Tech didn't dress however, instead you both filled the tub again. Both of you cuddling close to each other, desperate to just feel skin on skin form each other. You were laying on Techno’s chest, his hand lazily running across your back. he moved to brush some hair aside, but he felt you recoil. Slight confusion laced his face until you spoke.

“please don't touch my neck...” He didn't understand, but he let you finish. “when you stomped into the room with your sword... you grabbed my neck... Please... I love you... But don't...” A wash of shame covered his face. 

“I.. I did... Didn't I...” He said, realizing that he did raise his hands to you in a act of violence. The silence of the moment lingered a bit before he spoke again. “I... I know sorry wont fix it... I don't want you to Accept it either... I was terrible to you... Not only did I almost hurt you, I left you when you needed me most... Sarah she-” You tapped his chest as a way to softly cut him off.

“Sarah deceived you... She forged letters... She admitted to it before trying to kill me...” Techno gave a sight squeeze, a attempt to hold you closer. “She thought she could win the war if she kept you on the battlefield longer... Through that she thought the answer lied within our letters.” Your head rubbed on his chest a bit, the day was slowly flooding back to you. 

Well thinking about your day the thing that you were most curious about, was how you lived. Your voice was quiet well asking him, unsure if he knew himself, but of course he knew. “Your wedding ring was made of a Totem... I made it for you as a precaution...” he Explained. Your eyes glanced to your hand, Tears forming slowly as you realized you lost your wedding ring within the struggle. “The only Problem... Is if it was used... It would break...” His lips moved and rested on your forehead. pressing a soft kiss to it. “Princess... My darling... my love... I promise I’ll make you a new one... Only if you want me too of course...” You nodded fast, gripping to him like a child.  

Techno knew, it would take time for everything to heal, everything you went through wouldn't heal over night, his only hope was that you knew he was still there for you. Yes, the trust between you both was broken, but it wasn't lost. He was determined to win your trust back, he just had to. you were his wife, his Empress.

You all didn't stay long at Foolish’s Summer home. After accessing the moment you all concluded it would be best to move on in life. Orion opted to stay with Foolish, suggesting it was the best option incase you all were fallowed. It pained you to say goodbye to Orion, but somehow you knew it wouldn't be forever. Phil took the boys Towards some woodlands, seeing as it would be better to raise them in the woods rather than a tundra. Saying goodbye to Wilbur was hard too, he was your first friend at the empire, and now you all were closing that chapter, putting it all behind you as a faint memory.

Of course, you all knew you would write to each other, but that didn't soothe the pain fully. 

Techno took you and Thena to some Nearby tundra, not able to say goodbye to the snow fully, There you two build a small cozy cottage, somewhere you both could call home, somewhere where no one could find you three. 

Your crowns were hung above the mantle, a decorative item that you would pass off as casual trinkets. Your Daughter, now a toddler, found great amusement out of them, always asking about them. You never told her the true story behind them, instead you said it as a bedtime story. Something she must have known by heart too. Anytime you would sit to tell her, she would beat you too it, always saying.

“Have you herd of the Antarctic Empire?”

Thank you so much for fallowing though and reading this!! I never expected this to blow up like it did!

If you fallowed strictly for the empress then i wish you off!! Thank you for stopping by my corner!!

I will answer any questions about the story!! and i promise i wont put ": )" now

-Saturn

@goldensunshineshit @snobunns @olyink @lolitsellieletsgobro @jackalopedoodles @angelic-scent @coolleviauchihadreamerlove @artsimatsu @justabalroginthenet @seme1e @fangirl570 @sweeetteaa @awlawdtheycoming @idkwhatusernametohave @sugarandspicebutnonice @bambibunz @lynnarts @buzzybeebee @feathersthewinged @prefesro @astroninaaa @ravennightingaleandavatempus @lifestylesleep @straydog265 @happygalaxymilkshake @vixenfoxpup @truthdaze @alovestruck-fool @luluwinchester @thegeekisheere @blissebee @chxrrymilkshake @karinsnightmareparty @udontneedtokno @remy-and-co @rad-influence @victory-is-here @archangel997 @lunna-does-real-doodle @deadroses2021 @dominickle @alien-alibii @cryptoidmc @justthatfangirloverthere @itscaity-c @glowstick-cafe @caliginous-skies @k-l-a-w-s @theawkwardspork @fallxnly

[huenjin]

083. “stay there. i'm coming to get you.”

♡ pairing: hyunjin x reader ♡ genre: angst, fluff, suggestive ♡ word count: 1,980 words ♡ note: based off this fic in my archive that'll never see the light ever again. also, this is a thank you note for the 3k <3 thank you so much.

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you sit in your bedroom, looking out through the window. you hear the gentle tapping of raindrops against your bedroom window. seeing the drops trickle down your window brings a sense of calmness within yourself.

there is a laziness about the rain drops, as if they can barely be bothered to conform to the will of gravity. your eyes are transfixed on them till they snap back on to your phone, that had been placed on the table beside sheets filled with your designs for clothes.

hyunjin is calling and your face lights up as if this was normal. your feelings for this man are in your head as you pick up the call.

“y/n,” his voice echoes in the background of sounds of rain drops hitting the ground.

“hyunjin,” your voice fails to hide your joy.

“can you come over? i'm in your neighborhood park.” his voice is distraught and he sounds hopeless. your heart aches a bit and your eyes widen as you realise, your hand clutching your chest in shock.

“it's raining heavily, hyunjin. what are you doing outside?”

“please,” he begs. you are worried and you find your worry set in quicker than ever before. you push your chair back and stand up, tying your hair up in a messy bun and putting on a washed out hoodie over your yoga pants.

"stay there. i'm coming to get you."

you pull the black hood over your saturated form as you saunter in the heavy rain towards the park, hard pellets of water spitting on your hands as the remainder of the drops quench the scattered puddles, filling it in completely very quickly, decorating the asphalt.

it is the silence and emptiness of the park and the sound of raindrops hitting the ground that makes you observe keenly and when you do this, you notice hyunjin sitting on the bench.

hyunjin has his head in his hand as water drips from his head to the ground. he seems like he is in pain, like he just needs a person to comfort him. hyunjin looks terrified. you rush to his side and place your hand on his shoulder.

hyunjin’s eyes look empty, like he is missing a major fragment of his soul, momentarily.

rain and tears mingle on his face, salty tracks blending into the fresh sky-fallen trickles. only the pink of his eyes and the loss of happy stars beneath them give any clue to his sadness and in this city who will look closely enough to tell.

“hyunjin?”

he crashes into your body, his arms wrapping themselves around your tiny frame. your hood falls off your head and the raindrops hit your head instantly. you are not given time to react because his face digs into your collar bone and he stays still in the warmth your body emits in this cold surroundings.

“hyunjin,” you mumble against his wet hair and you hear only a sob in response.

you have heard hyunjin break down into tears before, but never have you seen it. the sight before you is a broken greek artwork, so raw and so pure. you hold hyunjin close to you, rubbing his back soothingly till he calms down.

“do you want to talk about it?” you whisper into him and he shakes his head against the suggestion. you mumble an okay and hold him closer as he sobs into you.

you wonder if hyunjin feels like you when you cry out loud. constricted and suffocated. you lose your breath quickly and you're gasping for air every time you cry. however, what makes you hate crying further is the ache it brings you within. your head turns dizzy and you want to stop feeling asphyxiated yet you can't.

hyunjin’s grip on your hoodie is as strong as iron and you give him time. you give him time to calm himself whilst you only hope that your presence gives him the comfort he needs, as you rub small circles into his back.

and when he calms down and pulls back, you smile at him warmly. you run a hand to move the wet hair strands from the side of your face. hyunjin stares at you for so long that you wonder what he is thinking.

hyunjin’s hand lifts up and reaches out for the edge of your face. his other arm snakes around your waist and pulls you closer, your thighs brushing against his. his fingers trace your jaw before holding them.

“hyunjin,” you gulp dryly and wonder what is even going on in his head. he holds your face so delicately and looks at you with an expression that makes you crave for him more than you already do. he leans forward and your lip part instinctively. the two of you are in your space in a huge bubble in the middle of a world with the skies pouring down upon the two of you.

he kisses the droplets of rain from your lips. you smile against his lips and you find the stars beneath his eyes again, dull but persistent to glow. he sweeps your wet hair aside and kisses you just over the collarbone. he nibbles at your ear, and then sinks himself into your arms. you hang your fingers on his waistband, dragging him closer. you bury your face in his shoulder curve, his hands flexing around your back.

hyunjin gives a reduced groan, “i think i love you,” into your hair. “the happiest moments that i actually remember being in a long while are with you. you make me feel whole again. even in my failures.” there is a chortle as he says failures and you wonder what has truly happened.

his grip on your face is hard and you sigh in content. the rain pours heavier and you feel the heaviness of the cold hitting you eventually.

“we should go back home,” you tell him and he nods. you stand up and extend your arm out for hyunjin to hold. he looks at it, his expression softening as he enlaces his fingers with yours.

“okay,” he stands up, his eyes gazing at the entwined hands with an affection you loved seeing on him. hyunjin is not his usual cheery self yet but you are content that he perhaps does not feel suffocated anymore.

you are, after all, only hoping to be a warm spring breeze in his misery.

the difference in the temperature hits you as soon as you step into the comfort of your home. hyunjin stands next to you and is shivering. he hugs himself to provide some warmth and a small smile plays on your lips.

you take hold of his wrist, dragging him to your room and making him sit on your bed.

“wait here. i'll get you a towel to dry up and dry clothes,” you smile and pause for a second to make sure hyunjin doesn't roam around before you leave your room to grab a towel for him.

when you come back with one of your brother's dry clothes in one arm and a towel in another, you find a shirtless hyunjin hovering over the rough sketches you have designed. you quickly rush to his side and take the sheets away after throwing the towel at him.

“i told you to stay put,” you pout, slightly annoyed.

“well, technically, you didn't,” he cheekily says and shrugs. “moreover you have nothing to be embarrassed about. those designs are beautiful.”

your cheeks stain red and you are unsure whether it's over hyunjin standing before you shirtless as he towers over you thanks to the height difference or if it's because of the sudden compliment over your designs.

you click your tongue and pull hyunjin who is holding the towel towards the bed after placing your sheets on the table again. your hands are on his pectoral muscles and you shove at them lightly, hinting at him to sit down.

you drop the clothes on the bed beside hyunjin and take the soft towel from his hand. you smile at hyunjin and run your fingers through his wet hair, ruffling it to see how much water is there.

“do you want to talk about what the breakdown was about?”

you softly collect strands of his hair right above his nape and gently squeeze the extra water from his hair. he laughs alluringly, his head moving back as you tug at his hair.

“i got rejected by the publishing company again,” he says, his tone defeated and disappointed. “i don't think i should write.”

you grab a section of his dark locks and gently blot and squeeze it with the towel, working from the roots to the tips. you speak as you dry his hair, “doesn't writing make you happy?”

“it does,” he mumbles. “it makes me feel alive.”

“then, you shouldn't give up. that's what i learnt. you know why? because that is you. you found myself in that and that makes you happy.”

hyunjin’s eyes are raised to look at you as you keep blotting and squeezing the water from his hair. his hands are on your waist and his lips curve up.

“you are inspiring,” he says and you laugh.

“If i were, i wouldn't be jobless and broke. at least, i got the failure part before any success story right.”

you sneeze suddenly, laughing it away. however, hyunjin’s expression turns instantly into that of concern. he tugs at your waist and pulls you into him. your hand is firm on the towel gripping at his roots and your eyes widen.

“what do you think you are doing, sire?”

“sit on my lap,” he suggests.

“and,” you poke around further to see what he was plotting. hyunjin wouldn't say a word further though till you sat on his lap. you click your tongue and raise an eyebrow at him.

much to his compliance, you sit on his left thigh, still drying his hair. hyunjin pulls the towel from your hand and you whine.

“your turn,” he chirps and you laugh, your cheeks rising with your lips. he places the towel over your head and dries your hair. you can't hold back your laughter and hyunjin complains, begging you to stop and let him dry your hair.

“you're cute.”

“i'm more than just cute, y/n,” hyunjin teases. “you should probably remove your hoodie.”

your eyebrows furrow together before they are raised and you question hyunjin’s words. he shifts back slightly, offended by your distrust, “you'll catch a cold. you should grab a new pair of clothes. i'm just concerned.”

“really?” your syllables extend.

“i mean, it’s a win-win for you and i,” he laughs and you hit his chest jokingly.

“cheeky.”

“or,” hyunjin says with a huge smirk plastered on his face that you wonder yet again what thought has been planted in his head. “i could just remove it for you.”

he lifts you up with his hand tight on your waist. within a second, you're on your back against your bed and hyunjin hovering over your body. you are giggling and hyunjin is smiling widely.

“why did i know this was going to turn out like this?”

“y/n, baby,” he says. “live by the sun and love by the moon.”

hyunjin eases you and you move to his rhythm and his plans instantly. his mouth lingers over the skin at your neck, licking at it until he decides to nibble at it, leaving delectable kisses down your neck. he lifts his head momentarily only to kiss your lips and wink at you, stating the most literally fluent statement you have heard from hyunjin, exhibiting the writer within.

“i'm going to paint your skin purple tonight and make love to you.”

and all you do in response is blush and whimper under him.

[verryberriess]

Whatever This Is | Chapter 1

READ PROLOGUE HERE!!

Whatever This Is

Synopsis: In which Jude and Cardan meet again after seven years, but not on good terms.

thanks to @maastrash for helping me edit LOL!!!! :D

CHAPTER ONE

The last time I saw Cardan Greenbriar was seven years ago.

Today, seven years later, we were a mere few feet apart. I’m unsure whether to feel relieved or insulted at his lack of acknowledgement. Relieved that maybe he has forgotten my face and I could continue along with my life, undeterred and unaffected as ever. But insulted, because, maybe he has forgotten me.

“Are you ready to order?” The cashier startles me. I didn’t realize that the line had suddenly quickened in pace. He must be new, since I haven’t seen him around the Torre’s until today.

Thankfully, I respond with my usual order without thinking. The cashier nods and I fumble my purse in search of my wallet. I’m able to quickly spot my cyan-colored wallet and unbutton its strap with haste, fishing for my credit card from the compartment with my nail. The card is stubborn, in a tight space stuck to two other cards.

“Sorry,” I look up and flash the cashier a tight smile, embarrassment coloring my features.

The cashier responds in turn, his green eyes alight in amusement. “It’s alright. That happens to me all the time.”

I immediately return to the war against my card, which finally relents. I slam it into the card reader, chip in first. While the payment approves, I smile and say, “Thanks for your patience,“ peering down at his name tag to add, “Beckett.” He is handsome and new, and on another day I would try to get to know him, but I am in a hurry, so I walk from the bounds of the register and head straight towards the door outside.

The door swings open in response to my adrenaline and haste. I curse inwardly at the crowd outside of Torre’s that seems to have gotten even bigger. As I mutter “Excuse me’s” and sidestep around the large number of people, I inspect the streets for an absurdly tall head of iridescent midnight hair. I am quickly astonished to see that exact head right in the middle of the large crowd, showering the thrall of excited women with a crooked smile.

Cardan stands in the middle. While he keeps his hands at his sides, his posture is loose and his torso leans in to angle himself for a selfie with another woman. The woman presses her back into Cardan’s again. He doesn’t seem bothered by this at all.

I zero in on the changes in his features. He has gotten taller, his face more angular. His style has been perfected, dressed in a dark suit and decorated in gold rings and darks and blacks while the midnight black hair atop his head seems unruly and untamed, as if on purpose. All these years and he seems to have perfected perfection, looking more horrifically beautiful than ever. I have forgotten this obtrusive charm I had once been fooled by, and even after all these years I am disgusted at myself for still being reigned in, captivated.

But all of a sudden, for a few seconds, he turns his head away from his surroundings and regards me with his eyes, looking as if he were noting my presence with the same disgust, and then quickly looking away. The exchange was so quick, I had barely registered it.

Yet, as I stand at the outskirts of this group, I am reminded of the past, and how I have gotten over this already. I have replayed scenario after scenario of reunions in my head after the first few months of my departure, but I had never really anticipated some overly-large crowd separating Cardan Greenbriar and I by just a few feet.

A few feet that might as well be an ocean. Or two.

I can’t help but marvel at how we were once more than acquainted with each other. That look had reminded me that everything is over, that he wants nothing to do with me. Seven years could be more, if I refocused myself. I could do that, I reminded myself. Seven years could turn into forever.

A twinge of sorrow worms its way into my gut. I squash it.

I turn around. My coffee must be done by now and I want to head to work before I’m late. I suppose the sidewalk will take some weaving around and being late was not on my agenda.

My steps are forward. I make my way back to the door of Torre’s, pulling open the door to step in.

But a familiar voice, ringed with the same distinct tone of arrogance and authority that I haven’t heard in years, ceases any of my movements.

“You need to back up.”

My grip at the handle falters, and another person shuffles out on the other side. They thank me for holding the door for them.

Instead of responding, I turn back around and face the direction of where the voice had called. The atmosphere feels almost different. Where the women had once been gathered around him, they now stand at a distance, clearing for the space he had requested.

I watch one of them snap a quick selfie while he is in her background. She leaves the group right afterwards. My eyes move back to where Cardan is, but he is walking towards my direction, uncaring of the people around him.

I pull the door handle hurriedly and slip inside into the safety of Torre’s. The chatter and ambiance of the coffeehouse usually offer safe haven from San Francisco’s morning bustles, but not today.

I could feel his looming presence right behind me, about to catch up to my stride. I’m not about to do this right now. I don’t think I can.

The choice is ripped away from me, however, when a gentle grip takes hold of my wrist.

“Jude?” The voice is soft, a complete one-eighty from that of authority outside.

I still immediately. I first turn to check the surroundings, discovering that none of the women from outside have followed him in. Then, I glance at the hand which still grips my wrist. I try to shake it off. Cardan’s hold is firm, but he reluctantly lets go. He removes himself slowly as if he is unsure whether or not he should.

Taking a step away, he stands and shifts awkwardly. He is too tall now, absurdly towering over me. Where he used to be only about an inch taller, he is now a few inches above my height. He is no longer able to slouch against me without adjusting himself as easily anymore.

The distance between us is off-putting. Though traits like his height and broadness separate us physically from our past selves, it is the other changes in our approaches and personalities that further highlight the obnoxious tension between us.

Why he suddenly acknowledges my presence is a mystery to me. Why he is here astonishes me. I am unsure if fate is cruel enough to have forced us to meet in this kind of circumstance, or if this was a making of pure coincidence.

Cardan stares at me with some deep intensity. I want to be rid of his scathing stare, grab my coffee, and disappear from this whole ordeal. Pretend that this stain of an encounter had not been inked upon seven years of spotless script.

“Cardan,” I say stiffly. Once acquainted, but now strangers. I am hesitant to say more, despite all the questions that rage within my mind and my wickedly cursed heart. Everything about this is full of uncertainty and unpredictability. A type of situation that I am not entirely familiarized with, since plans and strategy have always ruled my life. It is frustratingly tiresome.

Cardan eyes the row of occupied couches, and later the arrangement of empty rustic tables and chairs. He gestures out to the seats, “Why don’t we find a seat? I imagine that we have much to catch up on.”

I secretly consider his offer, but my brain votes to think of ways to escape his reach. Before I can make a decision though, I am led away to an open table. I am reluctant to make this encounter any longer than it should be, but I decide that I should at least gain some reasoning for his recent presence.

“I’m glad you’re so eager to see me again. After all, it’s been so long.” Cardan resumes his usual nonchalant character. “What an extraordinary coincidence running into you here.”

For a moment, I remark on his wording. I am glad that this turned out to be an occasion of pure coincidence.

Concern or indifference? I decided on the latter tone to respond with. “Yes, it certainly has been a while. But considering how we left things, I’m surprised that you even want to be near me.”

He raises an eyebrow and the corners of his mouth lift slightly. “Considering how we’ve left things, I’m surprised you’ve let me into your vicinity.” It doesn’t look like it, but the small twinges in expression reveal that he is thinking of what to say next. I am about to retort back, but what he asks next catches me off guard as he continues, softly, “Why did you leave for so long?”

My cheeks heat. At this, I am suddenly hyper aware of how close he is, of his overwhelming heat despite the violent cold that rages outside, and how he almost whispers his question, with a compelling mix of rasp and seduction. He towers over me, as if using his height to shield me from the world like he has done so many times those years ago, but in this instance, it feels as though he is also looking for something. Cardan is cautious though, leaving room for retreat.

If I am not careful myself, I imagine that I would fall into his chest, and take advantage of the closeness that I had secretly yearned for nearly a decade. Seven years be damned, my focused mentality would dissolve into dust.

I announce my resolve by taking a step back. The distance between him and I is lengthened. Although my heart curses at me, my mind is indiscriminate. I hadn’t expected this conversation to go about this way. Though, I also didn’t know what to expect. Everything was unpredictable at this point and many things have changed. I didn’t know what response he wanted, because he should’ve known why I left.

“... Because of you.” I say gruffly. I leave little context, wanting him to fill in the blanks.

For a second, a mixture of hurt and surprise leaks into his expression before it is masked again. In that second I can’t help but relish in a small sense of satisfaction that I had got to him. Hurt for hurt. An eye for an eye. Whatever game he is trying to play at this time will not rouse a fraction of feeling from me. Not again.

“I see.” Again, Cardan contemplates. He does not show anything, but his eyes start to roam around us, like he is taking in the coffeehouse setting again as if he wasn’t just here only a few moments ago.

“Excuse me?” The green-eyed cashier from before stands in front of us.

He looks between Cardan and I. Cardan, in turn, twists to the direction of the abrupt voice, and slowly assesses his form. I watch his eyes trail up and down the cashier’s physique, his face contorting in judgement before glaring at him, clearly annoyed by his abrupt intrusion.

Beckett turns to me instead, smiling brightly. His dimples deepen and his white teeth flash to me. He holds out a branded cup of Torre’s. “Hey, Jude right? We called out your name earlier, but I don’t think you heard us. I thought I’d bring your coffee to you before it got cold.”

“Thanks so much, I almost forgot.” I take the cup from him and gently set it down at our table.

“Of course.” Beckett still hovers over us, his attention only towards me. “Andrea told me you were a regular here. I should have known.”

“Yes, I come here often. But it’s okay, I noticed that you’re new here too. And it’s Beckett right?” I ask.

Beckett replies, “Yeah, it’s actually my second day.”

Beckett hovers over us. I notice that he is handsome, with close-cropped blonde hair that is slightly grown out. His green eyes twinkle as he observes me in return. He is well-muscled and tan from what I could see of his arms, which are mostly covered by his gray, long-sleeved uniform.

I take a quick glance at Cardan. His fingers tap the tabletop in a particular rhythm as he watches the exchange between Beckett and I.

“Well, I better get back to work now. If you need anything else, check your cup.” Beckett smiles again and walks away.

I look back at the coffee cup and peer at Cardan who eyes its side, a murderous expression set upon his facial features. His eyes are cold and his jaw is clenched.

As I take the cup in my hands, I inspect the sticker attached to the side of the cup. A phone number written in scrawly blue ink is scribbled onto the light orange sticker.

“​​I didn’t realize hand-serving customers was a part of the job description.” Cardan remarks icily.

“Well,” I clear my throat. “At least he’s done something you didn't have the balls to do seven years ago.”

A/N: i haven't been here in a while... hello! let me know if you want to be put on the tag list lOL

[chaoticpuff17]

Suga We’re Going Down

Part 4

Masterlist

Y/N stared at the lawyers. Everything they said went straight over her head though it didn’t seem to bother Yoongi. They were his layers after all. They’d probably already gone over the contract with him in detail, something Y/N did not have the advantage of doing. She just didn’t have the time or the money to hire her own lawyers to look over it.

It felt odd going over a contract for what would essentially be a relationship. It felt clinical, but in a way that was good. She wanted that professional distance. This wasn’t romantic. They weren’t dating. She wanted, needed, that line firmly drawn in the sand. This was not a forever situation.

Thankfully, the lawyers were patient with her, answering all of her hesitant questions, making notes if she wanted something changed. Yoongi seemed to find it cute. Every time the lawyers looked at him to confirm a change, he would nod, the barest hint of a smile pulling at his lips. He was surprisingly gracious about it all. He agreed to every slight change to the contract she wanted to make.

“Now, Mr. Min will be providing a car and driver for your transportation.”

“That really isn’t necessary…”

“It’s non-negotiable.” Yoongi interrupted leveling the lawyers with a hard glare. He wanted her to be safe, and a driver would help with that. It would also provide him with access to her 24/7.

“Of course, Mr. Min.” The lawyer nodded. “There is also the wardrobe budget that Mr. Min will be providing.”

She was about to protest that as well, but Yoongi beat her to it. “Also non-negotiable.”

The lawyer nodded humming in understanding. “And the amount of times per week is alright with the both of you? Three times a week with other meetings interspersed as requested and can be accomodated by Miss Kang given her schedule?”

They both nodded.

“I’m sorry,” She interrupted softly. “It’d like it to be in there that my home is off limits for meetings. I’m willing to meet him wherever he would like, but I’d like to keep my home, well, mine. If that would be alright.” The last bit was added on as a rushed after thought her eyes wide as she looked from Yoongi to the lawyers.

The lawyers looked to Yoongi who nodded. “I’m fine with that.”

“Excellent.” The man smiled making a note on the contract. “There is something else we need to discuss.” Both Y/N and Yoongi turned to look at him attentively. “We need to establish the boundaries of your more… intimate relations.” The man informed them looking vaguely uncomfortable.

Yoongi perked up, but Y/N shrunk back in her seat feeling suddenly very small. She knew they had to discuss it, but that didn’t make it any less awkward for her.

She looked to Yoongi waiting for him to speak, waiting to see what was expected for her.

Just as her eyes were fixed on him, his were fixed on her, assessing, calculating. Of course Yoongi planned to have her in every way, but he needed to know how far he could push her and how quickly. If he went too far too fast, he could lose her entirely. She was a cautious creature. One wrong move on his part and she would bolt.

He had to suppress a grin watching how serious her eyes were, the way her hands trembled slightly. The poor thing. She looked out of her depth. She was, of course, but she would never know just how far out of her depth she was. Yoongi had everything drafted up perfectly. None of her requests interfered with his plans. They were reasonable requests from a reasonable girl. Allowances for school. Keeping her home a safe space. He could let her have her space for now, until she was more comfortable with him. Besides, he planned on spending most of their time together in his own home.

“Nothing weird?” She requested fidgeting uncomfortably and refusing to make eye contact.

“Weird?” He asked quirking a brow curiously.

“Like…” Her tone was unsure and her eyes wide. A blush made its way up her neck and stained her cheeks red as well. “Oh God…I… I honestly don’t know…”

Realization come over Yoongi leaving him stunned for a moment, before a deep sense of satisfaction took its place. She was a virgin. His sweet little muse was untouched just for him as if she couldn’t get any more perfect. No wonder she was so uncomfortable, the poor thing.

She wouldn’t have to be for long though. No one else would ever touch her. He would make sure of that. She was his sweet muse, untouched by the world, and he was going to keep her by his side no matter what. He knew the transition would be a little uncomfortable, but he was willing to help her through that if it meant having her by his side.

“We won’t do anything you’re not comfortable with.” He assured her finding her panic cute.

“But you would be open to a sexual relationship?” One of the lawyers asked, pen held at the ready to make the necessary changed.

“Yes.” She had to hold back her cringe as the word left her. She hoped Halmeoni could forgive her for this. She hoped she could forgive herself.

“Then you would be fine with confirming birth control? Mr. Min is willing to pay for whichever method of contraceptive you choose to use.”

“That’s fine as well.” She murmured too embarrassed to meet anyone’s eye. She felt all of two inches tall. How could everyone else treat this like it was normal? It was all so foreign to her, but hey were completely un-phased.

“Excellent. Could you sign here?” He asked sliding the contract over to her, along with a pen. “That should be it on our end. We’ve already discussed the rules of this arrangement and the payment has already been decided. We should be ready to proceed unless you want to add anything else?”

“No.” She couldn’t help the way her fingers trembled a she reached for the pen, but she signed her name and placed her stamp never the less.

Yoongi signed and stamped after her before turning to face her with a gummy grin.

“I guess it’s official now.”

“I guess so.” Her own smile was much less enthusiastic. It was actually quite weak. She just couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d signed her soul to the devil.

“Let me take you to dinner.” He offered standing from his seat.

She shook her head standing as well. “I can’t. I have other things to do today. Besides, it’s too early for dinner.” She shot him a shaky smile hoping to smooth over her refusal though the deadpan expression on his face wasn’t giving her much hope that she’d succeeded.

“Come on.” He placed a hand on her back and began ushering her out of the room despite her stuttered protests.

“Yoongi.”

“It’s one meal. A celebration of our new contract.” He loved the way her face scrunched up in concern as she thought it over. “We’ll do it eventually. Why not start now?” He shrugged gently placing her coat over her shoulders eyeing it with distaste. “This isn’t the coat I gave you.”

“No. It’s my coat.”

“The one I gave you is warmer.” He didn’t like how thin the coat she had looked, especially not when he had provided her with one of his own, one of his favorites.

“And it’ll be returned to you next time.” She shot back sighing in defeat as he ushered her into the elevator.  

“You should keep it. I don’t like how thin that coat of yours looks.”

She huffed under her breath but didn’t argue further. She didn’t want to ruin this before it even started. She needed this money. She’d already spent the money from the first few meetings in her head. A new coat for Eun Jae before the weather got too cold. The first installment on her father’s debt. They needed to fix the stove at the restaurant as well. Not to mention her tuition.

“I’ve already arranged a car for you.” He placed a hand on her back and led her out of the elevator. “It’ll be at your disposal day and night.”

“I really don’t need…” “You do.” He argued glaring down at her gently. “It’s for your protection as well as convenience. Fans can be a little rabid, and I’d prefer to know that you were safe.”

“Only for meetings.” She relented as he led her towards the side entrance of Jin Hit.

“You’ll use it as much as you need to. It’s safer than the bus or the train.”

“You can’t make me take the car.” She shot back eyeing him with concern. A car just seemed like too much for a sugar baby. She hadn’t even done anything yet.  

He paused turning to level her with another gentle glare. She knew they could be worse. Nina has showed her enough Agust D videos for her to know just how fierce he could look. He was going easy on her.

“Take the car. Even if you don’t want to use it, I’ll just have Jackson ready to pick you up anyway.” He shrugged. “He’ll just shadow you until you take it.”

She didn’t like the sound of that either.  “I’m fine taking the bus.”

“But I’m not.” He looked at her eyes dark and unyielding as they both tried to decide which of them would be the first to yield. “For your safety and my peace of mind.” He grumbled leading her out of the building to the waiting car.

It was a dark SUV with the windows specially tinted for celebrity privacy with a driver waiting outside for them.

“This is Young Jae my driver.” He introduced.

“Ma’am.” The man nodded about to open the door for them, but Yoongi beat him to it. Like a gentlemen he opened the door for her and helped her inside following in right after her.

“Where are we going?” She asked as the car pulled away from Jin Hit.

“Out for an early dinner. I know you probably have studying to do.”  

“I do.” She nodded fiddling with the strap of her bag.

“You never told me what you were studying.” That was true enough. He had never asked her, and she had never told him, but he knew anyway.

She looked at him in surprise. She had never thought that he would actually be interested in what she did outside of their arrangement. It wasn’t really in the nature of their relationship for him to care about what she did.

“Elementary Education. I want to be a teacher.”

“It suits you.” He hummed. “What do you do when you’re not studying?”

“I play the cello.” She admitted only a little hesitantly. Music was her passion after all. It was something that they shared, she supposed.

He smiled leaning back against his seat. “Classical?”

He pretended to be surprised. She didn’t know that he had watched her play before. She didn’t know that he knew a lot of things about her. If she knew how much he knew she would probably go running for the hills, not that she could. Not legally at least. He had had his lawyers slip a few surprises into the contract, hidden within the fine print. She was locked into the contract for at least a year. If she broke contract for any reason, she’d be responsible for paying out the contract, and the price was set at far more than she could afford, as well as a few other surprises.

He had his tricks to keep her close. She was a sweet little songbird, but she was skittish, wary of him. She was too sweet for the arrangement she had gotten herself into, but Yoongi was determined to keep her safe. She would always be safe with him.

“Yeah.” She agreed. She did love classical music, but it was fun from time to time to play more modern adaptations. Those were usually easier on the piano though. It was easier to find piano sheet music than cello for pop or rock songs, and she just didn’t have the time to go about transcribing sheet music for the cello, so she stuck to the classics for the most part.

“Never any Agust D?” He asked teasingly.

“Never on the cello.” She agreed.

“Any other instruments?”

“Piano.” She admitted with a smile.

Yoongi loved that smile. It was bright, unguarded. She was talking about something she loved, something he loved. It was as though her entire face lit up, and she seemed to shine from within.

“You’re quite the musician.”

“Not like you.” She pointed out sighing as she leaned back against the seats as well. She was exhausted from the day, and dinner sounded less and less appealing as the minutes passed. She just wanted to go home. She wanted to forget that the day had ever happened, and pretend if only for a moment, that she was still just Y/N and not Agust D’s sugar baby.

“A musician is a musician.” He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter if you play at home or in the arenas.”

They slipped into silence after that.

Dinner was short. She had studying to do, and the urge to see her baby. The day had left her rankled and seeing Eun Jae would help settle her again. So dinner was a light sweet meal where they got to know each other a little more before Yoongi sent her off in a car of her own. It was another dark SUV just like the one they had taken to get to the little restaurant.

“This is Jackson.” He nodded to the man waiting outside the car for her. “He’ll be your driver from now on.”

“Nice to meet you, ma’am.” The tall young man greeted with a respectful bow and a charming smile.

“Please, call me Y/N.” She introduced herself with a small smile of her own.

He nodded shooting her a grin, both of them unaware of the dark look Yoongi was giving them. She was never so at ease with him, but she would be soon with any luck.

“Take good care of her, Wang.” He ordered seeing his own car pulling up ready to take him to the next thing on his schedule for the day. “Take care, Y/N. I’ll be seeing you soon.” He gave her nod though it wasn’t what he wanted to do. He wanted to kiss her. God did he want to kiss her, but she wasn’t ready for that yet. Soon though. Soon.

She got home safe and sound though it was a surprise for Halmeoni to see her there.

The elderly woman looked at her with a sharp eye as she entered the restaurant. “What are you doing here?”

“I just wanted to see Eun Jae. It’s been a rough day.” She answered with a weak smile.

Her grandmother nodded in understanding motioning her head towards the stairs that led up to their home. “He’s upstairs. I’ll make tea.”

She nodded gratefully before practically sprinting up the stairs. She saw Eun Jae sprawled across the floor coloring, and it was like she could breathe again. Everything would be okay. It had to be okay. And even if it wasn’t, she would make it okay, for him.

part 5

[rosaetae]

spellbound to be | one

☇ “I don’t need to drink your blood to have my lips on your neck.”

[this is a part of tale of the purebloods] — prologue / one / two 

➣  pairing: jungkook x reader

➣  genre: vampire!jungkook, fanatasy!au, soulmate!au, angst

➣ word count: 12.3k

➣  rating: pg-13

➣  synopsis: jeon jungkook is the cursed pureblood to have fallen in deep love with someone who was not his Complement. having to have fallen hard, he has to compensate with a life full of heartbreak and pain— one of which a burden weighs heavily on his shoulders. so much so, he hires a witch one day to reverse his inevitable Complement tie.

Bloodshed.

That is what derives from Witch Trial Week at Ember Academy— overly exaggerating, of course. A witch-made week established decades ago, the equivalence to Hell Week in the mundane world, but something your friend, Piper likes to call "Heaven Week" for her own musings.

Ember Academy's witches spend the week hexing, jinxing, cursing each other in the light of every October 31st, Halloween. There's no real motive behind it. Before, whoever was the last witch standing would be given special treatment, but in modern day, it was used as a tactic for the professors to oversee who would be a powerful witch, for some it was a mechanism to either get revenge or to let out one's anger. For you, it was always fun.

To your misfortune, you were at the short end of the stick, being clever and witty enough to be made part of Witch Trial Week, one of the notable witches that some would target, but unlike the rest of Ember Academy, you didn't grow up with the others. They all knew each other the day you stepped into the academy, looking and talking about you as if you were anything but one of them.

And it was true, you weren't fully one of them.

Growing up, you lived in the mundane world, surrounded by people who upheld no special abilities as those in the Upper World. Surely, you were no stranger to the realm of where your mother comes from, you coming home every day from primary school to your father, a human, and your mother, a full-fledged witch who gave up her immortality and her life in the Upper World for the sake of her Complement. You'd spend the day learning simple arithmetic, and after school, you'd come home to your mother teaching you simple, harmless charms.

It was a normal life growing up for you, your upbringing never straying too far from your roots. On some nights, your father put you to bed by telling you bedtime stories, on other nights, your mother would sing a lullaby of broken latin. You were convinced for awhile that it was your mother's soothing voice, but at a certain age when she stopped singing you to sleep, she exposed that it was a siren's song she learned from a friend in her hometown.

As a child, you'd constantly ask about the Upper World, having constant dreams about another worldly realm and a recurring figure holding their hand out for you. And the minute your finger grazes theirs, you awake. Not on your bed made of sea water and a ceiling made of glass, but in your normal New York apartment that had some crooked crevices on the ceiling, on your springy mattress with beige linen sheets. Although, despite your continuous desire to visit your mother's home world, your mother and father were very against world hopping.

However, due to your father's passing when you turned 14, there was no reason as to why your mother should keep you in the mundane world any longer if you didn't want to stay, and brought you to the Upper World of where your dreams of it had come to reality.

Entering Ember Academy, you could not fathom why your mother was so strict of you convincing yourself and everyone else around you that you are a full-fledged witch. And then you learn during one of the history classes that a hybrid witch that shares two worlds forbidden from each other was subjected to execution if entered the soil of the Upper World. You never understood why such a thing as your existence had such dire consequences, but that just made you more aware of your lies to everyone in the Upper World.

Your mother raised you believing that love shouldn't be forbidden, no matter the circumstances, even if that meant two different worlds. The mundane world was like that too. Star-crossed lovers consisting of Romeo and Juliet, Jack and Rose, Joel and Clementine, your own parents— they're all the epitome of what your mother likes to gush on and on about. And in hindsight, you are the product of it.

Due to your inability to grow up with the other witches, you had almost the entire academy against you for the past few years, especially on Witch Trial Week, only for this year to completely change that.

In the mundane world, sports like kickboxing was one of your favorites, and while there was no such thing as kickboxing in the Upper World, your main characteristic was that you like to play rough. A tug a war, a game of chess— this year, you were not holding back.

"Don't be so quick to be disappointed, Piper."

Piper, one of your only purely good friends at Ember Academy, watches you grind up dried lavender buds in a hard stone mortar and pestle, making a few grinds before running an index finger along an old page of your mother's book you took without her permission. She plops down onto her seat in front of you, her dark purple hair bouncing on her shoulders as she taps on her star glitters on her face. "It's Witch Trial Week, ___. That means I have to witch-proof all of my belongings because Rina and her damn fritter friends are going to pull a last year's move."

"Oh, come on. It wasn't that bad," you state, pouring the crushed up lavender into a glass bottle that had frog mucus and torn rose petals sitting inside about one fourth of the way. Piper doesn't question what you were up to, only continuing to voice out her frustrations.

"They cursed my assignments! You know how many extra credit assignments I had to do? 200 points gone because of this bloody witch-made week!"

Smirking, you peer up at her before standing up from your seat to grab a large jar of purple dragon drool on a shelf right behind you, before sitting back down, "calm down, I have plotted the perfect revenge."

"What?" Piper raises an eyebrow, her facial expression looking concerned. "Is that dragon drool?"

Opening up the jar, Piper makes a sour face when the aroma of a putrid, green whiff draws out of the jar, you having to stifle in a cough at the stench that made no warning traveling up your sinuses. Bringing your index finger and thumb to pinch your nose, you grab the small wooden serving spoon attached to the side of it and put two heeping spoonfuls of the dragon drool into your concoction before swiftly shutting the jar and finally being able to breathe again.

Piper lets out an exhale she's been holding in, staring at you with wide eyes, waiting for an answer that you were sort of stalling as you rip up a piece of paper. "I borrowed my mother's infamous dark magic book."

She gulps at the sound of that. "Dark magic?"

"Calm down, it's not that bad," you roll your eyes at her fear of using an area of magic that you were technically not supposed to touch upon— but you couldn't help it. It's dark magic, it's bound to be used somehow. "Just going to tease around with Rina's emotions a bit. We all know she's been trying to hit on Namjoon despite her Complement is Doyeon. I'm making a simple love potion for Namjoon to fall in love with Rina— only for the week though. She'll be a bit heartbroken at the end, but hey, she stained my uniform with troll's blood last year."

Jung Rina, daughter of Ember Academy's high priestess, who also adapts an attitude problem. She likes to taunt other witches from afar because of the power she gains from being the high priestess's daughter, cursing and jinxing others and acting as if it wasn't her— she gets away with it anyways. Unsure why, even when you do mind your own business, it's as if Rina has something against you— you confirmed this when even after Witch Trial Week, she wouldn't stop jinxing you.

Last year, she took your uniform while you were showering after with a game of shuntbumps, only to wear a uniform stained with a bright yellow color leaving a horrendous, pungent smell of troll's blood. It was one of the most talked about trick for the year, everyone bringing up the fact that Ms. Jung Rina was able to get her hands on troll's blood and use you as a target. A laughing stock, the black sheep— you've endured it for long enough.

"You're using dark magic! On the high priestess's daughter! That's—"

"Risky? I could care less." You finish for her, shrugging. You write down the template for the love spell that was written in high level latin, writing it carefully letter by letter. As your quill inks the paper, you look at a sweating Piper momentarily. "Stop worrying! If anything, you're guilty by association."

Piper places her hands over eyes and sighs. "I did not see anything."

"No, you didn't," you muse along with her as you place your quill back into its holder and roll up the paper into a thin tube, tapping it into the bottle that finishes up the spell. You watch as the dragon's drool acidifies the paper, already acidifying the rose petals, ground lavender buds, and frog's mucus prior, all in all creating a lilac hue in the glass bottle. "See? It's done. Now I just need to pour this into his cup of juniper latte when we go to potions."

"Huh," Piper says aloud. "That's sneaky."

Clicking your tongue at her, you slam the dark magic book closed, quickly shoving it into your tote bag while you plug the glass bottle with a cork, gently placing it along with the magic book.

"May the games begin," you whisper audibly only for Piper to let out another sigh of disappointment, but also in anticipation.

Everything was going smoothly. Going to class was like a mission, having to make sure that you don't mindlessly enter a trap, but as you sit down in your seat, in the sight of Professor Young of where safe base was, you just had to get through this class without being suspicious. Despite all else, everything was smooth sailing. Even pouring the potion into Namjoon's juniper latte when he wasn't paying attention was easy. And you noticed that no one has caught you— yet.

In a whirl of lingering moments, the grace period, you were sat in your seat, reading your potions book when you hear an abrupt sound, you and almost everyone in the class looking up to see Namjoon, his told figure looming over the other students with eyes wide as day.

He makes one audible noise, "Rina," before dashing out of the potion room in a coarse and gawky manner, Professor Young calling after him while the rest of the class took it to their own accord to follow him, already presuming that something only Witch Trial Week can influence. Eventually, all classes grew curious of the commotion that people trickle into the crowd as they follow in a hearty distance from Namjoon's graceless gait.

You pull Piper to the side when you see Namjoon approach his and your target, standing from one of the many columns of the area to get a good look given by the angle you were given. Piper couldn't help but to let out an amused giggle when you both see the moment unfold in front of your eyes.

"Namjoon?" Rina speaks, her cheeks going red when she sees Namjoon on his knees, head down. You almost snort at how her eyes go wide when she finds her biggest crush right in front of her, thinking this was out of his own willingness— Namjoon actually being in love with Rina. "Namjoon, what are you doing?"

"I love you!"

The loud announcement rings and echoes in waves down the hallway, you and Piper already having a hard time stifling your laughter at the confession. Rina gulps before she lets out a scoff in disbelief, a smile creeping on her face as if this was a moment she was expecting. Her cockiness makes you want to gag.

"I love you with all my heart, Rina! I want to stay by your side forever!"

Whispers upon whispers dissipate into the air, one of concern, one of cheer for Rina, and one of straight amusement.

Rina raises her eyebrows, clearing her throat. "Namjoon."

"Please, keep me in your life," Namjoon states, almost like a whimper. In that moment, he peers up at Rina with huge bug eyes, as if he was really begging. The anticipation stabs at you like daggers as Rina continues to stare at him in both awe and confusion by the sudden confession. "Master."

The last word leaves his mouth almost like a mutter, and you were for sure, for a mere second, that you misheard him— everyone did, until you're finding Namjoon leap from his stance into Rina's arms, immediately peppering her with kisses on her cheeks, causing her to stumble backwards. The murmurs amongst the crowd grow, following with a few giggles as Rina is trying to push Namjoon away, trying to hold in her giggles.

"Namjoon," Rina says through fits of giggles as she brings her hands up to his chest, trying to keep some distance between them. "Namjoon, not—"

The words are taken out of her mouth when Namjoon, shamelessly and giddily swipes his entire tongue along her cheek, earning a large gasp from the crowd. It leaves not only you in shock, but as well as Rina who entirely freezes in realization of the contact that was just made. Your mouth hangs open, until you roll your lips inward, trying so very hard not to break into a fit of laughter.

"Wrong spell, you hobworm!" Piper whisper yells, slapping a hand on your arm as you let a snigger out, looking at your friend with amusement, wondering why she wasn't finding this just as funny as you did.

"Hobworm?" You gasp at her insult, your amusement unabashedly shining through.

Piper scowls at you, biting her tongue to prevent from encouraging you further into amusement. "You cast the wrong spell!"

As your smile grows, you shake your head. "No, I swear I didn't. I did everything correctly—"

"Then why on earth is Namjoon under a puppy love spell?"

Glancing your eyes at Rina, you hear whispers among the crowd who watch as she tries to push a puppy in love Namjoon away from her. He whines and whimpers each time she makes the distance greater between them.

"Who did this!" Rina exclaims, trying to push a licking Namjoon away from her. "Who in the heavens thought this was funny? I will be reporting this to my mother and every little squeamish fritter that allowed this to happen— no, Namjoon, bad dog!"

This allows you to snort, all your laughter you were containing bursting out as you couldn't hold it in anymore. However, doing so only allows Rina to make direct eye contact with you, her face twisting in volatile spite, knowing very well that you are the culprit. Widening your eyes, you began to run before your mind processed it.

"___!" Rina screeches from the tops of her lungs, everyone in front of you turning heads to find you, the witch who dared to pull a little stunt against the High Priestess's daughter.

Legs stride step by step, zooming through the halls with adrenaline pumping your veins as the wretched witch was probably right behind you, chasing you down when you hear the sounds of heels, knowing very well that's Rina's 3-inch heeled mules clacking in the distance. Professors peek their head out of their classroom in curiosity, some yelling at you to not run in the halls, however, your eye is set on the prize— the exit.

It was closed, and to save time, you swipe your hand in front of you, a spell recited in your head swinging the door wide open that it hits the walls and causes a loud slamming noise. It was the door that led out to the garden of the academy of where fresh herbs grew, and at this point of your escape plan, you were hoping to hide in the depths of the greenhouse until class ended.

You run down the steps, eyes looking down as your feet land on each step, careful not to miss one or you'd fall down to your doom. And just when you safely made it down the staircase, you are bumped into a wall of rigid flesh and muscle, your immediate reaction to apologize, except the words are taken out of your mouth when you look up and see the face on all pictures and drawings matching to the person who looked just as mesmerizing in person as he is on paper; the one and only—

"Your grace," Jungkook hears you sputter, shutting your eyes and lowering your head to hide your own embarrassment and disappointment in such a quick second. His men behind him step forward, but he raises a hand to halt them in their place. "My sincere apologies—"

"Do you have no mind?" Jungkook hears the secretary who was leading him on a tour around Ember Academy snap, her booming and high-pitched screech at the sheer shame that has been exchanged by this incident.

"I am so incredibly sorry, your grace. I am at fault—"

The king himself is not at all bothered by a simple bump by a young witch, considering that it seemed you were on the run from something. He glances down at you in subtle curiosity, your head bowed before him with your hair braided, as you stand still despite the constant nagging of the secretary scolding you for being so unaware. And something catches his eye.

His eyes focus in on the crystal of pale, fair, ivory that hangs on your neck. It twinkles in his sight with the sunlight just bouncing off of it into his cornea, right before he settles in recognition of where he recalls it. There's a swift movement moments later of where you raise your head just slight, only to lock eyes with him.

How you've grown, he thinks to himself. He remembers how your eyes were that of similar of a doe, and how you stared at him with the same wide eyes when you were little. It scares him how much time has passed and how you stand before him, more matured than before— he wasn't expecting to see you this soon.

The locked gaze lasted briefly before your eyes widen and you bring your head back down.

He manages to let out a sigh, "I suggest you pay attention where you are going in the future."

Jungkook can tell that you were surprised by his response, despite you committing the worst crime by even daring to be this close to the king. Even the secretary was a distance away from him.

"Yes, your grace."

"You may look up," he speaks. The permission makes you hesitate, but swallowing the lump in your throat, you inhale deeply and rise, and when you steadily meet his eyes, immediately, it's as if you could see his past. The pain and sorrow he has been through. It all encompasses into the hallows of his eyes.

"What is your name?" You blink at the question blankly as he awaits your answer, arching an eyebrow when you stay mute. "Well?"

"___," you answer. "My name is ___, your grace."

There's this glint in Jungkook's eye that even he is aware that you notice. It occurs to him that he has not once asked your name before, but somehow he finds it this moment valuable to gain that piece of you. Meanwhile, you hope he does not find any significance to your name, that this incident isn't one to be held against one day.

It's then, he smirks, giving a single nod, etching your name into his brain for he knows he will not forget it. 

"Your name will be in my memory, ___," he speaks ominously. Your heart drops in return. "You are dismissed."

six years later.

"Welcome."

The books weighed heavy in your arms, but you ignored the fact that it was nearly slipping out of your grasp as you gripped on the jar of dried magnolia leaves in the other hand, making your way to the small work table just right out into the shop of where you greet the presence inside the shop. Taking one last step to your marked destination, you let out a sigh of relief, your shoulders relaxing as you plop all of the buttery books onto the work table, still keeping the jar of magnolia leaves in your grasp.

"Is Circe here?"

At first, the voice processes in your mind, realizing that you were so engrossed on completing a minor trip without making a fool of yourself and dropping all your books at once that you forget for a mere moment that someone was in the shop. And what makes your whole body freeze like the ice age of modern day was the name you haven't heard in so long— only when your father would let it tumble out of his mouth and him being the last one to ever speak of the name.

The aura shifted within the shop. Not daring to turn around and meet eye to eye with the person who knows your mother's real identity, you keep your back turned away, placing the jar gently onto the table right next to your books, a pinky setting down first before gently setting down the bottom of the jar to relieve the loud sound it would have made.

"Who's asking?"

There's a moment of hesitation, one that you can only take in as sly and mischievous. Silently, you maintain a mantra in your head, one that recites a spell to freeze one's muscles entirely, the silence teeter totter between having to put the spell to use or not. The sound of a step is heard— one that sounds too close for your liking that in a whirlwind, you swiftly twirl around and let the mantra come to life in an instant, "carpe musculus."

And with wide eyes, you realize your mistake immediately when eyes lock with the ones that belong to the sheer ruler of the property you stand on— the king. It wasn't hard to forget them, since the last time you two had a rather unpleasant encounter. His eyebrow quirks up at your spell you casted upon him, his body completely frozen over as he was in the midst of grabbing one of the crystal necklaces hung on display at the register, an arm outstretched, but posture and dignified stature remained.

"An old acquaintance."

"Verto," you mutter, blinking with the same wide eyes as you see him gain control over his muscles again, his hand retracting and meeting his other hand from the behind, his throat clearing at the situation that he assumed— correctly— that you were fearful of. Bringing your head down instinctively, you open your mouth with eyes shut. "Your grace, I apologize—"

"Apology accepted," he cuts you off, making you peer up at his form from the curtains of your draping hair. Slowly, you rise your head, keeping your chin up to match his formal, dignified persona. "I am merely here to see your mother."

Scoffing lightly, you let your lips curl upward, turning around to grab at the jar of dried magnolia leaves from the table. "You must be an old acquaintance to call my mother by her real name," you take note aloud, wandering and maneuvering around the vast shop to the corner near the front of where the jars of special ingredients sit in the cupboards.

"Is Circe not what she goes by?"

You shake your head, opening the jar with one of the keys wrapped around your neck, twisting and turning before the cupboard unraveled a collection started by your mother. "Cora," you correct him. "She went by Cora."

"Very well then. Is Cora present?"

You blink at the question, mindlessly nudging the other jars to make room for your new ingredient you've obtained from the village due to a friendly seller who saved the leaves just for you.

"You just missed her," you announce, placing the jar snugly just between the phoenix feathers and pickled frog tongues. "By three years. She passed away."

"She passed?" The king speaks his question in subtle shock, evidently oblivious to your mother's passing, one that makes you question what connection he had to your mother as you turn around to meet his wide eyes. Politely, he realizes the atmosphere that was created and clears his throat. "I'm sorry for your loss."

"I'm sorry for yours," you try to keep the the spirits high, a teasing smile on your lips. "It seems like whatever reason you came here for was pretty important if the king is in need of my mother's services. And in replacement of my mother's absence, how may I assist you?"

In comparison to the young witch that was so invigorated with competition that you grew blind to your own surroundings, you were not like her to easily cower in front of intimidating figures— including the king— anymore. If she saw you now, she'd probably wonder why you are so nonchalant speaking to the king as you are in the moment, but there is one thing you noticed that allowed you to act the way that you are now.

He came into the shop looking for your mother, seeking for her services. Though he has the power to put you into exile or to chop your head off or to even rip your heart out of your chest, it means nothing when he is obviously wanting a favor.

Jungkook's eyes narrow slightly before he scoffs lightly. "Not quite sure if you can help me."

"I'm not that sure either," you muse. "But I am the next option to my mother's assistance. Or if you have no interest of my assistance, then I believe this shop is not meant for you, your grace."

It wasn't hard to notice that he was having an internal battle the minute you turned the other cheek to resume what you were doing. Shutting the cabinet and locking it, you wander to the back of the room of where the work table was, taking the top book of the stack and dusting it with one of your mini feather dusters.

"What do you know about Complements?"

Freezing your wrist, you take a second to process the question set in the air, your eyebrows furrowing. Setting the duster and the ancient novel down, you twirl around once more to meet the eyes of the distant king, each second becoming more comfortable under his gaze that seemingly brought temptation and fear amongst others.

"Depends. I'm not very interested in the topic enough to know the ins and outs of it. However, I do know how to expose a Compliment tie—"

"What about erasing a Complement tie?"

An eyebrow shoots up on your face, his questions becoming more questionable from your mere curious uprising, but as you let his inquiry sit in your mind, you shrug. "Never been done."

His grace scoffs, allowing the pad of his thumb swipe under his nose before returning to hold his hand from his behind. "That's what your mother said."

"And I'm afraid, to this day, her word remains true," retorting to his attitude, you fold your arms over your chest. "However, I can unknot a Complement tie if needed."

"Your mother has already done that."

"Of course she has," you roll your eyes, realizing that the more you talk to the king of Frawen, the more you realize that you were talking to a wall. "How about this? I will do some digging about it in her archives. She has mentioned before that terminating a Compliment tie is hard. However, I do believe it's not impossible." He stares at you attentively before you placate his energy with a smile, a little light of hope intended. "I will come by your castle once I've retrieved a decent amount of information."

He stays silent, a steady gaze on your eyes that slowly made you more uncomfortable with each passing second, but thank the dark lords that someone enters your shop, the door making a very loud entrance that ruined the staring contest between you two, your eyes averting to the customer who entered the premises.

"Welcome," you announce, strolling from the work table up to the front to sit right behind the register, flickering your eyes towards the king when seeing that he hasn't moved from his spot. "Until then, King Jungkook, I have a customer to attend to."

The customer that saved the awkward tension takes a step into the shop, but with a single glance headed their way from the king, the customer drops their head and mutters an, "I'll wait outside" and flees back into the Upper World sun, the door shutting again. Lips parting, you gape at Jungkook who looks back at you, ignoring that his own presence had made one of your customers scurry off in intimidation.

"When will I hear from you again?"

Scoffing at him, you shake your head at his evident advantage and inhale deeply. "I'll start doing some research tonight, your grace. Expect me in front of your castle in two days. And if you could kindly so, can you tell my customer they may come in on your way out?"

He lets his gaze linger on yours for a second before silently nodding on his way out, his presence exchanged for the customer's. The customer glances at you awkwardly as you count write something on a piece of paper with your quill, as if confused that you were not trembling after just speaking with the king, but going back to your normal day as if the king had never arrived.

"Why, King Jungkook came to visit. Quite sooner than I expected," the amused tone that drips from Circe's tongue when she notices the arrival of none other than the King of Frawen just two weeks after he had gone up and left her abode after the reveal of his dreaded Complement tie.

"Came to greet a happy birthday to her?" The witch doesn't meet his brooding gaze, but gathers bouquets of flowers in her hold.

"No," he flatly states. "I still have a favor to ask of you."

"Ah," Circe nods, balancing the bouquet carefully before tossing her aging hair over her shoulder. "The one about your Complement? You left so quick the last time we spoke."

Jungkook clenches his jaw, an attempt to not forget that his own fear and apprehension after making the forsaken revelation that he had met his Complement so soon; a child— a hybrid, a product against the Upper World law— is his Complement. Curse himself for being so easily affected.

And while the two have known each other for awhile, Circe wastes no time to remind him of inevitable fate, despite her own idea of the past he carries. It weighs on him heavily that even Circe cannot recognize the aura of whom she once knew of.

"Yes," he inhales sharply. "I need you to erase it."

Circe bellows a light chuckle, one that makes his eyebrows raise at the response. "Are you insinuating I kill my daughter?"

Jungkook knows that the witch likes to dig in places to prevent the other party from kicking around the bush. She hates fluff and she hates time being wasted. Only now, giving up her eternal life only makes her that much crabbier about it.

"Do you believe that I'd be daft enough to try to imply such a thing?" He shakes his head, a slight smirk growing on his face. "Murder doesn't sit very well on my shoulders, Circe. You must at least know that much of me."

"Do I? It's been too long."

Jungkook smiles at the grinning witch, "I am insinuating you sever our Complement tie."

The witch in decorative forest green and black, stares at the king who wears a sack-colored cloak that did not do justice hiding his black, feathered doublet that resembled such royalty and wealth. Even with the hood on, it is no mistaking that the man with raven hair and pale, glimmering skin, is the king. She laughs, her finger tapping against the paper wrapped around the bouquet of plum-hued calla lilies. "I'm afraid I can only live up to your favor in part."

"The most powerful witch I know cannot cut a Complement tie?"

She is no stranger to his challenges, but because she has no need to maintain the name of being the infamous witch who wields such immense power no longer (as she knows that name will be given to someone much worthy), she merely shrugs, a smile on her face. "Not even I know how to cut a Complement tie, dearest Jungkook."

"Your lack of knowledge of erasing something as mere as a Complement tie is disconcerting, Circe."

The witch hums in response, before whispering something of broken latin, and with a waver of a her fingers, a string of deep scarlet attaches against Jungkook's chest, one that floats in the air and trails in a ragged line right over Circe's shoulder and through the wooden door of her home as if he were tied to something— to someone.

The unveiling of the string causes Jungkook's breath to be caught in his throat, a pinch of nothing like before right against his chest of where the string is attached to.

"I see that, despite your best efforts, you could not stray away from her. And you want to know why?" Circe turns over her shoulder, before pointing at the single evident knot made along the string. "This knot was formed when she touched you and so long as it is there, you will live in constant yearning to see her and to be with her. Tell me, how many times have you had to prevent yourself from coming here until it became too unbearable?"

"Can you reverse it? Untie the knot?" His breath is tattered, uneven. It's as if the exposure of the string wrapped every inch of his heart and silently, the king of Frawen fears that his heart might be taken out of his chest.

"I can," she nods, an expression of indifference on her face. "But doing so does not change the fact that you are each other's Complements. It means that you will no longer feel the constant and desperate need to see her."

"Then I beg of you to do it—"

"However, the bond is strong, Jungkook," her gold eyes stare back at him before they soften, as Jungkook's mental mantras to fight off the peculiar pain deriving from the scarlet string has become a door to all of the pains he has experienced in the past. "I fear that the more you leave it in the dark, the more it will create more conflicts in the future."

"Having this complement now is already creating conflicts for me, Circe."

"Jungkook, if you two were to see each other again by the universe's happenings, must you know that the knot cannot be made again by simple touches. It has to be tied by the hand of a witch."

"If it's not any burden to you," he breathes in sharply. "I'd like you to unknot our Complement tie."

Circe makes a face of indifference before sighing. "Very well," she states just before she mumbles another string of latin and snaps, and lo and behold, the knot unravels by itself. The scarlet rope looked like it had no indentation of where the knot once was.

Jungkook lets out an aching sigh, as if he was under water for too long. Circe makes one more movement of her hand before the red string dissipates into the air, no longer exposed to the eye.

"There," she says. "Now leave, before she sees you again."

Circe doesn't give Jungkook a look of goodbye as she hurries inside her house. She feels the presence of Jungkook leave, exhaling in relief as she peers down at her daughter who gleams up at her, her hair in two buns on either side of her head. Her daughter lets out a squeal of "mommy!" before dropping a sage bundle in her hand to run up and hug Circe's leg.

"Happy birthday, my dear. Six years old already?" The witch pats her daughter's head as she giggles against her. "Go on into the kitchen. I'll be there in a moment."

And as she turns around to trot inside the kitchen, Circe takes notice of her neck that has been exposed due to her hairstyle that she wanted to wear this morning. The etching of her Complement mark that once inked her skin of a rose, had become a blank canvas.

As if the mark was never there to begin with.

You haul across the other wing of the castle that stretches from the main entrance of where the gigantic black, grandiose door stares at you mockingly for not having the privilege to be invited by the king himself as well as enter the main entrance to unravel the glory of what stood for centuries.

Servants of the fairest skin and darkest of hairs escort you to the a room you are unsure of, but you don't question them when they open the doors for you of the building. This was as close you were ever getting to the castle.

"Your grace," you announce your arrival before you could realize that another man stands there from the side of your kingdom's king. Freezing in place with books tensing against your chest, your lips part. "King Jimin—!"

"Hello— oh, please. I don't like the bowing," his voice is light, a striking contrast from Jungkook's ominous tone. You lift your head that was on the way down of honorability, eyes staying wide at his unexpected presence. "Trust me, I'm not a big formalities type of person like my brother."

"What is it? Did you find anything?" The king ruins the moment by his barking, an impatience growing in his chest.

You open your mouth, and close it. "Yes, and no."

"Proceed."

Walking over to the table, Jimin smirks when he hears the loud plop that comes from your stacks of ancient books slapping on the table, dust sprinkles in the air by such impact as you wave it dismissively out of your face to spread out the books evenly.

"These are just merely collections my mother had of Complement ties laying out and about," you begin, grabbing hold of the green and gold accented leather bind novel of browning pages. "They all talk about the history of it, the perspectives of it, and some old spells that used to be done moderately back then, but have been taken out of a witch's curriculum in school. Oh, like this one goes on and on about the importance of it and why finding out who your Complement is before you meet them is deemed as bad luck. Like seeing the bride before the wedding, which actually originated from arranged marriages when— sorry, tangent. If I can just find the book..." As your voice trails, your eyes furrow in concentration to find the book amongst the pile you brought that would deem as very important.

Finally, you hold it up to and pat it, Jungkook raising an eyebrow and Jimin looking bemused at your inner workings being elicited through your rambles and tangents.

"This is where I stumbled upon something fruitful," you began. "It's a book that's anti-Complement. The author was actually a witch who thought his Complement was, and I quote, "vile and tremendously horrendous", so he composed this book that explains how to unknot the Complement tie."

"Nothing about cutting it?"

You smile as you open the book. "There's a whole chapter about it, but," as you flip open to it, the book in your hands bursts into bright blue flames illuminating your skin with a blue tint before it calms down, living proof that the book itself was cursed, either by the author or your mother's doing. "The book has been cursed and the most vital information you want means you're not the only one who is searching for a severance."

"Couldn't you just... cut it?" King Jimin chimes in and you shake your head.

"No, this witch said that cutting it would damage the blade and not the tie," you close the book to prevent the fire from getting anywhere. "The tie itself, when exposed, is simply a scarlet rope. Its material is very ethereal and even your finest sword cannot cut it in two."

"Brilliant," Jungkook says, defeatedly. He sucks in a deep breath before looking at you, eyes flickering up and down your form. "When will I hear from you again?"

Making a loud sound as you stack the books on top of each other, you look up at him and raise an eyebrow. "Again? You're expecting me to continue the search for an answer that I can't give you? This is all the information that I can gather from my mother's archive. I don't know what else you expect me to do."

"What the daughter of the most powerful witch of this kingdom can do, of course," he retorts, easily. It makes you scoff.

"I apologize, your grace, but I am not going through those extra lengths."

"For someone who adheres to formalities very often, you don't seem to be very intimidated by me. At least not enough to do what I say."

"Is your job as a king to be intimidating?"

It was that type of riposte that would have your head, an immediate escort to your death for even thinking that a cocky retort would come out of your mouth. If only if Jimin hadn't let out an amused snort, punishment would not have immediately be put off the table, but the irritation forming in the king's blood remains. He doesn't turn to his brother to hush him, but rather keeps a heavy stare at you, narrowed eyes into slits as a heavy warning— yet you stay grounded, raising an eyebrow at him.

"And you don't seem to know when to not speak your mind."

"With all due respect, King Jungkook, may I remind you I am here because you requested my services. I've given you what I can provide, free of charge. My mother has probably dealt with a customer who has wanted the same thing, and if the book was cursed, it's a heavy sign that it's not a wise path to follow."

King Jungkook inhales deeply, eyes staring at the hybrid who fears nothing under his gaze. He mentally curses to himself knowing very well that Circe was the most probable culprit of cursing her own books, for the sole reason of not wanting him to get his hands on vital information that would separate a Complement tie attached to her own daughter. Sighing, he makes a dismissive nod towards you, a finger tapping on his arm chair repeatedly. "Very well. Dismissed."

And without a word, you gather your things and leave, the same men escorting you away from the castle and the inconsiderate king.

Once your presence no longer lingered, Jungkook sinks down into his chair, letting his head fall against the fist of his arm that propped it up. Jimin clicks his tongue beside him.

"Now tell that was not who I thought that was," Jimin sings once the door had fully shut closed and it was just Jungkook and his brother of the neighboring kingdom.

"Your instincts are spot on, brother," Jungkook says with heavy sarcasm, shaking his head.

Jimin heartily laughs. "It doesn't take a Merlin to see that she's your Complement. It's quite obvious."

"Care to go more in depth?"

"Other than the fact that she's the only outsider you granted a visit at your castle, you're not so quick to throw her out either," he begins before tapping his finger on the table. "You also don't like looking her in the eye. You get tense when you do. Either you fear her or you fear getting close to her."

Jungkook raises an eyebrow in surprise at his brother's quick observation— it must be all the times he's observing human behavior in the mortal world.

"She's mentioned that her books derive from her mother's archives— is her mother...?"

"Her mother was the one that undid our Complement knot."

"Her mother was the infamous Circe, then?" Jimin marvels with his signature taunting smirk on his face. "Well, I'll be damned."

"You already are," Jungkook rolls his eyes.

"Your Complement is a hybrid— and not just a hybrid, Circe's daughter?" Jungkook didn't like that his own brother kept reminding him of who his Complement was, thus encouraging the fire of searching for a severance. "Despite the fact that she holds tremendous power, she seems very promising. You're not fond of her?"

"Jimin, you know—"

"Right, pardon me. You don't want her," Jimin inhales deeply, nodding.

"Jimin," Jungkook begins once again. "I can't have her as my Complement. I need her to find a spell to wither our tie."

"Is there another reason why you need to find such spell other than you're dreading that she's bound to you?"

"So that she could find real love and romance. She will not find it with me."

There was an unreadable look in Jimin's face that even his own brother could not decipher. It lingers for a moment before he makes the executive decision to stand up from the seat, knocking on the table with his pale knuckles. "I'm heading back to Merosa. May I make the suggestion that you take her to Sagewood?"

"Sagewood? Why in the heavens would I take her there?"

"If you want to cut the tie so badly, then I think it wouldn't be a very shabby place to start, no? After all, she only has access to such limited information— you're not being much help either. Besides, you both will most likely find something valuable there."

It was pruning day.

The plants you planted outside your windowsill in its respected pots looked green as ever, with some minor flaws sticking out. You walk outside with shears in hand, identifying the buds you'd snip off with love. You enjoy taking care of your plants, the only common denominator between this world and the mundane world that gave you a sense of normality.

Humming an old folk tune from the mundane world, you admire your plants, recalling that some of these plants were the ones your mother would plant back in the mundane world. As you snip off one of your greenery, you hear the faint sounds of neighs from afar, halting in front of your shop and creating audible commotion behind your back. You overhear your neighbors rush out of their respected buildings, having you grow curious by the second.

Raising an eyebrow, you turn around to find nothing but the king hopping off his trusty steed of ebony glory with a luscious mane, planting his feet flat onto the ground with ease while two other men follow his lead, staying a hearty distance from him. He meets your eyes immediately, ignoring that everyone around him are caught in a trance by his sudden appearance in the town.

"King Jungkook," you marvel with a smirk, ignoring the fact that your neighbors were staring in mixed awe and fear. "What a lovely surprise."

He approaches you, stepping onto the gravel, expressionless. "I request your stay at my castle."

The words don't process fast enough in your mind, a blank expression being your response, but even then, you couldn't help but to laugh, but it came out more like a baffled scoff. "I beg your pardon?"

"To make use of the castle's library," he fills in, a smirk painting his face. "We, too, have an archive for all things your curious, knowledgable mind may want to see. Thousands of collections over the centuries, compilations from notable figures. I'm giving you access to that information in search of the severance."

You gape at him, lowering your shears. The king takes this action with positivity as his smirk only grows for a second before he's back to his emotionless expression.

"I will have my men come by to escort you to the castle tomorrow morning at nine-hundred. Pack your things," he says with no confirmation from you. His passive command makes you blink while you watch him turn his shoulder.

Amidst his turn to head back to his source of transportation and the other men who stand in front of your property, you stop him, "really? And when have I agreed?"

His body comes to a full stop just a hearty amount of distance from you. "And you wouldn't?" He calmly states aloud. In a moment, he's turning his body back to completely face you, cocking his head slight. "Tell me, you're not at all curious about how to cut a Complement tie?"

"Why would I? I have no intention of doing so."

"So you'd want to stay bound to one person your whole life? When you meet your Complement, you want to be so attached to the point that being even just miles away from them tears you apart? Every second you do not see them is as if your heart is being shredded apart in layers. Finding out who your Complement is only ruins you in a way that is a hell disguised as a heaven," he says as if it were straight spitfire. There was remorse and dread in his voice that even you cannot decipher completely— as if the pain that courses through his vein is truly authentic.

"In the mundane world, it's different, no? Humans fall in love with who they want, when they want. Did you ever compare that to the Upper World where it is frowned upon to not be with your Complement?"

"They differ, yes," you say through gritted teeth.

"Are you not so curious as to how to sever the tie? To at least be one of the first witches in centuries to hold great knowledge of a severance? That maybe you would one day change your intentions to cut your tie?"

You stay silent, placing your shears down as you stare at him attentively. Sure, you were curious, but your curiosity grew more prevalent seeing how the king was doing so much as to using a rhetoric tactic to ease your answer into a yes. And oddly enough, it was working.

"Besides... free stay, breakfast— in the castle? Surrounded by all things good and gold?"

Letting out a scoff, you narrow your eyes at him. "Is that your way of paying me for my services? A bed and breakfast at the castle? A week to pretend I'm royalty?" Challenge dripped from your tone evidently, but while the others around you and nearly the whole kingdom all feared the king's presence, you didn't share the same feeling. After all, this was the king asking for your services.

And suddenly, his expression changes, one of seriousness turned into dry amusement as he lets out a deep laugh bellowing from his stomach. "No, I'm offended that you may think I'm that cheap," he states as you raise an eyebrow, stabbing your shears, sharp point down into the window sill just right behind your plants. "I may have taken advantage of your services before, forgetting my place as a client to you. For that, I apologize sincerely. I am offering pounds of gold to you in exchange that you continue your search to cut a tie."

"Pounds of gold?"

"I notice that you live in your shop," he speaks of apparentness, making your cheeks go red as he turns his gaze to look at the shop behind you, a place you vaguely remember growing up in. "After your mother died, you decided to turn your home into a shop? Selling your services?" In that moment, you freeze only slight, caught off guard by how easily he put two and two together, you merely forgetting that he was an "acquaintance" with your mother— of course, he knew of this property before you probably were born.

"If the pounds of gold are not enough, I would be glad to make your stay at the castle permanent after you've found the severance."

You raise your eyebrows at his offer, never missing the way his lips quirked upwards for a ghostly second when he sees he's appealing you in the right direction.

"A permanent stay at your castle? As what? Your mistress? A maid?"

He chuckles and shakes his head. "Of course not. Your mother would find a way to resurrect herself to rid of my existence if she found out that I made you, her daughter, a mistress. Let alone a maid."

"You will be staying at my castle free of charge. And while I know this shop has been dear to your mother— dear to you, I am also willing to put a new location in the center of Sapphire Hill for your services on the table. Closer to the castle and in the heart of Frawen. That is, only if you have a mind to accept my proposal."

Inhaling sharply, you both stare at each other in silence as your mind juggles and he patiently awaits your answer, his body still as a stone, probably cold as one too. There was no other ulterior option to choose from— after all, why would you decline such a proposal? You were just as curious about the severance as he was, wondering why your mother never wanted to stray close to that path and why she has never mentioned about it before. And perhaps, you too could also cut your tie before you ever get to find your Complement if you ever came down to it.

However, despite his generous offers for a mere severance, there was a deep feeling in your stomach that didn't sit very well with you, one that was silently yearning you to not accept. It felt alarmingly unnatural. Just as unnatural as interacting with the king up close three times in a month.

"Alright," you sigh, defeatedly, grabbing your shears from the wood and returning to pruning day. "You've appealed to me."

"Wonderful," he acknowledges, a single celebratory nod coming your way before he turns around to head back on his steed. "I will have people to escort you tomorrow. Nine-hundred."  

"Quite a castle," you announce, eyes boggling at the interior design of the castle you never thought you'd see in person. Hell, you didn't think you'd ever get to see it closer than it being on top of the hill until just previously.

The halls were a fair color accented with alluring gold, intricate designs resembling a brush stroke, as if the gold were painted free-handedly, yet a symmetry being maintained. Crimson rugs, drapes, furniture dabble the expense of the hallway itself, and ebony statues and sculptures stare back at you broodingly. Two broad statues of fairies introduce you on either side of the entrance, facing each other with conch shells held to their mouths.

Selene purrs in your arms, probably just as dazzled at the structure as you are. "I know, baby, I know," you mutter under your breath as your pace slows along the red carpet.

"___." The voice announcing your name echoes throughout the vast hallway, pulling you out of your thoughts and daydreams as you peer towards the grandiose staircase ahead, finding a familiar figure in red with accenting white tassels walk down the steps, slowly and gracefully.

Selene suddenly paws out of your grasp to be let go of, you lowering her down to the floor carefully as you know that she likes to roam around new and foreign areas by herself.

"Your grace," you acknowledge, pacing towards him to meet him in the middle, eyes watching Selene trot along the scarlet carpet just in front of you, only to realize that she made her independent way to the king. You arch an eyebrow when Jungkook stops his footing altogether, both of you noticing Selene taking a liking into him, purring against his leg and her tail curling around his calf, making elegant circles around him in adoration. "I see Selene likes you."

Jungkook coughs before removing his eyes from the feline to meet yours. "You have a cat."

"I do," you nod. "Is she not allowed in the castle?"

"I'll make the exception," Jungkook swallows as Selene rubs her cheek against his leg. You mentally thank Selene for kissing his arse, knowing that Jungkook might have gone soft for your feline friend immediately and discarded the direct thought of kicking her out.

"I was given her a couple years back."

"Were you?"

You hum in response. "Given to me as a gift for my birthday. I named her after selenite, one of my favorite crystals."

"As long as she doesn't get into anyone's way, your feline company is welcome. However, if she were to be causing mischief, do not be blowed if she is in your soup," the king warns as he turns around, a hand motioning you to trail behind him, but the whole situation nearly made you snort out loud. Was that humour in his voice?

Following him, you scoop Selene with a hand as you caught up to her, cutting her curiosity trip short as you did not want to have her disappear and find her as your dinner, despite King Jungkook's warning sounding slightly sarcastic. His foot steps climbing up the stairs echo, his boots emphasizing his steps as you follow a few steps behind him, your flats being light-sounded from underneath you.

The Upper World resembled a victorian age from the mundane world. As much as you missed your tennis shoes and trousers, the Upper World called for bell-shaped dresses, the air-sucking corsets, and uncomfortable shoes that hurt your back if standing for too long.

As King Jungkook walks down the spacious hall with such glorious designs, you notice that there were two beautiful women in gray high neck dresses, eggshell aprons wrapped around their waist standing on the side with head lowered. Despite their dull attire, their appearance is what caught your eye.

The one on the right had skin of the bluest topaz with complementing navy hair tied up into a sleek bun. If she had looked up earlier, you would admire her sunshine eyes that made her look so kind. The on the left had contrasting mauve skin and emerald hair flowing down her shoulders. She wore a headband to keep her hair out of her face.

Nymphs.

"Cricket, Calla," the king's voice ruined the solace of the hallway, the snap of both ethereal beings' heads making direct eye contact with King Jungkook, you catching the hazel eyes of the mauve skinned beauty for a split second before she keeps steady eye contact with the person she serves.

"They will be serving you throughout your stay," he states towards you, a nod cueing the two nymphs accordingly.

"Good morning, ___. I am Calla," the topaz nymph speaks first, bowing her head as you respectfully did the same.

"And I, Cricket," her partner speaks, bowing as well.

"It is lovely to meet you both, Calla and Cricket," you speak with a kind tone as they give the smallest of shy smiles.

"Aster and Fickle are unloading the carriages. They will be up to bring her belongings in any minute. You may start unpacking—"

"Oh no, that's not necessary," you intervene. The king sends you a glare for interrupting him, but daringly, you roll your eyes at him. "Cricket, Calla, just have Aster and Fickle leave my luggages on my bed. I didn't pack heavy, so it's alright. I'd prefer if I unpack myself."

"As you wish," Cricket and Calla say in unison before King Jungkook gives one last asserting, yet hesitating nod, turning his shoulder to continue walking down the hall.

"Come. I will show you the library," he orders, having you share one last look at the beautiful nymphs who both smile at you. In that moment, you give them a smile that you hoped would make them feel safe— as if you all have been friends before. As you tear your eyes away, you trot up to the king's pace, Selene being safe in your arms as you mentally curse the king for having long legs.

Walking for nearly a minute or two, you didn't realize he had stopped in front of large double doors, black wood engraved with the exact designs you recall in the main entrance, intriguing you with every bit. You blink for a nanosecond until you hear the door unlock and open, having to blink once more when you see that the king was only a few feet away from the immense opening, arms held behind his back as the door widened.

"Did you do that?" You question aloud. It sounded very mundane of you— as if you had not seen anything weirder in the Upper World.

"Yes," he speaks, raising an eyebrow at you as you wait for the doors to open fully. "I am a Pureblood, aren't I?"

His reminder made you realize that you did indeed forget that Purebloods hold some sort of power. It was only the three kings who held such powers, being why they were named the most powerful trio over centuries to live. Unsure why, you didn't take the King of Frawen to hold telekinesis, if anything.

The doors finally stop opening, two grand doors coming to a halt on either side of the opening and creating an entrance to a room that already has your mouth hung open.

"This is the library," he speaks, taking a step in first. "All of Frawen's greatest works over the centuries are all kept in here."

It was not the immense room that was its own castle itself, but it was the giant collections, endless spines of literature and word composition that was tempting you to swallow all of the knowledge up from them.

"These are the collections of Edgar Allen Poe," you observe, remembering that you had to read one of his famous works in your mundane junior high, the eerie components of his pieces standing out to you enough that you recall his name. "The Upper World holds mortal works?"

"Just the finer ones. Homer, Machiavelli, the Brontë sisters, Cordelia Maine—"

You widen your eyes. "No way. Cordelia Maine? You have her works, too?"

"Of course," he laughs at your never-ending bafflement. "She might be famous to you mortals, but her roots don't stray away from Frawen."

"Mortals," you repeat, catching his word that he knowingly categorizes you. It makes you blink up at him, more concerned why you weren't feeling as uneasy as you should that the king who stands in front of you and has brought you inside his castle knows you're the product against the Upper World law. "Dare I ask how you know this?"

The king smirks at you, probably bemused at how you weren't exactly trembling in your boots, but you probably have a spell prepared at the tip of your tongue. "Do you forget that I can smell your blood? You reek of mortals."

Arching an eyebrow at him, you narrow your eyes just slight. "Should I be worried?"

He smirks. "That I hold such knowledge? No, or else I would have no way to find a severance now, would I?" His rhetorical question is followed with a quirk of his eyebrow, a bemused smile illuminated from the indirect sun from the window. "Besides, your mother and I were acquaintances. I am well aware of your father and while I have never met him, I do know that your mother loved him, even if they were worlds apart."

Not saying another word, you smile. One that lingers on your face for a bit, one that is shared between you and the king, one that is as if you two have created some sort of connection by this secret he finds indifference to.

However, you do not let the smile linger for too long, for you cannot trust anyone so easily, no matter if your heart is oddly beating out of your chest and there is an odd stir in your stomach when his eyes remain on your form for a moment as if he is trying to study you and your every feature.

You disregard it though, as if a chip on your shoulder, or a hair in your face when he leads you back to your room from the grand library, claiming he has work to finish.

Later that afternoon, you were in the midst of unpacking your luggages when Calla and Cricket make an appearance into your room. They were there to escort you to lunch, but you told them to give you a few minutes to organize your things, encouraging them to wait in your room as you did so.

"Are you his betrothed?"

The sudden question makes you stumble, nearly dropping the books in your hand that you deemed most viable to bring to this trip. "Sorry?" You laugh, looking at them with a sheepish smile. A harmless question, but a stretch to inquire.

"Isn't that why he's having you stay here at the castle?" Cricket asks, keeping her hands intertwined in front of her as they both watch you organize your knick-knacks of books and crystals and Selene's toys.

"Oh to the heavens, no," you laugh, Cricket furrowing her eyebrows and cocking her head to the side, wondering why your peculiar stay at the castle isn't for that singular motive. "I'm here for an entirely different reason."

Calla blinks blankly, her long, blue lashes making it obvious. "Our king doesn't usually like to keep guests overnight— let alone indefinitely."

Placing your books onto the antique dresser, you raise an eyebrow at them. "Is that right?"

"We thought, perhaps, this was his attempt in courting you," Cricket says, rather timidly. "After all, you're very beautiful."

The compliment brings red to your cheeks. "You're just saying that—"

"But, 'tis true," Calla nods. "We're nymphs—"

"We can't lie—"

"We thought that he may have found love again—"

"We would be surprised if he didn't find you, at the very least, beautiful—"

"Our king doesn't open a room for just anyone, since he's very..."

"Closed off."

They jump off their sentences swiftly, as if a ball ricocheted against the walls in great speed and force. It intrigues you as you furrow your eyebrows, more interested in the last part they had to say. "Closed off? Why is that?"

Cricket and Calla look at each other before bringing their head down. "Have you not heard of his past?" You shake your head before Calla sighs and begins again. "Our king is the most kind, most fair— but it does not redirect the light away from his past—"

"Lost the people most close to him. Lost his mind along the way, and perhaps, most tragically, lost his soul. It began with Dawn and then his best friend who happened to be his general, and then his parents, and so on. They are frightened of him."

You furrow your eyebrows. "Who's they?"

"All of Frawen. Even those in the mundane world have heard of his story," Cricket answers.

"Frawen respects our king, if anything. However, that respect derives from fear. I'm afraid that the people in this castle are the only people who love him, who see the better in him."

"So I see it's been a lonely castle on this hill," you nod in understanding. "I won't bombard you both with anymore questions. You both are free to leave, I will meet you both in the dining room."

"Are you sure, my lady?"

"I'm sure. Please, I do not want to be a burden to you both."

The nymphs giggle. "We assure you that you are not. It's rather refreshing to tend to someone other than the king and his brothers."

"You both have been very kind. I will see you both there."

"And my lady," Cricket speaks. "We wish you a wonderful stay."

"Jungkook," Circe acknowledges his presence in a blink of an eye the minute he makes a step onto the property that was under an invisibility spell for nearly a decade, only to have it reappear as if it didn't disappear in the first place. "Here to welcome me back?"

The king lowly laughs, not taking another step onto the property as Circe turns around from watering her deep red rose bushes planted right outside. "I was surprised to hear that you made a foolish decision to move to the mundane world."

Circe ticks her tongue, shaking her head at how his prejudice against the humans stain his tone. "I don't believe it was foolish, dear Jungkook."

"Is that what you tell the Counsel?"

Circe lets out an amused sound, maneuvering around her bushes. "The Counsel can believe what they want, but they hold nothing against me. By law, I am allowed to be here and to be there. I may be a witch, aging like a mere mortal, but I still uphold powers strong enough to burn them alive before they can even think of crossing me."

"I have no doubt," Jungkook smirks. "But by law, is your daughter allowed to be here?"

Circe pauses her watering, hose in hand halting with the water continuously drenching a part of the rose bush as she raises an eyebrow. "Why are you here, Jungkook?"

"I heard she attends Ember Academy now. Enrolled as a full-fledged witch. I've come bearing a gift for her."

"A gift?"

"Call it a welcome back gift," he speaks with an anticipating tone right before he walks over to his horse of where a woven basket was attached to the saddle. Circe remains where she stands, watching him carefully as he walks towards her before she senses something, one that makes her hair stand on her arms. As he nears, Circe peeks into the basket, only to have her jaw drop as she sees that it is a kitten.

A kitten of midnight beauty, sleeping soundly in its basket of blankets.

Circe, who could not help it at all, laughs. Soft laughter rumbles through her throat as she coos at the creature, reaching her hands out to take the basket in her hands. "And your arrival has nothing to do with the fact that today is her birthday?"

"Is that today?" Jungkook ponders aloud as Circe laughs, sneaking a smirk on his face before she strokes a finger on the kitten's head carefully and gently. She can tell that he remembers, and that the years leading up to now, he always have.

Sighing, Circe's smile fades as she looks up at Jungkook, tired eyes and all. "I must tell you, Jungkook."

He raises an eyebrow at her.

"I've grown ill," she begins, retracting her finger from the kitten to hold the basket with two hands. "I have been for awhile now and I can feel my end nearing. I trust to believe that you will protect her."

Jungkook blinks a couple times, the odd construct of having someone who has been around for longer than he has tell him explicitly that their end is inevitable and that it was nearing quite sooner than he expected was worth a double take and a few seconds to digest.

"You may not want to stay tied to her, but I trust you enough to uphold her secret. And to protect her when needed," the kitten purrs meekly in the basket, making Circe glance at it for a mere moment before meeting the concerned eyes of Jungkook with matching knitted eyebrows. "Believe that I am not entrusting you with her life, but that the feeling in your heart of wanting to protect her is inevitable. No matter if the knot remains untied."

He opens his mouth, but the words he could not formulate were taken away quickly by Circe's chuckle, waving him off.

"I know what you'll say," she raises an eyebrow, lips curling and eyes creating crescents. "But if anything happens in the future, must you know you have my blessing."

"Circe," he begins.

"She'll appreciate this kitten," Circe interrupts, smiling at how the kitten inhaled and exhaled, curling in its ball with comfort of the soft fleece blankets. "I'm sure you don't want her to know it came from you, perhaps?"

There is a knowing look that the two share, one of pure guise. "May it be our little secret."

"Among thousands," Circe nods, one in which Jungkook does the same. "Will this be the last time we meet?"

"I would hope not."

"Then I bid you farewell, either for now or forever," Circe smiles, a weak curl of her lips, an evident form that made Jungkook realize that she looked much older than before— the gray hairs, her smile lines and forehead wrinkles. It all reminded Jungkook that she is, in fact, a pure mortal, withering faster than most. It scares him, but it makes him curious as to her motive despite him knowing that she did it out of love.

As he leaves the ebony kitten in Circe's hands to give to her daughter's possession, he departs her property with the lingering thought that maybe— perhaps people really do scary things out of love.

[thewritingginger]

Relief

This isn’t a Holiday prompt request, since I have a bunch of other WIPs I thought I would take a break of those and finish up others ones. So there maybe some back and forth, we’ll see :)

This was a request I got on Wattpad on my Alucard Comfort fic a couple months ago and it was mostly done so... I don’t know too much about Hector’s character but I hope I did him some justice. 

Fandom: Castlevania  Pairing: Hector x GN! Reader Word Count: 2,359 words Warning(s): Kinda sad, comforting Hector, fluff

Enjoy ~

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It has been roughly 4 months since you met the white haired man.

The moment you met him you felt the urge to get near him. Although he was beautiful, it wasn’t his high cheekbones or smooth skin that called you. It was the distant look in his blue eyes, an ocean of sadness. You felt his loneliness from across the room in just one glance. You asked for his name and he hesitated for a moment, like he was contemplating whether or not wanted to be seen more than he had been. ‘Hector.’ Is all he responded with, and the gentle sound of his voice made your soul ring. You smiled and introduced yourself.

Surprisingly enough, he talked to you that night at the bar. Nothing too deep, just menial conversation about your interests and places you’ve both traveled to. But in that short time together you knew it was more than just a ‘talk with a stranger at a bar’ situation.

‘We should meet again.’ you said forwardly. Hector’s eyes studied you for a moment, before responding. ‘I guess that wouldn’t be too miserable.’ You smiled, not just at his words but at the glimmer of something in his eyes that didn’t seem to be there before.

3 months into your meetings, you and Hector had gotten more comfortable around each other. Getting accustomed to your daily presence, one afternoon while the two of you were out on a stroll he asked,

‘Would you care to accompany me home?’ Smiling inwardly you respond casually,

‘Sure.’ With one word you continued your journey in silence, observing the world around you. Following his lead you saw in the distance a lone cottage, made of stone with a smoking chimney and a small garden in front filled with small purple flowers and berries.

Opening the door, you are welcomed with a wall of warmth melting off the cold from outside. Entering the quant space you took a moment to look around as he walked into the kitchen. Having taken off your cloak you drape it on the back of a chair, as you took a seat by the fireplace. He emerged with some water for you both and sat across from you.

That night was the start of what you two came to be.

Hector offered his bed to you that evening. In the middle of the night you got up to get some water. Wrapped in a blanket to fend off the crisp air, you see Hector on the couch under a thin blanket. The fire had died out a few hours before, cooling the room significantly. Forgetting the water you circled around him and crouched down in front of his sleeping face. Taking a moment you took in his being. Laying there, defenseless. Completely free of tension -besides the few shivers that raked through his body - clenching the blanket closer to him. You gently nudge his shoulder a bit, making him stir till he woke in a surprised manner. Sitting up, letting out a deep huff.

‘What’s the matter?’ He asked Eyes squinted, trying to focus on your face.

‘Come lay in your bed, with me.’ You said.

‘N-no that isn’t necessary.’ He stutters a bit, taken aback by your request.

‘You’re shivering out here and two bodies are better than one for gaining warmth.’

He sees that you wouldn’t be taking no for an answer. Sighing a bit he stood up and followed you to his room.

The room was dark, the only source of light came from the moon in the sky. Nothing sat in the room but a bed, a trunk and a small desk with a pile of books next to it. The warm bed called your name once again as a chill ran down your spine. Jumping under the sheets as you were before, you looked over to the forgemaster as he tentatively got under the blankets next to you. His back towards you, a big birth - despite the small size of the bed - between the two of you. Sighing a bit you moved closer to him, wrapping your arm around his broad shoulders. You felt his muscles tense a bit from your touch.

A long moment passes. Silence.

He turned around in your loose grip. His eyes bore into yours. Swimming in his gaze you saw his intensity but you also saw fear. Not the kind of fear you have when there's a monster before you. But the fear you feel when presented with a moment that may change everything, uncertain if for the better or worse.

‘You don’t have to be scared.’ You told him with your eyes.

A wave of compulsion washed over you, leaning forward you gently placed your lips against his. Stunning him, but he didn’t pull away. He kissed you back, deepening the kiss between you.

You both knew that this was the beginning of something between you two. A new chapter in both your lives. Uncertainty waved in the air, but neither one of you paid it mind just enjoyed the shared moment of warmth.

From that night onward everyday was filled with adventures and errands and nights spent listening to the sound of his voice. Telling stories about his life before you, as you fell asleep.

~~~

“Is this what it’s like?” He asks. You stop stirring the pot of food to look at him. His question perplexed you. Coming out of nowhere, unsure of what it was pertaining to. Hector is resting in the armchair by the fireplace beside you, book in hand, just staring at you in thought.

“Is what, like this?” You ask with a chuckle as you put the lid on the pot.

Hector looks down running his free hand through the back of his silver locks. His gaze not meeting yours again. You sit on the couch in front of him, waiting for his answer.

“Having a family.”

His three word answer made your heart hurt a bit. Walking over to him you sit on his lap, draping your legs over the arm of the chair. Resting your arm on his shoulder as you gently stroke his hair, looking at the side of his face. His gaze, still not meeting yours. You bring your other hand up to cradle his cheek in your palm slowly drawing his eyes up to yours.

His face painted in embarrassment. Eyes glistening, sadness threatening to seep out.

There’s that look again.

That uncertainty in his cerulean eyes. Debating whether or not he should continue. Biting his lips together he looks down at the space between you. 

“I ask because ~” he paused, taking a deep breath. “I never had a real family.” His words come out in a rough whisper.  “Why do you say it like you’re ashamed?” You ask with a slight laugh. “Because of what I did.” He responds, somberly. You stopped smiling, knowing you can’t laugh him through this one.

This one was serious.

Not unlike the time he told you where he was inside himself after the death of Dracula.

“What do you mean, ‘what you did’?” You asked, hesitantly.

He shakes his head, peeling your hand off his neck. Lifting you off his lap as he stands.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything.” He says.

Before you can say anything Hector rushes out the front door. Leaving you to stand there, looking at the old wooden door, shocked and saddened by the events that just transpired.

A few hours had passed. The sun had already made its descent from the day and Hector still hasn’t come back.

The cottage was silent, nothing but the cracking of the fire and heavy pants of Cezar. The undead pug, keeping you company in your newly shared bed. Your head rests upon the pillow, stained with drying tears. ‘Did I do something wrong?’ you asked yourself. Turning to Cezar, scratching behind his remaining ear. “What about you Cezar, do you know what happened?” The pug just barks in response. 

‘Well it was worth a shot.’ you thought.

Wrapped in the blankets and Cezar nestled beside your chest, beginning to drift to sleep you hear someone at the front door. Opening your eyes you sit up, waking the pup. That’s when you heard heavy steps coming closer to the door of the bedroom. You turned over, pretending to be asleep as you heard the door creak open.

The mattress, shifting from his weight on the other side.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers.

“I’ve been too much of a coward to show you all of me. Afraid of what you would think if you knew who I was. Who I am.” His words, a low hum as if he is talking to himself.

You turn over to see his back. His face planted in his palms. Your movements make him freeze.

“You’re awake.” He says. His voice, shaky.

“And you came back.” You said, sounding more surprised than intended.

“Yeah…” He lets out a half-hearted laugh.

There’s that silence again, a long stretch of time as you both hold your breaths.

“I should’ve told you this sooner. That way I wouldn’t have wasted so much of your ti~ ” You cut him off.

“Don’t say that you. You‘ve never even come close to being a waste of time to me.” You say, hoping he believes your words to be true and not just a pretty sentiment  to make him feel better.

Sitting up to prop yourself against your extended arm you say, “Whatever it is I’m sure it’s ~”

“I killed my parents.” He interrupts. Blurting the word out to make himself finally say it. “I-I killed my parents.” He repeats much quieter this time, almost to himself.

You take a second to swallow what he just told you. Fiddling with the sheets in your fingers trying to think of something to say but you don’t know what to say. So you stay quiet.

“It wasn’t out of malice, if that makes it easier for you to look at me.” He says. His words coated in worry.

Worry of what you will say. What you would call him. And most of all what you will do.  

Will you leave him? Like everyone always has. He wouldn’t blame you.

Another moment passes in the tense silence. He sighs in acceptance that you are through. He gets up to leave but you grab his hand from behind. Your soft touch sparked against his skin. Looking down at you, eyebrows furrowed.

“Stay.” Is all you said. Just one word glued a few pieces of his world back together. He sits back down, this time facing you.

“Why? After what I said, why would you want me to stay?” He asks

“Cause you haven’t told me the whole story.” You say.

He looks in your eyes curiously. “Y-you want to know… why does it matter to you?” He questions as he shakes his head slightly.

“Because you said it wasn’t out of malicious intent, so there had to be a reason. Right?” You offer a small curve of your lip.

Looking at you through his lashes. He says a soft “Ok.”

Clearing his throat. Hector then went on to tell you about his home-life as a child, if you could call it that.

The retellings of how his parents would treat him and their greed. The images he painted made your stomach turn a bit.

“At the time I felt I needed to. Like I had no choice.” He says, his words somber.

Reaching out you pull Hector towards you. He willingly falls into your embrace. His head resting on your chest. Soothingly combing your fingers through his silver strands, he holds your free hand in his.

“Even still now I don’t know if I would do anything differently.” He sighs, being thoughtful with his choice of words.

“I have no remorse for what I did.” He lets out an airy chuckle. “Y/n, have I become the very people I grew to despise.? The ones I’ve set my life out to rid the world of?” You think about his question. With confliction rising within you.

“Hector I’m not blind to the fact that you have done less than savory things and others might disagree but…” You pause, retracting your hand from his to guide his chin up to meet your gaze.

“That doesn’t make you a monster.”

Those words rang through his head, pulling a tear from his sockets. Coming from you it was everything he needed at that moment. For years battling with the idea that he is no better than the people who take and hurt others for their own gain, now settles a bit.

He kisses you. The idea that you were just being gentle with him didn’t go unthought about, but that didn’t matter to him. What did matter was you. Someone in his life that wants to be there. What did he do to deserve such a blessing? Was it by chance? And if so, will is this only be a fleeting moment in both your lives. Here one minute and gone the next?

Or could it be the stars aligned. Some cosmic deity put you together knowing he needed someone. Needed you.

Whatever it is, whatever put you in his arms. He couldn’t think of anything else but, “Thank you.” He says. Tears stinging his eyes. Looking up at you with his tear stained cheeks, his large hand cupping your cheek.

“Thank you.”

Those being the only two words he could speak. Saying them like a prayer. Leaning forward you connect your lips to his. The wetness of his cheeks touch yours. Wrapping your arms around his neck, holding him closer.

You fall back to the matters. He hovers above you, his fingers playing with your soft locks. His eyes looking at you with certainty. Certainty that you are real. That you will love him. And that you will be his forever.

In that comfortable silence he lays his head against your chest once again. Your fingers stroking his hair as he listens to the steady tempo of your heart beat and drifts to sleep.

Peacefully~. 

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

I hope you enjoyed reading this lovelies :3

💛 ~

MASTERLIST

[7wanderingpaws]

Always, yours (4)

Word count: 5.5K

Warnings: language

tags: @geniusloey​ (let me know if you want to be added!)

Masterlist / story masterlist

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Baekhyun blinked a couple of times, not taking notice of the baby cries gradually ceasing to quiet whimpers in the background.

“How can I help you?” he asked the stranger but before he could properly look into the stranger's eye, he saw the distraction in them. Baekhyun frowned, looking back over his shoulder to see you peeking out of the babies' room.

“I'm Lee Junho,” said your trainer, watching as Baekhyun turned back to face him. “I came to see your wife.”

“In what matter?” asked Baekhyun, confused and a little perplexed as to why was someone like him looking for you?

“She forgot-”

“Oh! Junho!” you came rushing down the corridor, holding the baby's head securely in your hold as you went to stand next to your husband, his arm somehow sneaking around your waist once you stood next to him. “What are you doing here?” you asked a little breathlessly, unsure about what to make of his sudden appearance at your house. You were very taken aback and a little worried. He was quite nosy, so him coming to your place didn't sit well with you. And now he was back at your door?

Baekhyun's arm unconsciously tightened around you, ignoring the baby in your arms completely, his hawk eye set on the strange man that you seemed to know and be even friendly with.

“You forgot your sweater at the gym on Thursday,” he told you and handed you a pretty gift bag, waiting for you to take it.

You frowned. “But I didn't-” you blinked a few times, trying to remember what was happening on Thursday besides you being an irresponsible mother. “I didn't change my clothes,” you murmured eventually, heat creeping up into your cheeks as you took the bag and had Baekhyun hold it. He took it with his free hand and let you peek inside, checking the piece.

When you still didn't recognize the clothing, you started to think you must have gone crazy. Maybe it was Baekhyun's shirt that you didn't recognize? How could you not, you were the laundry fairy in the house; you even knew each stain of every clothing in the household.

“Do you feel better?” asked you Junho, not waiting for your confirmation about the sweater. “You must have gone through a hard time on Thursday.”

You looked back at him, forgetting the sweater completely. “Eh, yeah, I was just fine,” you replied, absent-mindedly.

“Thank you for helping out my wife,” Baekhyun spoke up out of nowhere, probably observing the situation and putting two and two together. Junho was your trainer. 

Junho dragged his eyes back to Baekhyun, meeting his gaze rather intensely. “Well, she was very shaken up. I couldn't leave a beautiful woman by herself, could I?”

Your heart started to beat louder at the tone of Junho's voice and at the choice of his words. The way he said the word beautiful and let his gaze graze you for a second before returning it back to Baekhyun's stiff posture… He was thinking about you being beautiful the whole time? He seemed like he was challenging Baekhyun into an invisible fight and that was quite the surprise. In a way, it was also quite the challenge since Junho knew you were married, yet he dared to talk to your husband like that.

“Ah, it was alright-”

“Well, she was not alone,” rebutted Baekhyun, still calm. If he was angered by Junho's words, he didn't let it show, but it certainly did not sit well with him; the way he called you beautiful as if you were any woman. “She was with her good friend who would have taken great care of her.”

“I find it hard to believe; father not being present with the mother that has to take care of three kids.”

“Junho,” you spoke up in warning and, Baekhyun once again tightened his arm around you. You didn't understand what had gotten into the male.

“And your business into our family?” growled Baekhyun, slowly getting agitated. “I'm seeing you for the first time and I don't like you coming to our apartment just to bring a sweater that doesn't even belong to my wife,” he snapped angrily. “Whatever excuse it was that you needed for you to come here.”

“It isn't any of my business. But she is young and home alone for most of the days, and having to take care of all the matters by herself is difficult. You should take better responsibility and make sure she is fine.”

“Junho, what the hell?” you managed to snap as well, not liking how him and Baekhyun were talking as if you weren't present. Junhee was in her blissful obliviousness, her head in your breasts, magically always finding them.

“You're not the one I will tell how hard I try to make it all work,” said Baekhyun sharply and you were slowly getting a bad feeling about this. Goodness, don't let these two start a fight over a complete misunderstanding?

“Don't be ridiculous,” you told Junho, “all is fine. I don't need you to watch out for me nor my family.”

“I'm sorry, it was just so sad to see the empty apartment when we arrived.”

You felt like laughing in disbelief, especially when he pulled the puppy eyes at you. He looked incredibly cute and handsome but you could sense the sternness of his eyes when he shot a look at Baekhyun who went rigid at the word “we”.

“It was okay,” you repeated in a small murmur as you grew uncomfortable in the tense air. Baekhyun's hand left your waist.

“Thanks a lot for your concern,” added Baekhyun. “And thanks for the free sweater I guess.”

Just then, as if all the Gods were standing on your side in that moment, another baby started to cry, bringing the fruitless conversation to a halt.

Feeling Junhee’s mouth on your clothed breast, opening and closing around nothing in particular, you quickly shook your head. “I'll see you another time,” you said, wanting this to be over.

“Remember what you promised?” asked Junho after he nodded in understanding. “I'll wait for your message.” He looked at Baekhyun whose face became a complete rock. He was hard to read and, with anxiety bubbling in your tummy, you tried to rake your brain over the last time you saw him like that.

“Good luck. Take care of your wife or someone else will.” And he turned around, not bothering to go down with the elevator, instead taking the staircase.

You exhaled a small breath of relief, your body deflating before giving Baekhyun's profile a wary glance. “Honey-”

“I'll start preparing lunch,” he muttered to you quietly and he closed the door. Without looking at you, he turned and disappeared in the kitchen, leaving you with Junhee in your arms and a crybaby to take care of.

<3

You were changing Juna's diaper when Baekhyun reappeared in the doorway to the babies' room. The little nursery corner was right by the door, so he just leaned against the doorframe, his hands pushed into the pockets of his joggers as he watched with a frown how your hands worked, not even noticing Juna's smiley eyes looking up at you when you blew a raspberry against her baby tummy.

He spoke your name slowly, bringing your attention to him. At once, you looked up expectantly. The way he was acting a little distant made you somehow disconnected from him and that was something you never wanted to experience. “Can we talk?”

“Of course,” you breathed, too fast. “I’ll just finish this-” you skillfully fastened the nappy around Juna's tummy before dressing her into a cute one piece. Since you knew Baekhyun wanted to have a serious talk, you put Juna back to her crib, hoping the triplets would be okay without a little attention from the both of you for a bit.

Baekhyun waited for you and then you walked to the living room, ending up on the couch, sitting down; Baekhyun was facing the front while you were sitting sideways, wanting to see him well.

“Tell me what's on your mind,” you requested softly, reaching out to caress his shoulder. You didn't think he would become a little cold but he came to talk to you. So you wanted to listen. 

He looked at you when he felt the touch, his eyes softening when he saw the way you were looking at him. “I know you must be shocked at what Junho said and, trust me, I am too.”

“I don't like him,” he said matter-of-factly. “And, sweetheart, he obviously doesn't consider you just as a customer.”

You pursed your lips. “I've been only twice there.”

“And yet, you managed to blow him off his feet,” he said, somehow teasingly, making you giggle. “Which I don't like,” he added, his small smile diminishing and with it yours too. “What did he mean with the promise?”

You clicked your tongue. “It's nothing.”

He quirked a disbelieving eyebrow at your simple, but non-satisfying answer. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“I mean it, Baekhyun,” you shrugged, “I just said I'll contact him once I'm ready to start over.”

“You won't start over. At least not with him and not in his gym.”

“But Sukyeong is going-”

“No,” Baekhyun said strictly, his eyes piercing through you. “I don't want you to go to that gym anymore.”

“Why? Just because he is caring?”

At that, Baekhyun pulled away from you in disbelief as he faced you on the sofa. “Caring? You're joking, right? He likes you.”

“Just because someone calls someone beautiful doesn't mean they have a crush on them,” you rebuked, getting furious quite quickly. You didn't like the way he told you what to do. You didn't like the tone of his voice and neither did you appreciate he could do whatever he wanted just because he was your husband. 

Baekhyun was observing you with a very serious expression, not entertained by your answer. A small storm was visible in his dark, cloudy eyes and you felt like you said something very wrong. Wordlessly, he was taking in your countenance as if calculating you and whatever it was that went through your mind that he couldn't seem to decode. “It's not like that, sweetheart,” he told you finally. “The way he looked at you-- no” he stopped himself, hating even the idea. “You won't be meeting him again. He is a creep!”

“You're jealous,” you stated the very obvious. “You just don't like that someone actually finds me pretty?”

“What?”

You dared to push out your chin. “You heard me. Someone else is interested in me so now you are trying to pull me back to hide me?”

Stunned, Baekhyun let himself rest against the couch, his eyes almost drying out as he wasn’t blinking. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Nothing, but I don’t like how you’re acting, Baekhyun! I feel flattered that he thinks of me as someone pretty - after all, look at the way I changed! I’m only twenty-two but I lost my lean body and my hormones are going crazy… you know you don’t have a reason to be jealous but for once someone shows interest and you want to hide me!”

“You’re my wife!” He raised his voice as well, but still kept it in an acceptable tone. You didn’t hear how your words sounded in Baekhyun’s mind who understood them in a completely wrong manner than that of your intention. You were a taken woman, why was another man’s opinion important to you? His words should be the only words you deemed important. “What makes you think I like another man ogling at you? Had I known that kind of a man is teaching you I wouldn’t have let you go! You even found him hot, too - you admitted it,” he added in a menacing tone, his eyes shining with anger.

Baekhyun wasn’t jealous often, that was true. He was a man who could keep it together and mostly, if he caught another guy staring at you, he’d feel pride because you were always his. Ever since you entered womanhood you were his. But now, the way your trainer just pushed himself into your private life and knew too much, he didn’t like it one bit.

“I was trying to tease you!” You snapped loudly. “Because you’re so busy with working that I just wanted some attention from you! I only ever want your eyes on me, not another man’s!” You inhaled, feeling your eyes burning up. “And yes, it feels nice to be appreciated by someone else. You have women staring at you whenever we as much as go grocery shopping and it makes me feel so stupid. You’re dressing up to impress your students, Baekhyun, and if you think all your lady students are innocently looking at you, you’re wrong. And I trusted you with Jiyoung-“

“I never gave you a reason to doubt me with Jiyoung,” growled Baekhyun through gritted teeth but you didn’t cower. You had a lot to say out of nowhere.

“I don’t care. You were busy with her enough. I met Junho twice and he got overly attached. That isn’t my fault and you shouldn’t be punishing me for that!”

“I’m not punishing you, I’m worried about you,” he emphasized, growing frustrated at your attitude. “You were very fast to jump to ridiculous conclusions when you first saw Jiyoung yet I never said anything to attack you! And I don’t care what my students think about me! One thing is to have a crush, another is to actually talk with someone who likes you and even make stupid promises to them and giving them false hopes!”

“I didn’t promise him anything, Baekhyun, I just said-“

“-that you’ll see him soon!” he shouted, now fully angry. 

“You wouldn’t be like this if you trusted me!”

“We ended up at a fucking hospital because you were so fucking jealous of me having a female colleague! Talk about trust now, huh?!”

That one hit you. His sharp words, that were specifically crafted against you, hurt you. Surely, he didn’t mean it but he said it and he used your weak pregnancy state against you in an inappropriate manner.

“Right. And I suffered through eight months of painful pregnancy because I fucked myself, right?!” you spit and stood up, storming away from him.

“Come back here, young lady! Right now!” You heard Baekhyun stand up as well, his hands on his hips as he saw your retreating figure. You rarely swore, so he understood the situation was bad.

But you didn’t listen. Without realizing, you ran into your shared bedroom and started stripping, wanting to get out of the house. You were infuriated at the argument when you already told him everything before Junho’s unexpected visit. He wasn’t supposed to be getting mad about something out of your control.

Quickly putting on a light summer dress, you tied your hair up and headed out with your small purse and wallet.

Baekhyun saw you pass him, headed for the door and he followed you right away. “Where are you going?! It’s hot outside and I’m not done talking to you!”

“I’m done talking to you!” you seethed as you put on your sandals. “You take care of the babies. It wasn’t because of them I ended up in the hospital, so you shouldn’t be mad at them for giving me a hard time. Blame the friggin jealousy or whatever!”

With that you turned, opening the door. You heard Baekhyun’s exasperated exhale before the door slammed shut.

</3

You went for a short walk before the heat, combined with suffocating humidity, chased you into a cafe, seeking refuge in their air-conditioned, cozy space. You weren’t drinking coffee for obvious reasons but you needed a little kick and iced americano was the cheapest option for your wallet. With a defeated, heavy sigh, you ordered the coffee, pleasantly surprised when the kind bartender gave you a small cookie as a gift to your beverage. You must have looked like death if someone a little younger than you could recognize your emotions mirroring on your face.

You thought Baekhyun would be bombarding you with messages like he started to do since the birth of the munchkins but he wasn’t. He was overly worried about your whereabouts when you were with the triplets. Maybe now he was trying to give you space like you indirectly asked for.

At least you could think over what happened. You still felt hurt and, frankly, you were still ignited with passion about him being jealous. He didn’t like someone else telling you you were pretty. You could understand, of course you could. But him wanting to prevent you from going back to the gym was just annoying.

Your whole life Baekhyun was the only one you had eyes for. He was fast to try to pursue you; it was a mutual crush, a mutual attraction later on. You never got to experience other boys or men, you never even had a kiss with someone else. Baekhyun had you completely to himself since you were an old enough of a teenager and, honestly, he didn’t have to fight for you. It wasn’t like you had competition going on around you. There were a lot of crazy moments but he knew he could get you, and he did. So now, when someone else showed interest, it was a little foreign to you and to him, too. That was the point you didn’t like. He wasn’t used to having to fight for you. He wasn’t used to having to prove himself to you because you were that simple of a girl and now a woman. Baekhyun was Baekhyun and that was an argument no other boy could ever win over. Ever.

Suddenly, you felt like crying. Baekhyun was taking you for granted. Maybe you were too comfortable too and didn’t realize how easily your life could change if he weren’t by your side. But you still burned with anger when he wouldn’t trust you and would want to hide you, tuck away from curious eyes because you tried to get back on the normal track after being pregnant and so busy with triplets.

He had it easy, you thought bitterly as you swallowed an equally bitter sip of americano. He still had his too-perfect body. He could still continue his professional life. He was never sacked for being a woman that was soon to be a mother. He was never harassed at work for his gender. And yet, when you finally could taste a bit of life, he’d want to take it away.

You scoffed out loud, unaware of other customers giving you a worried look as you gulped down the coffee. Unfortunately, your little time to think had to come to a quick and very disappointing end. The pressure was there for a while now and you were irresponsible enough to ignore it but you definitely couldn’t afford that anymore. Wetness was slowly making its way in your bra, the textile too thin and therefore quickly leaking to your summer dress. Soon enough, it would start dripping.

Unhappily groaning to yourself, you quickly went to the bathroom, unable to make a dash for your home because you walked quite off your neighbourhood. You’d need at least ten minutes and when the breast milk was leaking, we were talking about seconds.

Following the typical process, you yanked down your shirt along with your bra, letting the strong stream spring free, painting the surroundings white. With a scrunched up face, you could only look and wait.

</3

You came home more than two hours later. Tears staining your cheeks, you were exhausted and tired. An old lady shouted at you for keeping the toilet busy and then you had to ask for help from the staff, hoping they would borrow you a shirt to cover up until you got home, your dress completely ruined. This Saturday sucked in every possible way. And now you had to face Baekhyun. You already decided you would ignore him but you were also dreading the duty of tending to your little ones. You really couldn’t do it. Not in that moment, and not in that emotional state.

The apartment was quiet and the blinders were let down half-way to block out the strong summer sun heating up the place. You peeked in the babies’ room, just to find it empty. Sighing, your nose prickled again and you locked yourself up in the guest bathroom, desperately needing a shower. Baekhyun must have taken the kids out, you thought.

Scrubbing your skin clean, you were only satisfied when the shampoo would completely take over your senses. With tears rolling down your cheeks, you did small massaging circles into the stretch marks painting your breasts, tummy, backside, and thighs. Maybe if you tried hard enough, they’d disappear. You tried hard enough during pregnancy.

Finally, you turned the water off and brought a clean towel around your body, feeling a little better. Your eyes were swollen, that couldn’t have been helped.

You trudged around the apartment, finding everything motionless and quiet until you looked into the bedroom, finally spotting your precious family on the bed, each of them peacefully sleeping. Baekhyun had his back to the door and he made a little barrier around the babies so if they wanted to explore some new body movements they wouldn’t fall.

You didn’t know how he managed it when you felt like everything was a mess when you were with them alone. You left for more than two hours and he seemed like he barely broke a sweat.

You contemplated your next moves; should you wake him? You needed a change of clothes anyway.

Tiptoeing inside, you went to the walk-in closet, finding a clean, nursing shirt before you slid into it and left the small space. Baekhyun was fast to turn his head, his eyes looking wide-awake as if he never slept in the first place.

He saw your puffy cheeks and swollen eyes and it tugged on his heart. “Sweetheart,” he whispered almost inaudibly, reaching his hand out to you.

You were looking at him and at his outstretched hand, the ring on it shining.

I’m sorry, you wanted to say. Let’s not fight, you wanted to add. But his hurtful words came back to you, and you realized that it really wasn’t your place to apologize. It wasn’t your place to apologize about failing as a mother, either. It was only natural that you made mistakes. It was situations like those that made you realize quite a difficult reality: nobody knew what they were doing as parents. Your own parents never knew what they were doing. Baekhyun’s parents never knew what they were doing; something went right and something went wrong. You were allowed to make mistakes; as long as you learned from them.

Baekhyun saw your troubled eyes and he slowly sat up, eventually moving to stand in front of you. “I’m sorry,” he breathed quietly, his eyebrows scrunching up in worry when you kept staring at him, wordlessly.

You licked your dry lips, averting your gaze. “Let’s talk outside,” you murmured and walked over to the door. You quickly checked whether the babies were still sleeping and whether the barrier was strong enough and you left, not waiting for Baekhyun who grabbed the baby monitor.

Taking a glass, you filled it with water, needing the liquid in your parched mouth. Anxiety was eating you up and you were exhausted. You hoped Baekhyun would say the right words, for you couldn’t bear another fight.

“I’m sorry,” he said as soon as he reappeared, going straight to you. He held your waist gently while his free hand put the monitor down on the counter. He was quick to hold you with his other hand as well. “I was mad. I am still mad,” he said, desperately searching your gaze. “I’m not sorry for being jealous because I can’t bear the idea of another man looking at you the way he did and the way only I am allowed to look. But I’m sorry for taking my anger out on you and I’m sorry for making you feel like a caged woman and mother. It shouldn’t be like that and I told you several times that I’d never want you to become one but-“ he sighed, shaking his head gently as he looked on the floor before bringing his eyes back up to yours, “I unconsciously made it like that and I feel guilty.”

If you were an anime character, huge, diamond-like tears would be brimming your eyes, making you look incredibly cute but also incredibly heart-broken. Baekhyun apologized and admitted to his wrong doings and it made you relieved.

“Baby, say something,” he urged you breathily and brought his hand up to your cheeks. You were wordlessly staring at him with bulging eyes and he was growing anxious with each second.

“Please don’t talk like that anymore,” you finally whispered after trying to control the lump in your throat. “You know I tried my best while being pregnant and that one time-“

“Shh, shh, no, don’t talk about it,” he said quietly with urgency in his voice. He shook his head as he spoke. “That was the stupidest shit I’ve ever said and I’m sorry. Completely uncalled for… I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He pressed his forehead against yours, letting his eyes close.

You breathed out and finally let your hands rest on his sides, feeling his ribs underneath. Following him, you closed your eyes as well. “It hurt.”

“I know,” he whispered as he nuzzled his nose against yours, eyes still closed. “I’m such a fucking dumbass. You suffered so much because of me; I made you pregnant and I made you go through hell and… Shit, I’m sorry.” When he talked like that, with his breath on your lips and the tip of his nose brushing against yours, you couldn’t help but melt, gradually forgetting every bad and unexpected thing that happened. Instead, you breathed in his gentle scent and enjoyed his close proximity. His thumbs brushed under your eyes and just then you realized the tears were rolling down your cheeks and his hands. “Jesus, if I make you cry any more I swear I’ll never forgive myself,” murmured Baekhyun against your lips and you opened your eyes just to find him staring intently at you, his eyes scrunched in worry, much more puppy-like then they usually were. He slid his hand over your cheek and ear until he rested it on the back of your head, bringing you into a sensual hug. He was fast to hide his face in the crook of your neck and you pressed your forehead against his shoulder.

You stood like that for a few minutes, until Baekhyun was sure you calmed down. “Thank you for giving me space.”

“Of course. Just don’t leave like that next time,” he muttered in your ear. “I was worried and it’s hot outside and-“ he was fast to pull away from you, holding you by your upper arms. “What about your breast milk? You didn’t even pump…” he trailed off when he saw how your face fell. Shaking your head, you were hoping it would tell him just enough, the memory of the elderly lady scolding you bringing a fresh set of tears into your eyes.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he cooed with pity, once again embracing you, this time more tightly, wanting to console you. Baekhyun knew how sensitive you could get. It must have been an unpleasant situation. “You go through so much shit and yet I only make it worse.”

“No!” This time, you pulled away. “It isn’t like that Baekhyun. You’re a new professor, it’s not like you can do as you please. And,” you shrugged, “I’m glad you care enough to be jealous.”

“What kind of expression is that?” Baekhyun looked puzzled as he wiped your cheeks with his thumbs, eventually brushing your hair behind your ear while you shrugged again. “I always care. If it’s you, I’m always interested and I always want to know. I always want to protect you. Junho is a guy and I know how guys are, baby.”

“I just… don’t want you to take me for granted.”

Baekhyun gasped, horrified, somehow making him look surprised. “No, no, I would never-“ he stopped himself, hurt and guilt flashing in his eyes. “Have I made you feel that way?”

“No, but…”

“But?”

With a sigh, you shook your head. “It’s not important. Actually it’s stupid. Forget that I said it.”

“No, explain-“

Baby whimpers interrupted your discussion and, for some reason, you felt relieved. With a small smile, you stepped back from him. “Not important.”

“Sweetheart,” his arms chased after you and he grabbed you just in time before you could completely walk out of his personal space. The whimpers were gradually increasing and changing into dissatisfied cries. Baekhyun didn’t care though and he brought you back to him, pecking you on the lips. “I want to finish this talk later.” His hand sneaked around your lower back, his hand sliding over your bum, unintentionally bringing fire into your insides.

“Okay,” you whispered bewitched as you watched his parted lips.

He hummed and kissed you longer, his hand caressing your bum cheek. With a smooch, he separated. “Okay.”

<3

As usual, the both of you got preoccupied with the daily tasks. You spend hours breastfeeding while Baekhyun prepared food for the both of you, not having enough time to chat like he really wanted to.

He was mad about the way you felt and he was mad about himself. What did he do that wrong that you had such thoughts? If Junho and his liking towards you made you feel that way…

He shook his head as he was checking his phone, not really processing what he was looking at; an important email that needed his immediate tending, yet he couldn't bring himself to focus. When you appeared from the bathroom, only in a shirt, he let his eyes roam over your body, and then up to your messy hair and tired, but still beautiful face.

It was simple moments like these when he just craved you. He tried to suppress it, but the happenings of the day had him thinking a little differently and he was going crazy at the idea of Junho even thinking he had a chance with you. Of course he didn’t. You were married, for Christ’s sake. You were his, completely.

You slipped under the covers, sighing a little, satisfied. The temperature of the room was just perfect to have the shirt on and still be warm enough under the sheets. With eyes wide open you turned on your side, facing Baekhyun like an eager kitty. Baekhyun, sensing your intense stare, looked at you, the phone screen now dark from the inactivity and he smiled handsomely.

“Come cuddle,” you requested, inching your hand to his thigh under the covers. “Let’s enjoy the small peace.”

Baekhyun didn’t have to be told twice especially because it was coming from you. He put his phone on the bedside table and turned off the light, quickly turning to you.

You scooted over a bit too fast, just as Baekhyun was about to rest his head on the pillow; your lips brushed and you gasped, giggling.

“Just say you want a kiss,” murmured Baekhyun with a teasing tone, his own hand now resting on your hip. “I’d give you one anyway,” he added and dipped his head, pecking you repeatedly a few times. He grinned when he heard your silent squeal but you reciprocated each of his loving kisses. “Mmm, my baby.” His hand tightened as it inched further up, sensually caressing your ribs and the side of your breast, bunching up your shirt in the process. It had your breath hitch in your throat and desire grew in your tummy at once. Ever since you made up in the kitchen and his simple caress on your backside ignited passion in you, you couldn’t stop thinking about the moment you could share a little love with him. You couldn't get him out of your mind. Not while breastfeeding and watching him cook with his wide back turned towards you, not while washing the munchkins in the bathroom, both of you wet but smiley, and not now, when he was there, right next to you.

“Baekhyun,” you breathed, affected already. His hum made the hair on your neck stand. Your hand was on his cheek as your lips brushed against his. “Make love to me tonight.”

His caressing stopped only for a heartbeat before it resumed, not showing the way your gently uttered words affected him. “Hm, baby, if I do, I will be rough.” He rasped in a low voice. “I just don’t think I can control myself tonight, angel. Not after what happened.”

At that, your palms became sweaty and you eagerly scooted even closer, wanting to press your middle to his. “Then show me what you have in mind.”

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

A/N: sorry, Im cutting it here because the next chapter will have mature content and I want to separate it from the chapters that have development so that those of you who are uncomfortable with M wont miss out :S hope thats okay! Also, if you read Mess We Made and see some similarities - there are. After all, Mess We Made is a super angsty au of Simply Yours. ^^

Lastly, the angst is far from over lol. There angsty days are coming. ^^ and the last “lastly”, Always Yours will have most probably more chapters than I intended. Depends on how much Ill manage to write and squeeze into chapters during my semester. Thank you ^^

[hufflautia]

A Hidden Darkness

A/N: I wish I had thought of this idea in time for Halloween.

Warnings: This story is a little creepy and has something to do with the supernatural. If you are not comfortable with that kind of stuff, avoid this fic. 

Dedicated to @sophiexteresa; thank you for helping me out with British slang :’) 

Summary: Slytherin notices that Hufflepuff is acting strange...a little too strange. 

Boom!

Ravenclaw immediately drew back from the table, laughing as he pointed at Slytherin; the mini-explosion singed the edges of his hair. 

“Bloody hell,” Slytherin grumbled, gingerly rubbing his slightly-burned face. “This game is a load of bollocks.” 

He raised an eyebrow as he gathered the remaining cards. “Mate, you were the one who wanted to play Exploding Snap.” 

“Yeah, because I wanted the cards to explode in your face.” 

Ravenclaw rolled his eyes and grabbed a handful of popcorn, chucking it at him. 

Slytherin managed to block the attack with his hand, but some landed on his shoulder. As he brushed the popcorn off, he suddenly felt something prodding at the back of his neck. It felt like someone was...sniffing his hair? 

He turned around and saw Hufflepuff standing there, her face so close to his that he could feel her breath. “Hey,” he smiled, not registering the fact that it was likely she who just sniffed him. “Alright?” 

Hufflepuff gave him a blinding smile and grabbed his hand. “I need you,” she replied, tugging him out of his chair. 

“But I’m—” 

“Playing cards with Ravenclaw? You can do that later.” 

As she led him out of the Great Hall, Slytherin wondered how she knew what he was gonna say. He brushed it off quickly; she could clearly see what they were doing. However, something was definitely strange about her. Hufflepuff would usually greet Ravenclaw kindly if she saw him, but she barely spared him a second glance. 

Hufflepuff came to a stop after they passed through the entrance of the Great Hall and turned to face him. “I need to ask you something.” 

“Why couldn’t you just ask me before?” 

“Because Ravenclaw was there.” 

He frowned and said, “But you’ve never had a problem with him before.” 

She made a face at him. “He’s an ickle know-it-all. Should’ve socked him in the face, I should.” 

He was taken aback—Hufflepuff never behaved like this. She was always sweet and kind, but she was the complete opposite now. 

“What’s up with you,” he asked. “You’re acting like a completely different person. And ickle? You’ve never said that before.” 

She glared at him. “People change, Slytherin. Besides, I didn’t bring you out there just for you to berate me.” Her tone was calm, but Slytherin could sense the repressed hostility hidden beneath her words. 

She seemed to realize that he was staring at her strangely because, in the next moment, she suddenly straightened up and smiled at him widely. "But no reason to fuss about it any longer," she cooed in an oily voice, pinching his cheek. "You're here now, and that's all that matters." 

Slytherin studied her face and immediately picked up on the fact that her smile was forced. "Right then," he said slowly, still put off by her demeanor. "What was it you wanted to ask?" 

Her expression immediately darkened, and she stepped forward. He fought the urge to take a step back. What was going on with him? This was his girlfriend he was dealing with. She never meant any harm...so why did he feel so uneasy? Her next words sent chills down his spine. 

"Would you be able to tell if someone—no, if something were to possess my body?" 

Slytherin stared at her, hoping that she would crack a smile and burst out laughing, saying that it was just a prank and she successfully fooled him. 

However, she did no such thing. Instead, she stared at him with those dark eyes that he usually found endearing, but there was a coldness to them. An emptiness. 

"I..." He trailed off, unsure of what to say. What could he say? A feeling of discomfort festered within him, and he spoke again. “Uh, maybe? I think it'd be obvious if you started climbing on the walls or something.” 

Nodding, Hufflepuff seemed to mull over his answer before her face broke into a huge smile. “Alrighty then.” She suddenly plucked a piece of popcorn that had been lying in the collar of his shirt and popped it in her mouth. “Can I watch you play Exploding Snap with Ravenclunk?”  

“I thought you didn’t like Ravenclunk.” 

“I wanna see the cards explode in his face,” she shrugged. 

Slytherin hummed a laugh, momentarily forgetting how unusual she was acting, and began leading her back into the Great Hall. He felt a tug at his hand and turned back, only for Hufflepuff to smash her face onto his. 

The kiss was rough and sloppy, an alarming contrast to how they normally kissed. Drawing his bottom lip between her teeth, she bit down hard enough to make him pull away abruptly. He gingerly touched his lip and found his fingers to be stained with blood. He looked back up at her, shocked.  

A bit of his blood smeared across her teeth, she smiled coyly. “Sorry,” she said, not sounding sorry in the slightest bit. “You know I get carried away sometimes…” 

Slytherin didn’t respond and simply stood there like a statue, face awash with horror as he stared at her. 

“I’ve gotta go now. I have lots to do today.” With that, she ambled away, leaving Slytherin standing there and looking as if he had just seen a ghost. 

Hufflepuff wandered through the corridors, letting her hands brush against the cobblestone wall as she inhaled the sweet smell drifting from the Kitchens.  

I have to admit, the voice cackled. This is quite luxurious. It’s interesting to be human for once. Smell, taste, touch. I have much to explore.   

Please, Hufflepuff begged, trapped within the confines of her body against her own will. Let me go! 

Peeves laughed gleefully inside her mind. 

But I’m having so much fun.

FIN.

~

Check out my masterlist! | Kind comments and reblogs are most appreciated :)

Author’s note: 

This may be my least favorite fic out of all that I have written. Last night, when I was writing it, I didn’t feel happy and a part of me wanted to discard what I wrote so far because I was like “jessica this is so dumb” but I didn’t wanna throw out what I wrote so far. I’m not even sure if Peeves is able to possess someone’s body, and after I finished writing, I thought “well what if I keep it ambiguous and it’s just some random demon?”. However, I had done some research on how Peeves talks, hence the “ickly”, and I didn’t wanna take out the hints of Hufflepuff not really being Hufflepuff. In addition, it doesn’t seem very hogwarts-like or harry potter related if it were just a random demon. That’s why I thought Filch to be the best option. I thought of this idea yesterday when my sister was acting creepy while we were in the bathroom in the morning. I was brushing my teeth and she was on the toilet, and she straightup looked at me with dead eyes and asked “Would you be able to tell if a demon possessed me?” and I was like

She was twitching and everything, and as I was walking out of the bathroom, she came up right behind me and SNIFFED MY HAIR. Yea, so that was my inspiration for this fic. My initial idea for the ending was that as Hufflepuff walks back with Slytherin to the table, her eyes glow a little and she smiles wickedly. However, I was like hmmmm what if she bits his lips and he bleeds a little?.. Yea, don’t ask me why I thought that. I don’t think I would ever write a fic that includes that bit because slytherpuff doesn’t have that rough-love type of vibe, so I just thought, oh whatever might as well do that now when I have the chance.  

In other news, happy March! This is gonna be the month in which I get the rest of my college results and I am a little nervous. Also, I’m going to go on a hiatus because I feel myself going down a spiral right now and it’s likely because my period is coming😀😀😀😀😀😀😀😀😀😀What fun, am I right??? I get bad PMS, so I’m just gonna leave and focus on my own wellbeing for some time because I tend to get depressed during my period. I might write a bunch of stories and then come out from the dark and then post consistently. I think I am kind of posting consistently already; I have never posted as many fics as I had in February, which is interesting and hopefully not a once-in-a-lifetime thing because I’m done with the college process but now I also have to deal with my own issues in terms of mental health and stuff. It sucks but I will get better. 

I hope you enjoyed reading this fic. Let me know what you think! 

Tags: slytherpuff-shenanigans @axieleration @sunnniiee @just--another--bean​ @determinedpines @zenobiagrace @asterinflower @cinnamon-roll-unicorn @mossy-axolotl @dumbbitch11 @hitchhiker-of-the-galaxy @notsowiseravenclaw  @arianatorpotterhead @eatacrackerandstop @luciferswife16 @walkinganomaly @asunshinepuff @lewispoolerpayton @adreameratdawn @thewitcheswords @oncergleekpotterhead @princessstoopid @stardustzainy @flvrqnce @multi-fandom-nutjob @eunnieah @iamahufflepuff @1hufflepuff @introvertedrae @princessstoopid @jasminedayz @magnoliamermaid @HOPEFUL-HUFFLEPUFF-PEEVES @peanut-in-the-goal @pufflehuff929 @sophiexteresa @da-fox-rangerrr @dawinehouse @shipping-book-keeper @xxavaloraxx @silverhetdanes @im-a-solanum-lycopersicum @elegantcroissantplaidpony @theoriginaljohnwatsonsblog @theoriginalsherlockholmesblog @vickeyunicorn @arianatorpotterhead @hmilkwhoney @simpering-simpleton @grandcyclecreation @sweetinvisiblewriter @marvelenthusiast10 @mvlpksvthisht @qiaopa @beardedhumanoid @jadefox05 @justanotherperson @inkedintothepaper @minty-malfoy @trippy-morgan @fangirlgeekandfreak @boilyourteeth @absentmindeduniverse @colettedelaurel @halfelven1 @happy-puff @coloring-bud @in-love-with-remus-lupin @autumnpleaves @crakencc @flyme--tothemoon @hedgepuffgirl @littleemotionalpanda @pancakes-and-sugar @korra4321 @aquietkindofthunder @qixnsriess @porksoba @thatfann @hellounicorn @i-have-a-bad-feeling @aasa2102 @zuko-28 @annie-mcl @clementines-x @writtenfoxscreams @randomwriter23 @cryingabtwandavision @coolninjavoid @urfaveslytherin @malfoys-demigod @tumlbr-trasher @violayaxley @wolfpack-arts-industries99 @zainieees-stuff @milk-leaves @priii @capt-sparrow @blueberry-9-pancakes @stressy-depressy   

[hualianff]

Untethered III 《II》

Hold On – Park Yun Seo

White noise rings through Xie Lian’s ears, replacing the brutal assaults of battle until they fade away into the background. Beads of rain make contact with Xie Lian’s face, soaking his hairline and his clothes. But nothing else matters in this moment besides the ring Crimson Rain holds hostage, away from Xie Lian’s heart.

“It’s common courtesy to answer when someone asks a question, little Prince,” the pirate captain sings, pulling tighter on the ring until the chain feels like it’s going to snap.

“No!” Xie Lian gasps worriedly. His hands fly to grasp the ring, effectively unhooking it from Crimson Rain’s sword, but cutting his right hand in the process. Blood immediately oozes from the small wound, cleansed by the rain and sliding down to splash onto the deck.

Xie Lian grimaces while inspecting his hand. His other palm closes around the ring protectively, pressing the cool surface to his lips. The prince unconsciously closes his eyes, memories flooding his mind, letting through five year’s worth of forbidden euphoria.

He envisions the grungy tavern on the outskirts of the Kingdom of Xianle, where Shi Qingxuan had convinced him to sneak out to explore outside the palace walls. He can taste the muskiness in the air, hear the drunken pandemonium. Shi Qingxuan had eventually gone off to gamble–particularly well-versed in wagering despite being of nobility status–leaving Xie Lian sitting at the bar alone, unsure of what to order.

Xie Lian remembers a mysterious figure taking the seat to his left, draped in a red overcoat with an eyepatch covering his right eye. The stranger did not hesitate to call the bartender over, ordering two beverages with a slight lilt in his baritone voice. Xie Lian awkwardly fixed his gaze onto his glass of iced tap water, hoping his common robes, untied hair, and makeup-less face would go unrecognized.

That, and the fact that he had no experience ordering or drinking alcohol, even at twenty-years-old.

The bartender brought over the eye-patched man’s drinks, setting them down with a thunk! Xie Lian was content to watch for the stranger’s drinking partner from his peripheral vision, perhaps even pick up on how to drink in the proper manner. He would be damned if he didn’t learn one useful thing during this night of freedom.

However, Xie Lian was not prepared for the man to grab one glass and slide it in his direction. Xie Lian froze in his seat, sitting with his back ram-rod straight, hands neatly placed in his lap. Should he kindly refuse the offer? Unsupervised drinking was certainly risky. Or should he take a cautious sip? He would think that was the polite thing to do.

But before Xie Lian could react, the man casually angled his body towards him, leaning his elbow on the bar and propping his face with his palm.

His next words made Xie Lian’s heart come to a complete halt.

“Good evening, Your Highness.”

Xie Lian’s memories abruptly shift, and he is transported to the day when he first saw Ghost Ship. It appeared out of nowhere, easily twice the size of the traveling ship Xie Lian had taken to a neighboring kingdom. When the royal guards jumped to attack, Xie Lian simply held a hand up, stopping them in their tracks.

The prince walked to the side of his ship, assessing the Ghost Ship with keen eyes. Ghost Ship was traveling at a faster speed, quickly passing the royal ship by with no intention of initiating battle. When the better half of its length sailed beyond Xie Lian’s sight, the man steering the wheel came into view. As if in slow motion, Xie Lian locked eyes with the man, who donned familiar red and an eyepatch, and also wore a signature captain’s hat.

A captain. A pirate captain, Xie Lian remembers thinking, captivated by those broad shoulders, tattooed skin, and eccentric clothes. The same pirate captain circles in on him like a hungry shark, scimitar scraping along his arms and back, tearing the drenched fabric of his robes.

“Who knew the Prince of Xianle cares so much for a plain piece of metal?” Crimson Rain continues spitting his words like poison.

Xie Lian curls in on himself, trembling.

When pirates began uncharacteristically wreaking havoc on the docks of Xianle’s ports, Xie Lian often rushed to the scene to fend them off himself. Specifically, a pirate who could give Xie Lian a run for his money when it came to sword fighting, but always escaping with an evil smirk painted across his lips.

When Xie Lian had nearly drowned, those same lips had pressed against his own to breathe air into his lungs.

That had been his first kiss.

A few months later, Xie Lian had snuck out of the palace once again to the very same dock at the end of the port, where a certain pirate awaited him.

The images flitting through his mind now blur together, becoming unrecognizable except for the sensations imprinted on his body.

A warm body claiming him in a king-sized bed, among silken sheets and the pale glow of the moonlight streaming through the window. It was almost too dark to make out the man on top.

Almost.

One lust-filled eye bore down at Xie Lian.

“You like that, Your Highness?” the baritone voice growled into his ear.

Xie Lian hears his answering moan play inside his head and inhales sharply.

Between the secret meetings came secret letters specially addressed to the prince. They appeared with the changing winds, anonymously delivered under the pretense of confidential mail sent from other royalty. But no one could imitate that atrocious handwriting, nor invoke the same joy from Xie Lian when seeing his favorite red, butterfly seal.

Isabella’s Lullaby – Takahiro Obata

“It’s from someone special,” Xie Lian grits out, hanging his head low. The ring–presented to him with the most tender gaze and gentle hands–symbolizes hope. A promise of unconditional love.

“Trust me,” a low whisper ghosted against Xie Lian’s temple. “I’ll come back for you.”

And Xie Lian believed him.

That was one year ago. The spontaneous visits stopped, and so did the carefully crafted letters. With no one to confide in, Xie Lian spiraled down underneath everyone’s expectations and his own realized failure. He had been foolish. Blind. Naive.

Within that one-year period, Xie Lian lost faith.

Not in his love. Never in his love.

But in destiny. In free will. In god.

The one thing, one person, he needed most in this lifetime, was no longer within his reach.

Until now.

“Where will you run now, dear Prince?” Crimson Rain’s voice brings Xie Lian back to the present. His eye holds none of the familiar warmth it once did when he slipped the very same silver ring onto Xie Lian’s finger.

The rumbling and squeaking of footsteps make their way towards the pair, Xie Lian’s royal guards abandoning the protection of the ship to come to their prince’s aid instead. But even as Xie Lian gazes up at Crimson Rain’s, brandishing that strong jaw and classy smirk, the prominent eye patch, and the shimmering eye that radiates insanity, Xie Lian feels a certain sense of peace wash over him.

It’s finally time.

Xie Lian gives the pirate captain a hostile smirk of his own, taking out the white ribbon holding up his hair and letting the rain weigh down his brunet locks.

“Hua Cheng,” Xie Lian croons knowingly, widening his eyes in faux innocence. The instant look of surprise on Crimson Rain’s face is all Xie Lian needs before kicking the pirate’s sword to the side, scattering it a few meters away. Xie Lian dives for the exact sword, adjusting to the new weight and shape of the weapon. His palm throbs where the cut splits further open, blood staining the hilt.

Xie Lian swiftly points the sword at Hua Cheng’s jugular, their positions now switched.

Now, it is the pirates who are yelling chaotically, demanding their captain not let a rotten prince get the best of him. Hua Cheng simply clicks his tongue, signaling his men to retreat.

“Your Highness...” the pirate captain murmurs. Xie Lian digs the sword more insistently into Hua Cheng’s skin, forcing the pirate back. Xie Lian herds him onto the official plank, where traitors are typically executed, sentenced by the prince himself.

“Back. Up,” is all Xie Lian offers bitterly, his long hair curtaining his face, body still tense even though he has the upper hand. Hua Cheng holds his hands up in surrender, his hair drenched with rain, the long braid crooked where it cascades down his right shoulder.

“Xie Lian,” Hua Cheng addresses in a sweeter tone. “My dear Prince, if you could see yourself now.”

Xie Lian swallows thickly.

“You are a beautiful sight,” Hua Cheng rasps out, no more than a whisper. Yet, Xie Lian catches every word, and his heart clenches painfully.

Of course, Hua Cheng would think that.

Xie Lian’s sword wavers, but only because the pouring rain has stolen every bit of warmth as it washes down his body, making him shiver. The prince knows everyone’s attention is on them, the royal guards cheering their prince on in hopes that this conflict will end in their victory.

But they remain unaware of their biggest defeat.

The Prince of Xianle had fallen in love with a pirate.

With an unbearably heavy heart, Xie Lian draws his sword back. Tears leak out of his eyes and stream down his face, mixing in with the rain. In this very moment, Xie Lian feels the most suffocated he’s ever been, and wonders if this is truly what it feels like to be on the brink of death.

As if it happens in slow motion, Xie swings the sword with all the power he possesses. Hua Cheng’s arms stretch open in vulnerability, lips forming into a small, understanding smile.

“Gege.”

Something inside Xie Lian shatters. The familiar term of endearment is for Xie Lian’s ears only. His heart pounds against his rib cage with the ferocity of an imprisoned soul, screaming at Xie Lian to ask not what he would wish for in death, but what is he willing to live for?

The answer is right in front of him.

“I’m back.”

《Bonus I》

[mortedeveles]

broken bones & broken hearts.

Copyright © 2021 by Veles. Do NOT repost, plagiarize, or read my content as ASMR or audiofics.

SUMMARY: At the end of the day, you realize that as best friends or lovers, Oikawa Tooru and you are never meant to be together. 

PAIRING: Tooru Oikawa x fem!reader. 

THEMES: ANGST- just angst, romance, childhood friends to lovers. [ONE-SHOT] [CUPID’S ARROW WRITING EVENT] 

WORD COUNT: 5.7K (around 5744 words)

TAG’S AND TW’S: mental health issues, angst themes, breaking up, relationship issues, neglection, mentions of injuries & blood, somewhat suggestive content (sex is mentioned like once)

before you read (!!!): This one-shot is part of the writing event, Cupid’s Arrow!! You can find the masterlist as my pinned post on my blog :) If you’re interested in more Valentine’s Day themed works, please make sure to check it out!! 

SUPPORT YOUR CONTENT CREATORS! REBLOG! <3 

You should’ve known that falling in love with Oikawa was a clear mistake. It was written in harsh bold letters, a dreadful red that was anything but forgettable. Before becoming your lover, he was your friend. And you should’ve kept it at that. 

But then again, you weren’t the quickest at sensing danger; from pulling your hand away from the roaring flames. You lingered, and waited, didn’t move until you felt the scorching heat of the fire on your delicate skin until you were burnt, the pain spreading throughout your body, like venom seeping into your veins. 

You were his friend for years. You should’ve known how committed he was to volleyball, what extent he’d go for the sport. He poured his entire life, sweat, tears, and blood into it. Volleyball was his priority; but so were you. Or at least, that’s what you tried to tell yourself. 

But as volleyball began to consume his life, spreading like a wildfire throughout his mind, the Oikawa you knew began to change. 

The beautiful and mesmerizing roses that adorned his soul began to rot and fall until all that was left were dozens of thorns, deadly and painful. Leaving you to cry over rotten petals. He would spend less and less time with you, postponing dates and forgetting important events. And suddenly, you weren’t a priority in his life anymore. 

Left you tugging at the other side of the rope, tugging with all your strength and willpower, only for him to drop the other end completely. Abandoned in static silence, with nothing but heartbreak and tears.

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Tooru was never good at keeping promises. 

I’ll make it to tonight’s date, I promise, he told you with a brief kiss before heading out. 

He didn’t make it. Left you sitting alone in a fancy restaurant, dressed up because you wanted to impress him tonight, only for him to never show up. You lost the count of how many times you checked your phone’s clock that night, or how many times you called or sent a message. They all went unanswered. 

‘’Where were you?’’ you uttered once the lights flickered on. Sitting in the living room in the dark, you raised an eyebrow when the door swung open. His parents had been out for the weekend, and you had already informed yours that you would spend the night at your boyfriend’s.

Oikawa jumped, before giving you a nervous smile. You quickly assessed his appearance, unsure how to feel. He was in his volleyball uniform, forehead slick with sweat, sporting some bruises on his legs and arms. You didn’t miss the way some of his fingers were taped together, or how his knuckles were stained with dried blood.

‘’You….’’ were at a loss of words. ‘’You ditched me for the tenth time just to...practice volleyball?’’ Your words were nothing but honest, and yet, they were harsh whips of poison on Oikawa’s wounds. He cringed slightly, before swallowing nervously.

‘’I’m sorry, baby,’’ he murmured, ‘’I was going to make it- I swear I was going to, but then I lost track of time and well…’’ 

‘’This happened.’’ You finished the sentence for him, crossing your arms over your chest in disapproval. 

He sighed, lowering his gaze to the floor. ‘’I’m sorry.’’ 

Eyeing his bloody knuckles, you frowned. An exasperated sigh left your lips. With a gentle tug on his upper arm, you took him to the bathroom. He watched you with a questioning look on his face but remained silent.

‘’Your knuckles,’’ you explained. ‘’We need to get them patched up.’’ His eyes softened. 

‘’No, it’s okay,-’’ he held out his hands in protest. ‘’I’m fine. Besides, I should be making it up to you, not like this. Don’t fuss over me, let me take care of you.’’ The determination was clear and loud in his words. A sad smile hung on his lips. 

Pursing your lips before breathing deeply, you insisted on him sitting on the toilet. He sat down with a reluctant frown, eyes following your movements.

‘’You can make it up to me,’’ you agreed. ‘’But after I patch you up, m’kay?’’

‘’Okay,’’ he hummed in agreement. Within a few minutes, you pulled out a medical kit and began to gently dab at his knuckles, kneeling between his open legs. 

The night was quiet, almost gentle, after your small argument. Oikawa merely hummed a song you couldn’t recognize while you mended his hands. After spending a few minutes in silence and being almost done cleaning his wounds, you felt Oikawa’s lips press a kiss on the top of your head. You raised your head, meeting his warm smile and soft eyes. 

‘’Thank you,’’ he murmured. ‘’I know I haven’t been paying enough attention to you… and I’m sorry about that. You don’t deserve that. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.’’ his hand settled beneath your chin, slowly pulling you closer until your lips met.

His warm breath fanned over your lips, every stroke of movement fueling your heart with such intense fondness and familiarity that only Oikawa possessed. His hands cupped the back of your head, fingers rubbing at the base of your neck, while your own crawled and wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer. Lips kept moving, tugging and dancing, until the two of you ran out of breath, slowly breaking apart with heaving chests. His forehead leaned against yours gently. 

‘’I love you,’’ he murmured while rubbing his thumb over your lips. With a content smile, you wrapped your fingers around his thumb, squeezing it tightly.

‘’I love you more, Tooru.’’ And you meant it.

His lips returned to yours, this time attacking with much more fervor and neediness. Within a few seconds, he had your legs locked around his waist, holding you in the air as he sought towards your bedroom. 

And for a few moments, in those moments where your lips couldn’t bear to leave him, when all clothes left your bodies and nothing but soft moans and loving whispers were said, you allowed yourself to forget. Forget all the broken promises, all the disappointments. Forget all the thorns that had stemmed in your relationship, inevitably hurting both of you. Oikawa was in your arms, he was with you, and that was all that mattered. 

You could deal with the ugly thorns later. 

                                ➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

He first asked you out on Valentine’s Day. Now that you look back at it, your heart squeezes at the memory. You loved Oikawa with everything you had. He hadn’t rearranged his priorities yet- volleyball was a part of his life, but had yet to overtake all of it.

It was a hot, sizzling summer. The two of you were nearly done with secondary school and were soon on the way to high school. Specifically, Aoba Johsai. The high school of Oikawa’s dreams. As loyal best friends, you decided to follow him, to support his dreams- and the school also offered a handsome looking program of a career you were highly interested in pursuing. It all worked out. 

Today’s holiday loomed over you like a dark and suffocating cloud. After witnessing Oikawa politely reject several girls- while hopelessly pining after him, it was safe to say your mood wasn’t the best. But he was quick to notice, and since the two of you had no romantic dates for the holiday, decided to go to the local carnival as friends. Just like old times, as best friends and nothing else. Everything troublesome shoved to the side, just to cheer each other up.

‘’Y/N-chan!’’ He called out to you, waving and sending a wide smile. You grinned in response, quickly walking away from the junior high’s building, and racing towards the entrance gate, where Oikawa stood, leaning against the gates. 

‘’Took you long enough,’’ he said teasingly. ‘’Now c’mon, let’s go,’’ without hesitation, he wrapped his arm around your shoulders, the close proximity leaving you to walk along with him with burning cheeks. Not that he noticed, his eyes were on the carnival that was a few minutes away from the school.

‘’I didn’t take that long!’’ You protested, shaking your head. ‘’My teacher was holding us back because we didn’t answer the last question he gave us,’’ you pouted, and the boy laughed loudly. His hand squeezed your shoulder, and your heart thumped loudly at this. You wondered if he could hear it, beating too fast for its own good, desperate to leap out and land in his hands. Wanting to be his. 

To your sides, you heard some of your classmates giggle, and felt dozens of eyes on your hands. Despite what everyone in your school thought, Oikawa and you weren’t dating. And as much as you’d like to, that wasn't your reality.

The two of you simply were affectionate and close with each other, having known each other since the fourth year of elementary, the two of you grew up like a pair of troublesome siblings. But you didn’t see Oikawa that way- no, your heart yearned for him. But anytime your hopes got up, they would immediately be crushed to the ground.

He saw you as a sister, you were sure of it. Heard him talk to Iwazumi, about how you meant so much to him, but as a friend. Nothing less and nothing more. 

It didn’t help that the boy was gorgeous. One of the downsides of being his best friend for years was constantly being approached by shy, giggling girls who asked if you’re his girlfriend- or asking you to deliver him a love letter, bowing their heads before you, eagerly holding out a cute pink envelope. 

‘’Hurry up!’’ Oikawa’s eager voice pulled you out of your thoughts. ‘’I can see the yatai stalls from here, let’s go!’’ He dropped your hand and began to jog towards the food stands, and you laughed briefly, before racing after him. The carnival had set up on the local but wide park, with fields of grass stretching ahead, trees, rocks and flowers littering the ground. 

‘’Last one pays for the food!’’ You said, shooting him a grin as you raced ahead of him. Heard him gasp loudly behind you, before picking up his pace and racing like never before, leaving you in the dust. You stopped for a moment and laughed at his speed, recollecting your breath as you bent over your knees. 

When you raised your head, you chuckled at the sight of Oikawa standing eagerly at a yakitori stand, quickly returning to you, holding two yakitori skewers. The sight of the roasted chicken, seasoned with tare sauce made your mouth water. In a matter of seconds, you ran up to your friend, quickly grabbing one of the yakitori. 

‘’Hey!’’ He protested, but you saw the humor in his eyes. You smiled innocently, biting into the chicken. 

‘’Thank you for paying, Tooru, even though I lost.’’ he shrugged nonchalantly, throwing an arm over your shoulders, the two of you walking away from the food stand. You blended in with the crowd of people, surrounded by food stands, kids running past you and the carnival’s rides echoing in the distance. 

‘’Don’t sweat it. I’ll be your date for today, so I have to be a gentleman, don’t I?’’ He said with a sleazy smile, and you snorted, unamused.

‘’Whatever you say, crappykawa,’’ you crooned and grinned when he gasped, looking genuinely offended.

‘’Who taught you that-?! Was it Iwa-chan?’’ He pouted. He stopped in his tracks, crossing his arms over his chest, looking away from you with a dramatic sigh. 

‘’I can’t believe you call me that too,’’ he grumbled, left shoe tapping against the ground. You fought back the urge to snort and giggle at the same time and instead, watched the boy carry out his dramatic antics with a small smile. 

‘’I’m heartbroken! Truly, I can expect this type of behavior from Iwa-chan, but you-,’’ he pointed his finger at you, emphasizing his point. You let out a stifled giggle. ‘’-I expected better from you, Y/N-chan.’’

With a thoughtful hum, you tapped your finger on your chin, before smiling. ‘’What can I say, Tooru? Iwaizumi has given me some great names for you,’’ with a giggle, you patted his shoulder. ‘’And they really suit you…’’ slowly tensing your body, preparing to race off. ‘’...Shittykawa!’’ You broke into a run, giggling and looking back, watching as Oikawa’s eyes widened before he raced after you.

‘’Hey! Get back here! I’m not done with you yet!’’ You giggled, ignoring the few stares of the other people in the carnival, racing past food stands, without any particular destination, just determined to outrun Oikawa. And by the way you heard footsteps thudding on the floor closely behind you, he was getting closer. So you sped up, forcing your legs to work at a faster pace. The crowd began to disperse the more you ran, leaving behind food stalls and entering a rather empty area of the carnival, nothing but trees and grass in your surroundings, and a few rides, but they were at a considerable distance. 

With a loud squeal, you were tackled onto the soft grass, giggling as Oikawa hovered above you, a smug grin on his face.

‘’Oooh,’’ you cooed. ‘’You caught me, crappykawa!’’ Your laugh grew louder as he groaned in annoyance, dropping his body on top of yours. You let out a loud oomph! as he continued to whine into your shoulder.

‘’Tooru,’’ you complained. ‘’You’re too heavy, get off!’’ With a slightly maniacal laugh, the boy pulled himself up, offering you his hand. You swallowed, and instead rejected his hand and got up on your feet. You missed the flash of hurt in his eyes, and smiled at him awkwardly as you patted your clothes. 

‘’Well then,’’ he looked at you with a smile that made your heart skip a beat. ‘’Let’s have some fun now, shall we?’’ 

The two of you had raced towards every ride possible, screaming your lungs out together, usually leaving the rides with loud giggles and satisfied smiles. Every now and then, your hand would brush against Oikawa’s, and you would meet his gaze. Immediately, you would spring back, face burning. The boy would react similarly, his face flushing as he awkwardly scratched the back of his head.

Soon enough, the bright sky began to slightly darken, and the sun began to set. Touches of warm orange and hints of purple blended with the baby blue, clouds moving positions, opening a path for the sun. 

After the both of you stuffed yourselves with so much food you nearly puked, Tooru pulled you towards the Ferris Wheel. The tall ride was perfect for the occasion; with the sun setting, and the air warm but soothing, it would be quite the sight and experience.

With an excited smile, you sat in one of the compartments with Oikawa, sitting across each other. Your knees brushed against each other, and you watched as your friend’s head bobbed as he swallowed visibly.

Once the two of you were seated, the ride quickly began to move. Gears shifted and the somewhat old infrastructure groaned, which was slightly concerning, but you quickly forgot about it when Oikawa began to talk.

‘’So,’’ he started, ‘’How did you enjoy Valentine’s Day with me?’’ The brown-haired boy gave you a crooked smile, and you gave him a smile of your own.

‘’It was fun. Thanks for spending the day with me Tooru, even if you had the choice to go with one of your fangirls.’’ He laughed at this.

‘’I wouldn’t want to spend the day with anyone else but you, Y/N.’’ Your heart somersaulted, and Oikawa wouldn’t stop staring at you.

‘’You don’t mean that,’’ the words left your lips before you could stop them. At this, Oikawa frowned and leaned closer to you. Your mouth felt dry. Trying to back away, you leaned backward, only to quickly meet the metallic wall of the compartment.

‘’What do you mean?’’ Within a few seconds, the atmosphere shifted. Gone was the playful but serene atmosphere, and was quickly replaced by a tense and stuffy environment. 

You swallowed nervously and looked away, deciding to gaze at the scenery at your left side. Trees swayed beneath you, the carnival full to the brim with people, running, walking, and screaming. The sun gently enveloped you the higher the Ferris Wheel took you, but you didn’t mind.

‘’You’re my best friend, Y/N. What do you mean I wouldn’t want to spend today with you?’’

You could sense confrontation, and it was the last thing you wanted to deal with. Wanted to hop off right away and run away from it. As far as you were concerned, confessing to Oikawa Tooru wasn’t in your agenda anytime soon. 

And yet, here you were. Wetting your lips before letting out a shaky sigh, slowly turning around to meet the boy’s gaze.

‘’That’s the problem,’’ you said in a low voice. ‘’To you, I’m nothing but your best friend. But to me, Tooru, you’re so much more than that. I...I like you, a lot.’’

He was silent for a few heartbeats. That was enough for you to feel rejected, to feel your chest tighten painfully, feeling a wave of painful emotions approach you.

‘’I know you don’t feel the same way,’’ you quickly interjected. ‘’But since you want to know, that’s what I meant.’’ 

The brown-haired boy let out a soft chuckle, and your eyes quickly snapped to his. He was watching you with a confused, but now relieved and soft expression.

‘’And who told you that?’’ Shifting in his seat, you swallowed as Oikawa got closer, his nose nearly brushing against yours.

‘’Told me what?’’ You repeated in an impossibly small voice, feeling your face grow warmer as the distance between your best friend and you decreased until it was nearly nonexistent.

‘’That I don’t return your feelings,’’ his lips slightly parted, and you watched them intently, swallowing when you watched the boy swipe his tongue over them. Couldn’t keep your eyes off the pretty, pink, and plump lips, especially when they were so close to you.

So close that if you merely moved forward in one swift movement, they’d be against yours. Just like forbidden fruit, Tooru Oikawa was so close in your reach, yet so far-so unattainable. 

Being so focused on his lips, your breath hitched when you finally registered his words. You met his eyes, searching for any lies or doubt in them. You found none. Felt your heart thump loudly when you saw nothing but honesty. 

‘’Wait…’’ your jaw almost dropped to the ground. ‘’What?’’ 

Instead of replying verbally, you gasped as Oikawa suddenly surged forward, and his lips were on yours. But then you froze, overwhelmed and confused. You had never kissed someone before- what were you supposed to do? At your sudden hesitance, your best friend pulled away. He watched the hint of fear and uncertainty in your expression and felt his heart drop to his stomach.

‘’I’m sorry,���’ he quickly said. ‘’Did you not want me to-’’ This time, you were the one surging forward, silencing him with your warm lips.

Both of you were inexperienced and were moving slowly and carefully. And yet, that didn’t stop it from feeling so sweet and warm. Oikawa felt you smile against his lips, your arms sliding to wrap around his neck, pulling him closer. 

‘’This means you want to be my girlfriend, right?’’’ The boy said between kisses, and you pulled away to giggle. 

‘’Yes, Tooru, I want to be your girlfriend,’’ now nearly seated in his lap, you sent him a shy smile.

‘’Good…’’ he mumbled. For once, the usually confident and flirty boy was a mess. Pink cheeks 

and slightly ruffled hair, he could barely meet your gaze. ‘’Because I really want to be your boyfriend.’’ 

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Your eyes were burning, tired from being used all day. Class after class, endless notes to write resulted in you being exhausted. But that didn’t stop you from being excited. After the incident from a few days ago, in which Tooru stood you up and you ended up mending his hands, he took the initiative and said that you should have a home date together. It made your heart warm. Because for once, it felt like you weren’t the only one putting effort into this relationship. If he was willing to plan and set the date for you, then that was a good thing, right? There was still hope for the two of you. 

Except that as soon as your hopes got up, they were crushed. Since Oikawa was going to handle the date, he asked you to stay away from his house after school, until five o’clock, so he could get things ready for you.

So you spent a few hours at your house, doing some homework before getting ready for the date. To say you were excited was an understatement. Finally, after so many canceled dates, you would be able to spend some alone time with your boyfriend. Just Oikawa and you, and nothing else in between. 

And true to your word, you arrived at Oikawa’s house a few minutes past five o’clock, wearing an outfit that made you feel confident and pretty. You rang the doorbell and waited. And waited. Minutes passed by, and no one opened the door. Confused, you furrowed your eyebrows, deciding to knock instead. Again, no response.

With an exasperated sigh, you peeked through the windows, stomach twisting when you noticed the lights were off. No one was home.

Fumbling with your fingers, you quickly fished out your phone from your bag and dialed Oikawa. The phone continued to ring, and your boyfriend wasn’t picking up. After the sixth ring, you were sent to voicemail.

‘’Heyo! This is Oikawa. Unfortunately, I’m not available right now, so please leave a message.’’

He had to be kidding. You quickly ended the call, feeling overwhelmingly conflicted. You weren’t sad. You didn’t want to cry. How many dates had he stood you up? The amount was genuinely laughable at this point. 

‘’Would it kill him to make an effort?’’ You muttered harshly as you decided to sit on the house’s doorstep, biting the inside of the cheek.

You spent an hour or two sitting outside the house. Every now and then, a car would drive past the lone street. The trees swayed in the distance and the wind howled in your ears. It was already dark, and you could spot some bright stars in the sky. 

And by the time Oikawa showed up, you were so close to losing it. It took much of your restraint to not cry, sadness and fury were fighting over control over you, transforming into a painful combination.

‘’Glad you decided to show up,’’ you said quietly. You raked your eyes over Oikawa’s appearance. He was in his volleyball uniform, school backpack slung over his back, carrying in one hand two bags of groceries, and in the other one, his school uniform.

He met your gaze but remained silent. Maybe he was feeling guilty and didn’t know what to say. But you were far past thinking about that.

‘’Do you remember what you said to me on Valentine’s Day?’’ You met his gaze, tears pricking from your ears. Slowly, he shook his head.

‘’You said you really wanted to be my boyfriend,’’ you laughed, harshly wiping away at your tears. ‘’Well, it sure doesn’t feel like it.’’

‘’I’m…’’ he croaked, and you took notice of how his eyes began to water. ‘’I’m sorry.’’ You merely smiled at his apology.

‘’So, what was it this time? Did Iwa-chan want to practice his spikes over time? Had problems with the first-years? Go ahead Oikawa, tell me what’s your excuse this time.’’ He recoiled at your use of his last name. You always called him Tooru, sometimes shittykawa or crappykawa, but never just his last name, Oikawa.

‘’I was practicing my serves,’’ he murmured. ‘’They need to be better. But- I wasn’t planning on standing you up, I swear,’’ he held up the plastic bags in his right hand. ‘’I just came back from the store, I got the ingredients to cook you dinner...’’ 

‘’This is pathetic,’’ you quickly stood up, shaking your head. ‘’I can’t take this anymore!’’ You cried out. Tooru reached towards you, but you flinched away. 

‘’No,’’ you whispered. ‘’Don’t touch me. I’ve had enough, Oikawa. I know volleyball is your passion. I know, okay!? I’ve been to all your matches. Cheered for you, comforted you when you’d lost your match. You’re amazing,’’ you let out a dry laugh. 

‘’And that’s the problem. I...I don’t fit in your life. I don’t think I ever did,’’ you looked up at him with a shaky smile, but watery eyes and tear-stained cheeks.

‘’Don’t say that.’’ His voice was clogged with emotion. He dropped all his bags, and pulled you into his arms, even if you struggled. ‘’Don’t say that, please. You fit in my life. You’re my girlfriend, I love you, I need you.’’

With a gentle push, you slipped out of the setter’s arms. For once, he didn’t stop you. Only watched you with teary eyes as his lower lip wobbled.

‘’I need you too, Tooru.’’ You said with a small smile. ‘’You have all of me, and I only have parts of you. And I’m sorry, I really am.’’ 

‘’But I can’t love you like this. I can’t love you knowing that volleyball will always be first, that I’ll only get slivers of your time, and the sport will have your full and undivided attention. You’re going to be a superstar, baby,’’ you hiccuped. ‘’And I’m only going to drag you down.’’

‘’No,’’ he shook his head. ‘’No, no, no.’’ In a few steps, he pulled you into his chest, and you cried into his shirt. His head settled on top of yours, hands desperately holding your face. 

 ‘’I’ll be better, I promise. I’ll-I’ll make more time for you, and-and I’ll make a schedule! We’ll have more dates, and I will be at your side. I...I promise.’’ His voice was shaky and you watched his tears along with yours, stain his shirt.

‘’Don’t make promises you won’t keep, Tooru.’’ You pressed a kiss on his cheek. ‘’Didn’t your mom teach you that?’’ You chuckled softly.

‘’Please…’’ he cried into your hair. ‘’I love you. Don’t leave me.’’ 

‘’I have to.’’ You slowly removed his arms from your body. ‘’You know that.’’

He sniffled in response. You stepped closer to him until your nose was brushing against his. Tooru quickly understood, and his lips crashed into yours with great fervor, moving desperately, hungrily. You were just as eager to reply, and subconsciously, both of you knew why. This was your way of saying goodbye. 

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You were second best, and would always be second best. You weren’t enough for him, you never would be. His heart was set on volleyball, and it had always been.

How could you ever think he could love you? When you met, he had already given his heart away to the sport. And yet, he made space for you. Gave you small fragments that you thought were his everything; but were nothing but measly pieces, pieces you desperately hung to.

Your relationship with Tooru Oikawa was nothing but an unsteady foundation, the product of lovesick pre-teenagers, naive and hopeful as ever. Created for comfort, for tranquility, and most important of all, created with hope. But now? Now that all the veils have been revealed, when all truths have been spoken, and when there is nothing left to say, it’s bittersweet.

Bittersweet to the point you can’t bear thinking about it. It makes your stomach queasy, makes your heart ache, with tears bubbling up in your eyes. And at the same time, it fills you with such serenity and nostalgia, it makes you forget the pain and replaces it with fondness.

But only for a moment. And a moment is not enough. 

You still loved him, and he still loved you. Your paths that had once been tightly intertwined as children, slowly began to untangle throughout the years, choosing very, very different paths. Paths that couldn’t be tied together, too difficult, too painful, to remain as one.

They only met briefly, intertwined tightly, but just as fast as they intertwined, they quickly untangled. Oikawa Tooru was a person who was meant to reach the stars, to shine brightly above all. And what were you compared to him? You were your own person. But your path was far different from his. And no matter how hard you tried, Oikawa Tooru was not your path. 

Fate was cruel. It ripped you out of your fantasy and reminded you of how Oikawa would always choose volleyball first. You would never be his first choice. Made you realize that once the rose-tinted glasses were off, when everything was stripped naked and the bare truth laid before you, your paths were never meant to stay together.

The last sentence fully sinks into your mind as you shift in your seat. The cheering and roaring of excitement, loud screaming, and claps of encouragement echoing in the gymnasium. Watching Oikawa in the court feels like playing with poison; it hurts, hurts so much, remembering that you’ll always be his second option, and right now, you’re witnessing him shine brightly. Shining in the field of volleyball players, coaxing intimidation and awe into others. He was in his territory, ruling over all like a Great King. Without you. 

It’s one of Oikawa’s best performances. His spikes are brutal as always, leaving a deafening silence before the audience uproars and cheers. His skills are polished, and all of Seijoh is hungry for victory. Before you know it, the match ends and Seijoh has won. You watch as they all shout in glory, hugging each other fiercely. 

Usually, by now, you’d be racing down towards the court, jumping into Oikawa’s arms, smothering him in kisses. The thought pulls at your heartstrings, making you swallow a lump in your throat. The setter seems to remember as well, as his gaze meets yours, staring and lingering, but not moving. 

You want to go back to him. Race back into his arms, pull him into a desperate kiss, try to convey all your desires into the flurry of kisses, and have him laugh and slowly pull away with swollen lips.

But you can’t. Not again. 

This is for the best, you tell yourself as Oikawa and his team shake hands with the other team, and you don’t surge forward. You don’t cry out his name, watch as his eyes widen as you proclaim your love for him once again, just like out of a romantic drama. You don’t, and instead, you watch as he shakes hands firmly, a brief light of satisfaction in his eyes, before walking away from the opposing team. It’s for the best.

It’s okay; you don’t stop him from exiting the court. Your heart stutters as he suddenly stops, and glances at you. His lips part open, and even from this distance, and you can see the mix of emotions flashing in his eyes.

It’s for the best; you turn on your back and quickly exit the seating, as squeals and whoops of excitement continue to echo in the stadium. 

This is for the best, you tell yourself. Then why does it hurt so much? 

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His lungs are burning. 

There’s a painful ache in his thighs, especially in his knee, the type of pain that probably shouldn’t be overlooked, but he can’t find it himself to stop. The moment he caught sight of your face, of your tired and weary eyes, he froze. Thank god he didn’t notice you until the match was over- if he had seen you sooner, he might've messed up a serve, and lost the match.

Stop it, he curses himself. This is why you lost her. Stop thinking about volleyball, and think about her first. 

Once the referee blew the whistle, once he had shaken hands with the opposing team, once he saw you, he ran. Dropped everything and raced outside when he saw you retreat from the gymnasium, forced himself to run even though his body was screaming, forced himself to run towards your quickly disappearing figure. 

He shouted. Shouted your name, tears nearly sprouting from his eyes, shouted until his throat was raw. But you didn’t turn around. Not once. You kept running, running further and further away from him. He didn’t blame you, but that didn’t mean he wanted it to happen.

When he reaches the end of the street, he barely notices it was a dead end. His heart shatters and the voices in his head scream the loudest they ever have. You’re nowhere in sight.

A dead-end, he thinks bitterly. Of course, he had to reach a dead end. 

‘’Y/N…’’ he calls out one more time. His voice is ragged and his throat is burning, but he still calls out for you. But you never respond. You don’t step out of a corner of darkness or appear behind him, quickly racing towards him and embracing him in your oh so loving arms. Instead, Oikawa’s only response is silence. Deafening silence, so thick and tense he finds himself letting out a loud sob, dropping onto his knees, hands tugging at his hair harshly.

He’s selfish. Oikawa knows this very well, and yet, he still strung you along. Allowed you into his heart, even when he knew that in a few years, once he had graduated high school, he would be off, racing after his dreams. But the moment he first touched your lips, he stopped caring. When he witnessed your smile, all he could think about was seeing it again. Didn’t care about the implications, the pain his selfishness would bring. All he wanted was volleyball, and you. Was that too much to ask for? He loves you.  

Oikawa’s always been told that as the setter of Seijoh, he brings out the best in his players.  Knows how to play their cards to the fullest. And even outside the court, he was the same. Always coaxing smiles and giggles out of people. Making people feel at ease around him.

Then why... did he only ever bring out the worst in you? 

a/n: okay so... this was a monster to write HAHAHAH the first time, i deleted about 2-3K ;> because i didn’t like the direction the one-shot was going towards. but finally, it is complete ✨ and this is my first time writing full blown angst + oikawa, so please let me know how it was!! admittedly, this isn’t one of my best works :’D but i hope y’all enjoyed! feedback is greatly appreciated :3 

if you enjoyed, PLEASE REBLOG! LIKE AND/OR COMMENT! 

Copyright © 2021 by Veles. Do NOT repost, plagiarize, or read my content as ASMR or audiofics.

[barschter000]

@andy-deer‘s survivor AU makes my head go brrrrrrrrrrr

Also Byakuya is the blackened in this one instead of Toko because...no❤️

Kiyotaka believed that his last words would have meaning and bear some sort of weight that would stop people in their tracks to take a second to think about them, maybe even to remember him, that'd be nice. So naturally, he assumed, his last thoughts should have some impact as well, right?

Kiyotaka's last thought was fear in its purest essence. In such a high concentration that it bit and burned around his wound. His head pounded in the rhythm of his heart, a clump of heat and thuds that he had to balance on his shoulders while his bones were, one by one, in the span of seconds, replaced with toothpicks.

Beat, bite, burn, Taka ran. Blood was trickling down his neck and forehead, warm and slow, heavier than a fluid should be. It ran into his eye and he had no strength to wipe it away, his blurred vision was reduced to only left. One hand on the walls, tracing the tiles, wallpapers, doorframes, rounding the corners, taking the stairs.

Through the pounding, the dull bass against his temples, he tried to focus, tried to see. His sight was proof that he was conscious. Wallpaper, he narrated. A quick, sharp word thrown into the blunt bumps like a hook in a weaving ocean, hoping to catch something, reach someone in the chaos.

Front of me, he continued and the thuds accelerated. Boots, step, step, drip, pink, on the floor, footmarks, swirling, blurring, here, up, raise, shake, go, stairs, downstairs, down, dorms, safety, down to the dorms, someone, help, stairs left, only the stairs left, help, in the dorms, Mondo.

What had been a quiet stream in the depths of the ocean now became the splashing, gurgling and screaming of a drowning man, flailing his arms, pushing himself up on unruly waves, calling out to the silhouette of a ship. Mondo, Mondo, Mondo.

In fear in its purest essence, Kiyotaka thought of Mondo and he thought of him as safety. Which was contradictory.

Just a few days ago, Mondo had stood in a trial, naming himself a murderer. It wasn't far from the truth. He was the cause for death that would have never taken place otherwise. First, his brother, then Chihiro. If he had been a bit more mindful, a bit less reckless, a bit more fearless, maybe Daiya wouldn't have had to kick his bike and take the truck for him. If he had been a tad stronger to let control take over him or a tad stronger to swallow it harder, maybe he would have not picked up that dumbbell. Maybe Chihiro would have not been lying at his feet, bleeding from the head. Maybe if blood and its meaning hadn't scared him so much, he would have noticed that his swing with the dumbbell landed in the air and Chihiro's wound was the result of losing consciousness, as he carried their body to the other locker room.

Kiyotaka had forgotten who Mondo really was or rather, he had never known. Kiyotaka had seen him as a black, then as a white, two clear shades, clearly different. Mondo, the Ultimate Biker Gang Leader as his foe, had been explicitly guilty and as his friend, was overwhelmingly innocent. The Mondo that presented himself in the trial, however, was gray of a shade that already was too dark for ink and too bright for chalk. Kiyotaka couldn't see through him. A hazy puddle of gray; Kiyotaka understood that it was deep but couldn't see a bottom.

Mondo wasn't a murderer. He wasn't the one being executed, that was Byakuya and his plan to confuse the students, hang up Chihiro and bring a killer into the game; the trap of his that shut on himself. Mondo wasn't a murderer per se but he was half a murderer, an accomplice of some sorts. And oddly, greyly, enough, he was Kiyotaka's friend.

Kiyotaka wanted him to promise that he kept it that way, that Mondo and Death split up their paths, that he stayed gray and deep. In this world, where white and black were indivisible, he needed someone by his side to learn.

Mondo promised. Not the usual promise on his honor or on his masculinity, it was a simple promise on silently everything. Even before wrapping his arms around him, Kiyotaka felt safe in his words.

Kiyotaka couldn't hear the doorbell ringing, couldn't detect his finger on it, couldn't recall the order to press it but he hoped that he made an impact on this fragment of the world. Begging for Mondo, for safety, he repeatedly punched the doorbell. His gaze had grown foggy and his field of vision was a swimming dark mass, tinted red from the ominous lighting in the hallway, and from the blood. There was no response, no reassurance from his legs that he was still standing, and his hand started gliding down the doorframe.

A ringing interrupted Mondo's dreamless sleep. The parts where he was trapped in a dark room, being watched by faceless shadows and where he woke up, trapped in a dark room, then realized he was stuck in another, he didn't count as dreams; they were the usual occurences.

Taka, was his first thought. He had gone to his room that night, just to stand there, stare at his nameplate and think of all other things to pay no attention to the reason for his presence there: just company, just for the night. In the end, he called himself stupid, turned around and left. He didn't knock or press the doorbell. Right?

Another ring. And another. Mondo groaned and rubbed his hand over his face. Ringing once again. Yeah, that wasn't Taka. "Who the fuck–?" And once more. He lifted himself out of bed. "I swear, if no one has lost a limb, I'm gonna–" he mumbled to himself, muffling his last words because his brain hadn't completed the sentence yet. His naked feet scuffled on the carpeted floor as he walked over to his door. "Alright." He threw his door open, "What the fu–"

It had never happened before to his awareness: Mondo choked on his words, a second of suffocation.

This was Taka. And he was bleeding. Blood was running down his face. Starting from his hair and dribbling down on his uniform jacket, leaving stains. "Kyoudai?" Taka spoke like his voice was a liquid, spilling out of his mouth. He rung the doorbell one more time. "Kyoudai, I need–" His words drowned away. "Please, I need help."

This was Daiya all over again, Chihiro all over again, dying all over again. Mondo was on the street, in the locker room, at a grave. Honking, lights and screams, metal clanging, the ground vibrating, the weight of a body in his arms.

Mondo came back to life when something hit his legs. Kiyotaka had fallen unconscious and was bleeding on his feet. A hissed curse cut his lips. He bent down, kneeling right into the red pool, the wet and warmth creeping through the fabric of his pants, put an arm around Taka's waist and Taka's arm around his own neck. Taka was heavier than Chihiro, lighter than Daiya, his boots dangled and scraped over the floor, through the pool, and his head was hanging from his frame as if only skin connected them. Red dripped from his hair.

"Fuck." His voice was trembling, light as air but coarse on his vocal cords. Mondo felt his chest rising and falling, his heavy breathing grinding down his ribcage and his lungs. Snot clogged his nose, a sign of tears, and his mouth dried out from breath and salt. He listened to his echo travel down the hallways and a second longer, longing for an answer but there was none. "Fuck!" It rung shrill and shaking.

Mondo stumbled over to the other side of the hallway, dragging weight, dragging a body. His fist battered down next to the first door, missed the doorbell, missed it twice but then its noise stung in his ears. He staggered on, tears were washing over his cheeks, he was leaving drops and bloody footprints.The next door, the third and the fourth. He didn't check the nameplates, didn't ring twice, there was no time and no answers. Kiyotaka was slipping out of his grasp, Mondo gripped his waist and arm anew. He couldn't see a wound, couldn't check how deep it was, only new waves of blood welling from inbetween his hair.

"What happened?" Mondo didn't hear it but felt a gasp grazing his throat. He whirled around and Taka slid again, sinking lower.

Kyoko's arms that were crossed at her chest untangled, revealing her gloves. Her face, her voice kept stern and unmoved. "I'll get Sakura. You stay here." Her steps were soundless, cushioned by her socks and her demeanor. She faced forward as she passed Mondo.

"Did something happen?" Makoto stuck his head out of his door. He choked on his yawn. Makoto ran over, inspected the body, hovering his hands over it. He cocked his head, twisted his mouth. He looked up to Mondo and their eyes didn't meet.

Makoto jumped at the scream next to him. Aoi slapped her hands to her mouth, her gaze stuck to the sight.

The only thing that Mondo perceived was the fabric at his palm, the flesh beneath it and the wrist he was clutching. Kiyotaka still had weight, about his warmth, Mondo was unsure. His purpose right now was to hold him. The rest was numb and unimportant; background static and bleary colors.

Kiyotaka suddenly became lighter, the arm around his shoulder gliding off his back. His nails dug into Taka's uniform without command.

"Mondo, you need to let go." Sakura was standing before him, Hina at her side, Kiyotaka in her arms. Mondo's hand still grabbed on, she had lifted his arm along with Taka. Her words were gentle but not a request.

"I'm not fucking leaving him!" Mondo growled, stepped closer, gripped tighter. He sent glares through tears up to the girl. He had stopped crying and a crust had formed on his face. "That is not what I'm asking of you," she said. "Please let go of his uniform. I need to carry him to the infirmary." Mondo averted his eyes, and removed his hand.

"How long is this gonna fucking take?" Mondo slammed his fist down on the mattress and, angry at the lack of sound and resistance, slammed it down again. He had always hated the sterileness of nurse's offices and hospital rooms; the cold lights, the thin beds, being watched and examined, and timeless waiting. He ground his teeth. His bouncing leg had long escaped his control.

Sakura, who was sitting next to the bed in front of him, looked up. She had taken the care to position herself so that Mondo was able to see Kiyotaka, how he was just lying there on his side, his eyes closed, his mouth slightly open, motionless. Sakura was pressing one of her hands against his forehead, the other against the back of his head where layers of gauze stacked and colored red as the minutes passed.

"I cannot hurry this process," she replied. "The bleeding has to stop before we can take any next steps." She turned her head around to Aoi. "Hina, my girl, could you be so kind and hand me another cloth?"

Aoi stood unmoved next to her, a roll of gauze and scissors in her hands, staring down at her friend's work, and the blood. "Hina?" Sakura repeated, knitting her brows. Aoi blinked and awoke. "Yeah, here, sorry." She cut a new piece, her hands were shaking.

Sakura lifted her hand from Kiyotaka's head for just a moment, revealing her red palm, took the gauze, crumpled it up and and added it to the others. Mondo had been counting the layers in the first three minutes but that had quickly faded into the back of his mind.

He raked his fingers through his hair and sighed. His lip had started bleeding from his biting and he was tasting iron as he sucked it in.

"I can understand your restlessness." Sakura's expression was calm, a subtle softness had undermined her serious features. It was poking needles into Mondo's surfaced nerves. "However, there is nothing that you can do now other than be patient. I advise you get some rest."

Mondo clenched a fist, bared his teeth. "I said I'm not fucking leaving!" "You may stay here," her tone hardened just a little. "There are enough beds to choose from." Mondo grunted, "Fine."

He stood up and could stop his knees from giving way and betraying him. He ripped at the curtain separating Taka from him and fell back onto the edge of the bed. He regretted closing the curtain. Mondo buried his face in his palms.

He couldn't lose Taka. He couldn't name a reason for it but after the thought of him dying, his brain went blank. He could see himself stand at his bed, stare down at his body. Kiyotaka looked peaceful as if he had gone in his sleep, laying there dressed up for a soldier's coffin. He was laying on his back and in any other condition, it surely must hurt. His head was bandaged and the wound was hidden.

It was a subject to Mondo's wonder that he was the one on Taka's mind in his last minutes. Why didn't he associate help with Sakura or justice with Makoto? Why did he choose him? Kiyotaka was the only person on earth that believed Mondo was a good man. It was silly and dangerous, Mondo had told him, but Kiyotaka insisted. Mondo knew that dying brains formed crazily truthful thoughts but to be on Kiyotaka's mind in his possibly last moments felt like an obscenity. The thought of Mondo had filled up his head and pushed thoughts about family, future and unfinished tasks aside. Mondo was where Kiyotaka had anchored his life.

His stomach turned as he noticed how he clung to that. How he swam towards the boat on the stormy sea, hope and the lack of it twisting into an ugly clump in his windpipe that hindered the air. Mondo felt like spitting at himself, kicking his double to the ground and in the ribs repeatedly, each kick with more anger behind it. His double was desperate, in his eyes weak, holding onto Taka, his heart and the affection stored in it. It was pathetic for being so dependent, so selfish and needy.

Mondo couldn't help it. Kiyotaka cherished his existence, silently accepted his mistakes, knowing there was light that cast the shadows, carefully treated his injuries, stitch by stitch with devotion to his being. That was something Mondo had not been able to achieve in his whole lifetime. He thought of Kiyotaka's death and his mind went blank.

"Um, hey?" Aoi sounded quiet behind the curtain. Mondo lifted his head. How long had he been sitting like this? His spine ached. "The bleeding stopped." Mondo allowed himself to breathe. "He's asleep now." Hina paused. "We'd stay if you want to go back to your dorm, that's okay." "If you decide to stay, you'll find us in my room if anything occurs." Sakura sounded so calm again, it was soothing now.

Mondo swallowed spit to conquer the dryness of his throat. "I'll stay." "Alright," Sakura replied. He slid off the bed, his legs stood firm. Flakes of dried blood rubbed off the soles of his bare feet as he tore the curtain aside and stepped forward. The girls halted in the doorframe and turned to him. "Thanks," he said, the eyecontact didn't last long.

Sakura nodded a goodbye, turned off the lights and closed the door. The room was dim with the light hanging right over Taka's bed.

Mondo knelt down next to him. The light gave Kiyotaka's pale skin a sickish yellow tone. The blanket covering his body rose and fell, Mondo saw the fabric of his uniform stretching and releasing, he heard the quiet in- and exhales. Kiyotaka was breathing.

Mondo's finger wound around his wrist. He was unsure whether the warmth was an illusion. He searched for a pulse, tapping about with his index and middle finger, then found one. Feeble beats obscured by skin and flesh.

Kiyotaka's fingers jerked. "Kyou..." He whispered like he'd lost his voice.

They locked eyes. How weak he looked. How soft, how frail, how strong he was for making it.

"Kyoudai." Mondo longed to answer but all words, all language were not to his avail. Kiyotaka blinked and squinted. "Bright," he whined. Talking was an effort, Mondo could tell by his wheezing. He followed his bidding wordlessly.

"I'm... so glad," Taka spoke. Mondo had not let go of his wrist. "I have so much... to live for." Mondo grabbed him tighter, the wish to hold him slowly becoming too much to bear. "I have this world to better." Taka's arm moved in his grasp, Mondo opened the plier of his fingers and Kiyotaka's hand slid into his. Kiyotaka intertwined their fingers clumsily. The weight on Mondo's palm was strange but he completed the gesture. "And you," Taka said. "I have you."

He let out another whimper and shut his eyes again. "My head," he muttered. The muffled sound of belching escaped his closed mouth. "Lemme get Sakura," Mondo decided. His voice sounded foreign to him, too steady. "You, go back to sleep." He stood up but a faint squeeze at his fingers had him stop. "Don't worry." In the dark, Mondo's smile was invisible. "I'll be here when you wake up."

[bluebellhairpin]

No Regrets

Fantasy AU!Levi Ackerman X Fem!Reader

Part Two - No More 

-

Part Four - No Death 

A/N: Forgive me, I wrote this within four hours and have not edited it so it’s probably not-too great. Read it. - Nemo

Summary: After a meeting with Zeke, Levi confronts his Queen. There he finds out that she is in a lot worse shape than she wants to admit. He takes her health into his own hands. 

Warnings: Blood. Injuries. Many, many broken things. Death threats. Again my bad poetry. 

Listening to: ‘I’LL SHOW YOU’ by K/DA (slowed) - ‘That was the battle but this is the war.’

Series Masterlist 

Masterlist 

‘Blood turns to sweat, use it to repay your debt;’

He did knock. He did. The lack of an answer was what made him open the door without permission. In hindsight, he probably should have waited. 

He shut the door immediately, narrowly avoiding your anger - displayed by the smashing of glass - and watched the dark amber liquid seep under the doorframe. In the dark of night, under the candlelight, the alcohol looked as dark as the blood your hands had spilled. 

After waiting a few more moments, he opened the door again, hearing the glass scrape under the door, and crunch under his feet as he stepped into your room. 

As his eyes adjusted, he took in the messed bed, sheets, duvets and pillows alike thrown aside and ripped to feathery shreds. The giant mirror and divider in the corner were both smashed to pieces, reflective glass shards littering the floor, and the paper punched through. Candlewax was left to harden, the walls had their fair share of the damage too. Among it all was you, facing away from him with a crystal glass cracking under your fingers - a threat to remind him that the bottle wasn’t the only projectile you had on hand. 

Aside from the bright glowing runes on your sword - which was laying discarded against the far wall - and the red light of yours eyes reflecting back at him from the window it was completely dark. 

There was one other light source in the room, however - coming from the original cut Zeke gave you. 

What he had last seen as a so-so injury, was now something that would’ve had anyone else passed out. It was glowing, cracking and flaking at the edges, and deeper than he’d ever seen a cut like that be before. And it had grown. 

The corruption of your sword had taken ahold of you, both hands wrung around your neck and it was not letting go. With every beat of your heart, the cut pulsed light, drawing his attention to how far up your neck it had gone. Nay, not your neck - your face. It drew an ugly red path up your jaw, cheek, and straight through your eye up to your hairline. He didn’t dare think how far down it went, instead only noting how you held at your side - just under your ribcage. 

“Go away.” your voice came out rough, sounding as corrupted as you looked. 

“You need help.” 

“Leave!” You yelled, turning and throwing your glass right at him. He lifted his arm, shielding himself with the guard on his arm. His eyes never left you though, now with a clear view of the damage Zeke inevitably caused. 

In short - it was very, very bad. You were weeping, and he couldn’t tell if it was blood or your actual tears. 

“Do not tell me what you think you know, Little Captain,” you said, “Because I already know it and I will not be told again by the likes of you.” As you spoke more blood seeped out of your injury, leaving your nightshirt to deal with another cascade, making it stick to your skin even more. 

“You need to calm down!”

“I am calm!” The hand on your ‘good’ side whipped around and grabbed him firmly on the throat, pushing him until his back hit a post of your bed. “Your ruling monarch is dying, you should be the one to be told to calm down, yet here you are as serine as a meadow brook.” You were holding him nose-to-nose with yourself, looking down at him with one eye brighter and redder than the other. Despite your shallow breath, chest heavy, and the look of pure murder in your eyes, your hold on his neck wasn’t making him fear for his life. 

He could see in your eyes that he was the last person whose death was what you wanted. You were biting at him, snarling like a dog trapped in a corner with nowhere else to go - and he was daring to bite back at you.

“You were hardly this feeling when you killed our old king.”

“He was nothing but a puppet for Zeke. I’m surprised you hadn’t figured that out yourself.” you spat, “He was destined to ruin this land, and so help the gods you would have sat back and watched.” 

You looked at him for a long while, waiting for his reply, or maybe for your body to pull away. Who was he to tell? However you surely were not the criminal you first were thought to be. Quickly looking back he could see those signs. The things old king Friz did with and for Zeke. Things that he could not see you doing. 

“Let me help you.” 

“I do not need your help.”

“You’re dying!” 

“And if I do then you and many others will rejoice in it!” you said, your fingers flexing against him in anger. “But until then I’ll bide my time. The closer to death I am the more powerful I become.” 

You looked at him, eyes narrowed, and teeth stained red with your own blood.

“Zeke will not be able to stop me if I can hold onto this for long enough.” 

“You won’t be able to do it. I know you won’t.” He said, and then spoke again - quick enough to cut off another of your stubborn remarks. “Your hands are shaking. You can’t look yourself in the mirror anymore - how long do you think that will last before you kill yourself instead of Zeke? Do you really think you’re strong enough to do all that on your own?”

You stepped back, now only resting your hand on his throat.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked. 

Before he could answer you broke into coughs. Wet and nasty ones. You doubled-over, turning away and kneeling on the floor as you pawed at your chest, staining your fingers with the blood on your shirt. 

Levi decided then and there. He would make sure you lived. 

He took his sword from his side, and joined you on the floor. You immediately recoiled at the white light, weakly pushing his shoulder away with the hand that wasn’t at your chest. Instead he took your hand, wrapping your fingers around the hilt, and the sword glowed even brighter. 

Streams like white wisps came from the blade, and Levi had to hold you into his chest to keep you still so they could reach you. They entered your mouth like smoke, and almost as soon as they did your coughing stopped. Followed by your breathing. Then the tears stopped. 

And then, there in his arms, on your floor, surrounded by broken glass, you were lulled into a sleep. 

If someone told Levi he would be watching over you as you slept, he would never have believed them. Not three years ago, not two, and definitely not a few months ago. 

But here you were, laying among fresh sheets, with your fingertips grazing his sword. You were healing and he was making sure you were getting that rest. 

Most of the time he was, anyway - the mess you made in your room could not be ignored, not by him. 

It was after breakfast by the time you woke up, bleary eyed and groaning. You turned over away from him, no longer touching your once source of healing, and rubbed your ‘bad’ eye. Sitting up, you turned back to face him. 

You said nothing.

Shifting again to pull yourself out of bed from the other side. He watched you as you traced along where your injury used to be, fingers only reaching a long scar from your chin that reached under your shirt collar. 

He thought about making a comment about your eye, but snappy comments never got either of you anywhere. Both of you had learnt that after last night. 

“I will kill Zeke.” you said. He shivered. 

You’d never once sounded as soft and caring as you just did - even with such threatening words. He was very unsure how the tone made him feel.

“I will release the iron and unyielding grip he has on his land. His resources. His people. I’ll set them free.” You faced him again, and he was shocked at how human you looked in that moment. 

Levi knew Zeke was a bad man. His hunches and intuition had never once failed him when it came to telling what kind of person someone was. Zeke was one of the few people who left a bad taste in his mouth. He’d never trust Zeke.

You were asking him to trust you. To side with you. To make a choice he would never regret. But you also left a bad taste in his mouth. Unlike with Zeke, however, he was slowly getting addicted. Like the way a bubbling drink would sting your nose before you drank it - he was coming to enjoy the evil that soaked through all your good intentions. 

Looking into your eyes, now more (e/c) than red, those human eyes, he fell then and there. 

You were not just his Queen. 

You were not just someone to obey. 

You were not just a murderer. 

Looking into your eyes, he knew he would do whatever you asked him to - no matter what it was. 

“Will you help me?” 

“Yes.” 

‘Make the golden threat, choose the path you won't regret.’