#been away and unactive for a long time | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sneezyminniejo · 2 years ago

Note

Can you write for up10tion with a sick sneezy Sunyoul? Like, him apologizing for sneezing and trying to hold it back to not spread it to the other members? And them taking care of him (pls include Wooseok, even tho he's unactive but I mean theyre still labelmates even if he'd leave the group) thankss

Here it is. Hope you enjoy

Sick Apologies

It was day three. Yein has been sick for three days, and so far he’s managed to essentially hide it. Although it had helped that day one was just a sore throat and day two was just thick post nasal drip leading to the occasional cough.

Today however, Yein had woken up with his sinuses completely clogged. As soon as he sat up in bed he instantly felt an itch and immediately brought his blanket to his face and muffled three sneezes before making his way to the bathroom. While in the bathroom, he did his best to blow his nose, but wasn’t very successful in clearing anything out. He sighed as he went back to his room to get ready for the day.

It wasn’t long before Yein had to leave his apartment to go to the company and meet with his group. He went back to his bathroom to look for a mask, but unfortunately, he didn’t have any more. He had run out at some point and forgot to buy more. He sighed again and decided that he would do his best not to sneeze around the others.

By the time he had gotten to the company building, Yein was beginning to wonder if he should have called in sick today. He knew he didn’t have a fever because he had checked his temperature earlier. The issue was he was currently running fifteen minutes late and it was his cold’s fault. Yein wound up having to pull over a few times in order to have sneezing fits of impressive length. He also had to stop at a convenience store to get some tissues that he had neglected to bring with him and a mask in the process.

Yein blew his nose into some tissues and placed his mask over his face before joining the others in the practice room. He was fully prepared for some kind of lecture, as he’s normally quite punctual. Therefore fifteen minutes is quite late for him. Sure enough, when he opened the door to the practice room, practice was in full swing. From the looks of it, they were just running the choreography and made due with his absence.

Fortunately or unfortunately, the song his members were working on was just ending. Just in time for Sooil to turn and see Yein dropping his bag on the floor next to the others.

“Yein, get stuck in traffic or something? You’re never late.” The group’s leader said as he went to pause the practice playlist.

“Or something.” Yein responded. He began to walk to the middle of the studio, but abruptly stopped in his tracks. Yein stood ramrod straight and inhaled sharply. It was a couple seconds later that had him bending at the waist.

"HEH-STIESHHH, HEH-STIESHHH, HIH-NGXSTSHH… Sorry." Yein sniffled and cringed at the mess that was on his lip. So much for the mask he was wearing. He removed the mask and took a tissue from his pocket and productively blew his nose. He stuffed the tissue back in his pocket.

“Sorry.” Yein said as he walked over to the trash can, throwing away both the mask and the tissues. His members were looking at him a bit strangely, causing him to give them a questioning look.

“You good there, Yein? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you sneeze more than once.” Kogyeol asked.

“I’m fine. It’s just a little cold.” Yein said. He went to the center of the room to roughly get into position and the others followed. Jinwook decided to restart the warm up so that Yein could properly warm up. Once warm ups ended, the group began to work on their current tile track choreography for their upcoming comeback.

There was just one tiny issue. Yein seemed fairly distracted. He was consistently almost missing cues and at one point almost got plowed over because he wasn’t paying attention and the part of the choreography they were practicing was quite fast. This meant that Jinhyuk had a hard time stopping in time. Fortunately no accident occurred. Although a water break was called, even though only an hour and a half passed.

“Hyung, I don’t think you’re as okay as you claim.” Dongyeol said. In part because Yein wasn’t actually drinking his water, he was holding his metal water bottle up to his forehead. A moment later Yein brought the bottom of his shirt up to his face and he sneezed four times.

“I’m fine, Yeol. I just didn’t sleep well last night.” Yein said as he used his shirt to wipe his itchy nose. He cringed a little when he saw the mess. “Sorry. I’m just going to qui-HEHSTIESHH, HIH-STIESHHHH go to the bathroom.” Yein unsuccessfully covered those sneezes and clumsily ran out of the room.

“Hyung, you’re not gonna let him practice today are you?” The maknae asked. Sooil shook his head in response. It was clear that Yein wasn’t in good enough condition to be dancing.

Meanwhile Yein was struggling. Shortly after entering the hallway, he succumbed to a fairly intense and messy sneezing fit. He was still a ways away from the bathroom and he wasn't about to go back to the practicroom with his face dripping snot and mucous. He tried to just use his hand and realized zed that that wasn't going to work. Yein decided to use his already slightly messy shirt as a tissue, so he took his shirt off and used it to properly clean his face.

One thing about the building the Up10tion members work in is that the decor and everything is identical throughout. Because of this, Yein hadn't realized that he had completely passed the bathroom while he was tending to his nose.

Wooseok was in the recording studio, working on songs for his solo album. He was currently taking a quick break, and as such, wasn't wearing headphones or anything. Just as he was about to put his headphones back on, he heard a weird sound coming from the other side of the door. Wooseok paused for a second and then heard the sound again. After hearing the noise for the third time, Wooseok decided to investigate. He got up and opened the door, only to find Yein standing just outside the studio door sneezing into his shirt.

“Ye-” “Heh-STIESHHH” “Yein-” “HEH-ngxtshhh, hih-stieshhh” Wooseok decided to pull Yein into his studio and he frowned a little at the warmth he felt. After another moment Yein stopped sneezing and the slightly older man took Yein’s shirt out of his hands and offered him a tissue.

“You good, Yein?” Yein nodded while he used several tissues to clean himself up. He turned away from Wooseok and coughed into the tissues.

“Sorry. Wait, why am I in your studio?” Yein asked, voice full of congestion.

“What do you mean why are you in my studio? You were right outside the door sneezing, so I brought you inside.” Wooseok placed his hand on Yein’s forehead and frowned again. “You have a fever. Let’s go.” Wooseok quickly packed up his bag and grabbed Yein’s shirt. He made a disgusted face at the mess covering it, but handed it back to Yein.

It took about two minutes to get to the practice rooms. Everyone was a little surprised to say the least when they saw Wooseok walk into the room holding Yein's wrist.

"Hyung, why are you here?" The maknae asked. The question seemed out of left field, but Wooseok had unofficially left the group awhile ago. There’s also the fact that they were all honestly so busy that they haven’t really talked to each other, let alone seen each other much except in passing in the building. “I found Yein here outside the studio sneezing into his shirt.” Wooseok began to explain. Yein was a sniffling mess and pressed his shirt to his face as he sneezed again.

“Sorry.” The sick man said as he stepped away from the group a little bit.

“Hyung,” Wooseok looks directly at Jinwook. “Yein has a fever. He should be in bed.” Jinwook and Sooil both looked concerned at that. “Yein,” Jinwook said using his leader voice. “You said you just had a cold. You never said anything about a fever.” “Honestly, I didn’t know I had a fever. I ne-never t-too-hehstieshhh, hih-stieshhh. Took my temperature. Sorry.” Yein rubbed his face on his shirt. The sick man threw his shirt over to his bag and began walking to the middle of the room.

“Yein, you are not working today. Maybe if we were just doing studio time. But dancing is going to raise your temperature further.” Jinwook said as he went to grab Yein’s bag. The leader sighed. “We’re too close to our comeback for more than one person to be out and I know for a fact that no one will be available to give you a ride until our schedules for the day are over. Just relax on the couch I guess.” It wasn’t an ideal situation, but it would have to do.

Yein went to the couch and sat down. Although he didn’t look happy about it. Wooseok had left the room fairly quickly and no one really commented on it, as they needed to get back to practice.

It seemed that Yein was sicker than he was letting on as even though he was in a room with blasting music, the sick man had fallen asleep. He hadn’t actually lied down though. His feet were still planted on the floor and his torso had fallen to the side.

By the time lunch rolled around, Yein was still asleep. However, Hwanhee had repositioned him so that he was properly lying down. Dam woo was currently in the process of waking the sick man for some food, when Wooseok walked in. All of the members looked a bit confused, especially since he was carrying a take out bag.

“What do you have there?” Changhyun asked.

“I thought I’d get soup for Yein. I knew you guys wouldn’t have enough time to make sure he actually eats his food. And since I’m just in the studio for the day, I thought I'd help out.” The other members chuckled a little as Yein slowly woke up. It was true that Yein frequently had a hard time eating whenever he was sick. He always had a major drop in appetite.

Lunch had been nice. It was more of Wooseok spoon feeding Yein soup because the sick man was half asleep. But Yein had eaten his meal. Afterwards Wooseok offered to bring Yein home so he could get some rest on his bed. Everyone agreed including Yein, who after his nap, was feeling considerably worse.

The one issue here was Wooseok had forgotten the address of Yein’s apartment, so he brought them to the dorm that really only get used when Up10tion is having an active comeback. He quick sent a text to Jinwook to tell him he brought Yein to the dorm before making a trip to the pharmacy. He and Yein spent the afternoon sitting on the couch watching tv while the sick man drifted in and out of consciousness,

It was a couple hours later that the doorbell rang. Confused, Wooseok got up and answered the door. Only to find delivery food, enough to feed the entire group. A moment later his phone rang with a text from Minsoo, telling him that he had ordered food for everyone and that they’d all be by in a few minutes once practice was fully over.

The commotion of the others arriving is what woke Yein up the most. While he was still feverishly groggy, he was coherent.

“Guys, I promise I’m f-fine. I can totally work tom-heh-stieshhh, hihngxst-nxgtshh. Sorry. I’m fine to work tomorrow.” Yein said, not at all confidently as he continued to use his soiled shirt as a tissue. All of the members exchanged looks before Jinwook shot the idea down, citing the standard policy of no fever for a minimum of twenty four hours.

Since the comeback really was just around the corner, the rest of the group decided to move back into the dorm a little bit early. That way they’d all be able to keep an eye on the sick member and make sure he didn’t actually try to work when he wasn’t in any condition to do so.

#up10tion #sickfic #sneeze

5 notes · View notes

blightandshiningarmor · 6 days ago

Text

I've been thinking about this for a while now, and trying to shoo those thoughts away because "hey, um, Thedas doesn't revolve around your characters, you know?", except it does, it literally does. So I always thought that was the reason why Leliana is not romanceable in DAI: she is in love with the Warden, whether her feelings are reciprocated or not. I believe this to be true for Alistair as well, except Leliana's feelings are tinged with an almost religious devotion. We know Leliana's faith is unshakeable, and how she always saw the Warden as her light, her guide, given to her by the Maker himself in the darkest of times. Even if she could try to forget and move on, she wouldn't want to.

Then, she meets the Inquisitor. In my case, a human, just like the Warden. And just like the Warden, the Inquisitor is a protector, someone with no tolerance for injustice and oppression, someone whose faith lies not in a god, but in her friends. I was always under the impression that Leliana tends to be distant, especially in the beginning, as if she's trying to avoid facing the Herald and coming to terms with the fact that yes, there is a resemblance. She seems... unimpressed. "The Herald" is nothing new to her: she already has her messiah, she's seen His will and His beauty through her and her actions, and whether or not this woman bears a holy mark, it doesn't really matter that much. In the meantime, this allegedly holy woman, first Herald and then Inquisitor, becomes a true leader, fair, compassionate, just. Not even remotely comparable to her Warden, I'd say, but a glorious leader nonetheless: if the will of the Maker didn't shine through her before, it certainly does now.

If they were on even ground before, a fraud wielded as a god's envoy by a Hand severed from the body, they're not anymore. One calls the shots, the other offers advice; one gives the orders, the other executes them; one sits on the throne, the other hides in the shadows. Leliana tries to keep her distance, she really does, but the Inquisitor keeps chasing her, visiting her, treating her as a friend. The Inquisitor is growing, learning, she wears her role impeccably and is a symbol to the people, and Leliana can't help but see her dearest friend in her, her one true love, her dream made flesh. Sure, the Inquisitor is different. She's a hero to the people way before her initial task is completed, and she is her own person, obviously. Less formidable in battle, less brutal in her determination to keep her loved ones safe, emotionally weaker, but also kinder, softer, humbler. But she needs to shut that feeling out, because it can only stem from a comparison that feels immature and desperate: she misses her Warden like a flower misses rain in the summer heat; she painfully craves a world where her love is reciprocated, and a tender, deep part of her is trying to find something that can ease that pain. Surely, there's nothing else. Surely, it's not the kindness and the softness and the humility. Surely, anyone other than her Warden would simply be no more than an easy compromise.

And the Inquisitor's care is genuine: she tries her best to reach her, comfort her, offer her a bond to rely on, instead of leaving her to drown in her sorrow. And she wonders if hers is just a twisted, childish admiration for a woman of such immaculate beauty and shining beliefs. The famed Inquisitor is no more than a newcomer, an impostor, someone fumblingly following a music sheet because the world ends if the music stops; but Leliana... Leliana is the mysterious, infallible spymaster, the Hero's most trusted friend, the Hand that carried out the will of the Divine. Surely there's nothing more than awe, surely there will always be an impenetrable wall between them, surely a woman so formidable doesn't need to find comfort in her.

Inevitably, being unacted upon for so long, unfed, unaccepted, that shy little flame dies.

Leliana with unrequited feelings toward the Inquisitor, especially an Inquisitor that reminds her of the Warden, who is either dead or also never shared the same feelings, so she is concern that these feelings are not true, and she simply is comparing the circumstances and actions of the Inquisitor with that of the Warden. But the Inquisitor certainly does not know, cannot even imagine Leliana having anything close to romantic feelings, and a love never return dies in quiet cinders.

#I'm so sorry #I couldn't stop myself #now I need to go cry in a corner #Dragon Age Inquisition #yapping

21 notes · View notes

zoeysdamn · 2 years ago

Text

Bark, Bite & Break Bones - Tyler Galpin x Van Helsing!reader | Part.9

Summary: The mystery around the Weathervane attacks remains, but it’s really none of your or Tyler’s businesses anymore. Until it is. The Avengers might be a weird group, but you’re honestly willing to beat the strangeness level of their team with an unexpected coalition of your own.

Warnings: swearing, angst, mention of blood, mention of child neglect (minor)

A/N: HOLY MOTHER OF SEA OTTERS, SHE’S ALIVE-- I’m once again soooo sorry for being so unactive on this fic, but y’know ✨ adult life struggles ✨ and ✨ depression ✨ Jokes aside, this was supposed to be the last chapter, but I realized it was probably better to cut it in two. Aaaaaand I have to admit, I used some reference from The Witcher 3, guilty (I’m not)

[Masterlist] [Prologue] [Part.1] [Part.2] [Part.3] [Part.4] [Part.5] [Part.6] [Part.7] [Part.8]

“Can I talk to you for a minute?”

It wasn’t the question per se, more of the person asking it that surprised you. Lifting your nose from your herbology textbook, you raised a perplexed eyebrow at the small dark form of Wednesday Addams in front of you. A solid second of silent surprise passed before your brain connected again.

“Uh, yeah sure. Let me grab my things.”

Gathering your textbooks and notes you followed the younger student out of the library. If Wednesday Addams took time to actually ask if you had time to talk, it surely would be interesting. Once you both reached the quad, Wednesday stopped in a more scheduled area, away from other student’s stares. Even if the dirty or frightened looks had slightly died down over the months, a Van Helsing still attracted unwanted attention.

“So,” you began, “what’s up?”

“I’m surprised your paramour isn’t at your side,” she observed sharply out of the blue, “I have come to notice you two are almost as disgustingly prone to display affection as my parents.”

“Yeah, like you’re one to talk. Who’s your girlfriend again?” you snickered, thinking about Enid’s tendency to smother everyone with affection. Given Wednesday’s deeping frown, you made a good point.

“Anyway,” the Addams said after cleaning her throat, “there is some interesting news regarding the attack at the Weathervane. I thought it might interest you.”

You arched a brow. “And you’re aware of that because…?”

“Despite his poor skills as a detective and a father, Sheriff Galpin has the merit of being aware of his incompetence.”

Cackling bitterly, you couldn’t help but let a scoff escape you, “I beg to differ on that point, but go on.”

“He asked for my help on the investigation and I agreed to.”

“You mean that a team of full grown and trained detectives asked for a teenager to help them on an official investigation?” you repeated in disbelief. “Damn”, you chuckled, “Jericho’s police are even shittier than I thought, I wonder how Tyler and I were even arrested in the first place.”

Wednesday shrugged lightly, “I was there for Tyler’s arrest, which explains the resolution of this case itself. For you I guess it was beginner’s luck.”

“Mmmh, you don’t think of yourself poorly, do you Addams?” you hummed, somehow amused by her bold assumptions.

“I’m merely sharing facts,” she deadpanned in her usual flat tone. “The point is, I found some clear evidence leading to the conclusion the attackers were indeed mercenaries.”

Your witty demeanor disappeared at her words, immediately replaced by tense concentration and a serious frown. “So someone did pay them,” you completed. It was only confirming what you suspected. “Any idea who the contract may come from?”

“Not yet,” answered Wednesday with evident frustration, “but the real goal of this attack is more certainly outcasts-directed.”

The frown on your face only deepened, “But the only outcasts there had been Tyler and I.”

The brunette lifted an unimpressed eyebrow at you. As a long silence settled, the pieces connected in your brain. “Oh,” you whispered.

“It is highly probable that you or Tyler were the true targets of this attack,” said Wednesday. “It’s still unclear whether it was because you two are Nevermore’s students or directed against you personally.”

You nodded, thinking about it, “Yeah, you have a point. We often go to the Weathervane but we’re not regulars either. If the attack was directed to us, that means the person who ordered it was well-informed on our whereabouts and the therapy sessions.”

“Do you think the therapist might be involved?”

“No,” you said, shaking your head, “Dr.Fern might be a little too noisy for my taste but she’s not shady. And if the whole point of this attack was to kill either Tyler or me, they really did a shitty work. Why start to shoot everywhere when there’s only two clear targets and the element of surprise on your side? And none of their shots actually hit us, mercenaries are supposed to have some skills usually.”

Wednesday cocked her eyes to the side, carefully listening to your out loud reflexions. “What’s your point?”

“I mean, despite everything it doesn’t seem that they effectively tried to kill us,” you explained, trying to find some sense to your own thoughts. “Either they were terrible at their job, or there’s something more at stake.”

“Interesting,” noted the Addams, “according to you there might be something more than a badly executed hold up.”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, immediately shutting off defensively, “it’s only things that sounded weird when we talk about it. I don’t want to have anything to do with this investigation.”

That had the merit to actually surprise Wednesday, whose eyebrows rose in surprise. “Don’t you want to get to the bottom of this?”

As a reflex, you snorted sarcastically, “The only thing I want to get to the bottom of is a cup of coffee and Tyler’s bed.”

“Gross.”

Again, you shrugged. “Look, this year has had a lot of shit shows already, I’m not interested in digging up some more. I got out alive from this attack, and so did Tyler; it’s fine for me.”

“What if the person behind this isn’t done with you?” countered the unfazed brunette.

“I’ll be here again to save our asses. If they ever grow some courage to actually face us instead of sending fucking amateurs.”

With that you gave her a polite nod and made your way to your next class. Wednesday might be focused on finding out the truth about the Weathervane attack a few weeks prior, but you definitely weren’t. All that mattered to you currently was to get through the rest of the year without too much trouble; then you and Tyler would be free to go anywhere else but the juridic clutches of your stay at Nevermore academy.

Speaking of your boyfriend, you were pulled out of your thoughts by the familiar sensation of his arms sliding around your waist.

“Hey babe,” he greeted, dropping a kiss on your cheek. You hadn’t heard him reaching you in the corridors.

“Hey there handsome,” you grinned softly at him.

For a moment, you pondered if you should tell him what troubled you after your talk with Wednesday. But as soon as his lips found yours you brushed that thought away. He was okay, you were okay. Whatever it was could wait, you didn’t want to trouble him with suspicions that could very well turn out to be nothing important. The main objective was to get the two of you to the end of the school year quietly. Then, if vengeance to plot there’ll be, you’ll be here to do the dirty work without a doubt.

It had been almost a week since your encounter with Wednesday Addams. Eventually, you had ended up sharing it with Tyler, the conversation laced with your own concerns on the matter. Just like you, your boyfriend had his doubts on the real reason behind this attack. This was Jericho, not some 1920’s Chicago moment. There had never been such attacks in this small town, even less from mercenaries, so he agreed that something was off. But Tyler also rejoined you on your decision to not get involved in the investigation. After all, he was the last person police officers would want to collaborate with, and he definitely wasn’t fond of seeing his dad again either. So the subject had been quickly brushed away, as the day passed and you focused yourselves on school and your couple. Maybe it was better this way, even if he didn’t admit it yet you could say Tyler still felt antsy about the whole ordeal and his transformation. It wasn’t uncommon for him to startle up with a gasp in the middle of the night, breath short and knuckles gripping the bed sheets. He had gradually started to spend more nights in his own room to avoid any reproach from Weems, but after the third time calling you in the middle of the night with a trembling voice, you had called it out and practically dragged him into your own room – not that it had ever been something hard to do.

This has only strengthened your decision to not interfere with the investigation whatsoever. No matter how weird all of this had been, the attack and its consequences had already taken quite a toll on Tyler and you. Even if you had stayed at Nevermore, you didn’t forget how close you had been to being sent back in juvie. So for now, what you needed to do was to lay low, and take care of Tyler – as much as you let him take care of you. At some point you had both agreed to solely focus on school work and getting the two of you through the school year and not play the heroes here. Not that you would have been considered as such, anyway.

Deep into slumber, it took a certain amount of time to your ears to pick the knocks on your door. The warm embrace of Tyler’s front pressed against your side was so deliciously numbing, your consciousness didn’t want to emerge from this. But whoever was knocking on your door didn’t share such concerns. With a groan you cracked an eye open, and your frown immediately softened when you met your boyfriend’s sleeping face. Even with the scars crossing from his forehead to his jaw, Tyler was beautiful in his sleep. You lost yourself a little in the contemplation of him, eyes gazing over his freckles, slightly parted lips and brown curls. A more insistent knock made you swore under your breath, the softness of the previous moment whipped away by the crushing reality – it was way too early to knock on your door like that. Carefully removing the arm that Tyler had draped over your waist, you slipped out of the bed, grabbing a pair of night shorts to throw under your sleeping shirt on your way to the door.

Flying the door open with the deadliest glare you had, you couldn’t help your eyebrows to raise a little at the unexpected sight of Xavier. The psychic looked nervous – but again, anyone who disturbed your sleep should be.

“What do you want Thorpe?” you grumbled in a still sleep-tainted voice.

The long-haired boy seemed uneasy, “Y/N there’s something you need to see.”

“It’s fucking four in the morning, can’t this wait?” An irritated groan morphed into a yawn when slipping past your lips, emphasizing your words. Still, Xavier didn’t back down.

“No it can’t. Please, it’s really important. Can we at least talk about it inside?”

You threw a glance over your shoulder at Tyler half naked sleeping form. Biting back another swear, before returning your attention to Xavier, “Give me two minutes to get ready.”

True to your words, two minutes later, some clothes thrown over and a loving kiss pressed on Tyler’s forehead, you exited your room ready to follow Xavier to whatever was so important. The fact that he didn’t answer any of your questions and gave evasive answers played on your nerves even more. But your last streak of patience definitely snapped when he started to lead you to the forest.

“Woah there, okay look Thorpe, you’re nice and all but I’m not following you in that forest unless you tell me what’s going on here.”

“You’re afraid?” he asked in genuine surprise ; never would have he thought of the fearless Y/N Van Helsing, who had done unspeakable things to other students, being wary of a forest at night.

Like reading his mind, you scoffed, “I’m not afraid of this creepy-ass forest but I did get beaten to a bloody pulp last time I was there. I’m not stupid enough to walk into another trap.”

“Who would have thought,” interjected a new voice.

Whipping your head around to the sound, you winced at the unwelcomed sight of Bianca emerging from the woods. The siren’s jaw was clenched, and her eyes throwing daggers at you. Nothing unusual.

“Okay this is definitely a trap, I’m out of here,” you snapped irritably, the lack of sleep evident in your edgy tone. “Thorpe, I’m not wishing you good night,” you sneered bitterly at the artist before starting to stomp back to your dorm. But another familiar flat voice interjected out of nowhere.

“It seems like you misread the situation, Y/N.”

This time, you turned around in pure surprise. Wednesday Addams stood next to the murdering-looking siren, like she had appeared out of nowhere. For a moment, you took time to take in the sight of the odd trio before you. From what you had understood from Ajax and Enid during an unexpected gossip session in the library, Xavier used to have a thing for Wednesday last year, while he and Bianca had freshly broken up. This had led to some tension between the two girls, and knowing Bianca it surely wasn’t pretty. So yeah, it was indeed weird to have a reunion of the four of you.

A dry chuckle escaped you as you turned to face Wednesday. “Have I? Pretty sure Ariel over there will take on any opportunity to try to kill me. Again.” you pressed with a death glare to Bianca.

“Don’t think I wouldn’t,” she hissed in return.

This made the small brunette roll her eyes of boredom, “If you called me only to witness your childish bickering then it’s a waste of my time, Bianca. At least put a knife in the feud so it’ll be interesting.”

Your eyebrows arched at her words, but then you looked back to Bianca who only swore under her breath, eyes cast down in annoyance. Suddenly the situation became way more funny to you and a grin stretched your lips.

“Ooooh this is rich,” you giggled. It made the three other students’ eyes widen a bit, given how unusual this reaction was for you. But you found this too glorious to contain your amusement. “Bianca Barclay, actually asking not only for Wednesday Addams’ help but mine too? Boy, you should really be that desperate.”

Instead of a venom-laced comeback, Bianca shrugged ; and that was telling you how serious all of this was.

“Let’s not waste any time,” she simply muttered, “Come, it’s not far.”

Before you could realize how unbelievable this situation was, you followed the odd trio into the woods, a flabbergasted expression on your face. Now, this was a day to remember.

While your group walked in awkward silence you shuffled closer to Wednesday.

“Do you have any idea what this is about?” you muttered to her, still eyeing Bianca and Xavier suspiciously. They didn’t seem quite at ease, which knowing both of them was odd.

“No,” deadpanned the Addams. “That’s why you’re here.”

Her answer only left you even more confused, and as on cue you all arrived at what looked like a shed in the middle of nowhere. Given no one spoke you raised your eyebrow at your fellow students.

“Well?”

“I was joining Xavier in his art shed earlier,” egan Bianca, arms crossed in annoyance – or was it actually uneasiness? You couldn’t tell. “But I noticed something really strange around here.”

“Such as?”

“I don’t know,” Bianca snapped out of frustration at your question, “It was creepy as fuck so Xavier called Wednesday but she doesn’t know what it is. Thought you might come see and tell us what it is.”

“Hold on,” you scrunch your nose in mild disgust, “I’m not investigating this place you certainly shagged in. Like ew, no thanks.”

Xavier’s cheeks heated up at your words, “I- it’s my art shed!” he said defensively, to which you rolled your eyes.

“Yeah sure, and your ex-not-ex-girlfriend came here to learn how to paint with acrylics.”

“Grow up a little, Van Helsing,” grumbled Bianca, not feeling amused at all by your antics. “Besides, it’s not in the shed but a few feet away.”

The siren pointed at a tree nearby, and you turned away from a reddening Xavier to approach the mysterious thing. Curiosity grew in you as you came closer and detailed the strange composition in front of you. A large animal skull was binded on the tree by a rope, engraved with strange symbols on its front. Some flowers and branches were intricated around the whole thing, maybe in a poor aesthetic attempt. It could pass as a weird gloomy art and craft project if it wasn’t for the dark and uneasy vibe it gave off.

“I found it like that,” explained Bianca, “creeped the shit out of me.”

“You really called me in the middle of the night to join your scooby-gang investigation?” you snickered, rolling your eyes. But no one bought your denial this time.

“It’s not a genuine installation,” commented Wednesday next to you, eyeing the skull. “Even you can sense something’s off about it, don’t you?”

You had to admit that they were right. No matter how sarcastic you wanted to be about this absurd meeting, you had to give it to Bianca that she had spotted something clearly unusual. Fortunately for them, your sleepy brain still managed to recognize the strange contraption.

“So what is it?” asked a nervous Xavier.

“It’s a nithing.” The perplexed silence your words left made you realize how none of the other students had any idea what you were talking about. So did their frowns when you glanced at them behind your shoulder.

“A what?”

“A nithing,” you repeated, eyeing the carving closely, “A vessel to emit a curse, a powerful one. Made with a horse’s skull and some runes. But that’s odd.”

“What is? That someone set a curse on someone else?” scoffed Bianca - yet in her tone laid some concern.

Fully turning to them you shook your head, “This is a very ancient norse method, not known by many. I’m not even sure if it has been used in the past centuries or even outside of Scandinavia.”

It would be oh so tempting to snicker at them and gloat at Bianca ; but the presence of such contraption made you more concerned than a childish contentment of making fun of the siren.

“Yet you seem awfully well informed about it,” commented Wednesday flatly.

Instead of vexing you, her words only made you shrug. “Not that much, honestly. Heard about it before, perks of having to learn magic history from monster hunting books. Though I regret not having much more information about it now. This,” you pointed to the engraved skull, “is kinda concerning.”

“Do you know how to lift this curse?” Bianca asked, but you shook your head.

“No. I told you, this isn’t something I ever saw in real life, I only heard about it.”

“So what now?” said Xavier. “We obviously can’t let this happen here, what if it’s already working?”

For a moment, a part of you suddenly wondered why the three students were here. Apart from having discovered the cursing vessel, nothing obligated Xavier or Bianca to do anything about the nithing, let alone seek help to destroy it. But thinking about it, you realized that both of them were Nightshades – as unbelievable it sounded to you after your history with this order, they seemed willing to help their fellow students for the greater good. Maybe things indeed had changed after Jeremiah’s departure. As for Wednesday, she was probably there for the thrill of the mystery. In any other context, you wouldn’t have blamed her for that.

A deep sigh escaped your lips.

“I don’t know,” you admitted.

“But you will help us, right?”

Taken aback by the question, you arched your eyebrows at the three other students watching you expectantly. You would have never thought that Nevermore students would actually call you for your help. Not only information, but a true, sincere demand to protect this academy. Sure, you weren’t as bitter toward the school and its students as you used to be a few months ago, but you weren’t sure that you were willing to go to any lengths to help them. Not interfering with any funny business apart from your own safety, that’s what you always lived by. That’s how you would go through the end of the school year, you knew that. Nothing forced you to help this school, you didn’t owe any of its members shit.

But you had already broken that rule of yours. When you had decided to help Tyler, way before you fell for him. Or every time you had made sure he wouldn’t attack anyone; or the negotiations with Weems to stay at Nevermore, and the lack of revenge after what Yoko did to you at the Poe cup. The truth was, you had crossed the line of being neutral a long time ago; maybe it had started when you had made Jeremiah pay. Back then, you weren’t even protecting yourself, you were protecting all of the students who could have been armed by this fucker.

And then it hit you: deep down, you knew that you would help those students. Because you didn’t want to be like the rest of your family. Because deep down, under all the build-up confidence, all the sarcasm and buried trauma, there was this fear clenching your guts that you could one day be like your elders. Either a blood-thirsty radical like your grandparents, or a pathetic back-hunched coward that claimed neutrality like your parents. All of them hurted people by their actions and let kids that should never suffer from what they are be hurt.

As long as you lived, you would never let a kid be hurt like you had been; no matter if they were outcasts or humans. So in the end, the answer was easy.

“Yeah,” you breathed out, realizing how long you had been silent. “Yeah, I’ll help you.”

A relieved sigh was almost heard from Xavier and Bianca. Although you didn’t mention it, there was no need to push your luck. Instead, you immediately set your brain on a more strategic mode.

“So what now?” you said out loud, refocusing everyone’s attention on the matter at hand. Unsurprisingly, Bianca was the first to react.

“If there’s any danger for a student, we need to find who is targeted,” she declared. “Y/N, how far do you think the power of the curse goes?”

“You want to bring the student out of the curse’s reach?” asked Xavier, to which she nodded.

Thinking about it for a moment you waved your hand in the air. “I don’t know, like around…10, 20 miles? Curses bounded by objects usually have a field of action but it depends on many things.”

“So we can’t exactly rely on that,” concluded Wednesday. “For once I regret my mother isn’t here, her insights on curses could have been useful.”

All of you collectively nodded gravely. But then, a sparkle burst in your mind, lightning all the boxes of ideas that had been so fogged.

“Wednesday Addams, you’re a genius,” you blurted excitedly, under the perplexed looks of the other students.

“I know,” she shrugged. “Why?”

Fishing your phone in your pocket you quickly flipped open your contacts. “I know who might know something about nithings and how to lift the curse.”

“Really? That’s awesome!” beamed Xavier.

“Who is it?” asked an ecstatic Bianca.

The smile of hope that had pushed its way to your lips immediately disappeared, turning into a wince. Looking back at them, you offered your newfound colleagues a sorry look. “Well…none of us will like this call, that’s for sure.”

They looked at each other in confusion.

“Y/N, who are you calling?” repeated Bianca.

With a sigh, you pressed the call button, “My grandmother.”

A few shocked gasps escaped Bianca and Xavier, but you quickly turned away, pressing the phone to your ear. They may have been wary of you at first, but the infamous Irina and Ephraïm Van Helsing were more terrible threats than you were; every outcast knew that. It didn’t please you either to call your grandmother, but you really were short on options here.

Just as you were considering ending the call, someone picked up on the other side of the line.

“I thought you were lying dead somewhere in a gutter,” said an old voice as a greeting.

Rolling your eyes at her comment, you tried your best to not sigh too hard, “Hello to you too old hag. Guess you’re not mummified yet, what a shame.”

Even on the phone, you could practically hear your grandmother roll her eyes. “What do you want, child?”

“Don’t think I call you out of a joy of heart,” you snickered, under the wide eyes of Bianca, Xavier and Wednesday; this exchange was surely quite a scene. “You’re a cold hearted bitch but you know a thing or two about curses.”

She scoffed, “What makes you think that?”

“Because living with you and Ephraïm sure was one,” you spat bitterly. “C’mon grandma, don’t make me compliment you, I’m not in the mood for ass-kissing.”

“Always the gem Y/N. Such an ungrateful disgrace you are.”

“Yeah, yeah whatever,” you said with a dismissive wave of your hand. “Nithings, what can you tell me about it?”

A long silence followed your question. For a moment, you even thought that your grandmother had hung up on you. But then she said, “Where did you find one?”

You debated whether or not you should tell her; if she knew it was at Nevermore, she would gladly let it kill whoever was targeted. “Does it matter?” you said instead.

“Yes.”

“For your answer or for your will to?”

A chuckle resonated on the line, “It’s in this degenerated school, then. I sure hope you’re not trying to lift this curse. At least it would do the job you’re failing to do.”

“As a matter of fact, I am trying to lift it,” you answered dryly. “And please, if I was really failing at my job I’d be dead by now.”

Your grandmother scoffed in disbelief, “Why are you even doing this? You side with the enemy now?”

Sighing in annoyance you pinched the bridge of your nose. “Why does it even matter anymore, I might be the one cursed, isn’t this enough for you?”

A pause. “You sure don’t want the answer to that,” assured the elderly woman quietly.

Her response stinged a little, but you were already aware of that; to be honest, the contrary would have surprised you. So you decided to play the card you knew would work.

“You do realize that the Van Helsing lineage will end with me, right? What a shame it would be if the disgrace I am happened to be the last of this oh-so-glorious family because you didn’t help, don’t you think?”

At the lack of immediate answer from your grandmother, you knew you had hit right. Slightly glancing behind you, you gave an encouraging thumb up to the baffled trio of students who were witnessing the bitter exchange with wide eyes. FInally, your grandmother spoke up.

“What do you need?”

A relieved sigh almost escaped you, but you didn’t want to give her the satisfaction. Instead you said, “How can I know who’s targeted by the curse?”

“Does the nithing have carvings on?”

“Yeah, runes on the top of the skull.”

She hummed in agreement, “They should give you the name of the person the curse had been set on, then.”

Scratching the back of your neck, you chuckled nervously. “My nurse runes are a bit rusty, never been the best at old languages.”

The elderly woman scoffed, “You’ve never been the best at anything, child.”

“Fuck off grandma. Anyone know any old norse by any chance?” you called out behind you.

Wednesday, Bianca and Xavier all shook their heads.

“Guess Google translate will do, then.” you shrugged. “Okay, we find who’s the target, then what?” you asked again.

“Either way you find the person who set the curse and carve their name instead, or you let the curse do its job.”

Once again, you let out an irritated sigh at her stubbornness. “What part of ‘lifting the curse’’ do you not understand? I know you’re ancient but jeez, your hearing isn’t improving.”

“Quit the petulant child behavior, Y/N.”

“You first,” you retorted back bitterly. “I’m not thanking you, bye.”

Before another unpleasant remark could be thrown at you, you pressed the end call button angrily. The first phone call with one of your grandparents in years, and it had been as nasty as you had thought.

“So?”

Xavier’s question pulled you out of your thoughts. You turned around to see the three students look at you expectantly.

“Apparently the target’s name is engraved on the skull,” you explained pointing at the nithing. “And carving the name of the person responsible for this should inverse the curse.”

“Are you sure?” frowned Bianca. “This sounds awfully simple.”

You raised an eyebrow at her. “If you want to call the old hag yourself, be my guest.”

The siren shivered in cold sweat by the mere thought.

“So, what now?” she asked, trying to think about a plan of action.

“Don’t you think we should inform Weems?” said Xavier. “Maybe she could help with that.”

“If we are going to evacuate the school, yeah maybe,” you muttered quietly. “Didn’t you use your siren song last year?”

Bianca’s eyebrows rose at your genuine question, “Yeah, we did. Why? How do you know that?”

“Ajax mentioned it,” you shrugged. “What if we used that to interrogate students? Find out who had set the curse?”

“Are you sure about that?” Bianca raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t that illegal and breaking, I don’t know, like a dozen laws on personal rights?”

You shrugged, “At this point, I’m not counting anymore how many laws we’ll be breaking to sort this shit out. Would that be possible, yes or no?”

The siren thought about it for a few seconds.

“It could,” she admitted, “but it would take a lot of time. Even if we ask for help from other sirens students, we’ll have to explain the situation to them so that they ask the right questions. Last time was easier, we just had to tell everyone to get out.”

“How long do you think it would take?” nudged Xavier.

“Around two hours, maybe three…one and a half if everyone’s cooperating, which is rather unlikely.”

“So it’s too long if we want to lift the curse before it gets to work,” you deduced. “For all we know, it might already be working. You said you discovered it just tonight?”

Bianca and Xavier nodded in sync. “I came here last night too, and there was nothing,” confirmed the artist.

“What about that?” called Wednesday.

The three of you turned your heads to where the smaller student was crouching in front of the nithing. Phone in hand, she was looking closely at the engraved runes. To be honest, you hadn’t noticed her slipping away from your group.

“What did you find?” you asked, approaching her.

“This rune,” she pointed to the last one, “according to this device you call “Google translate” it should be meaning something along the lines of a house, or territory.”

“So you do know how to use a phone,” grinned Xavier.

She sent him a death glare, “Don’t push your luck. I still despise modern technology.”

Ignoring the bickering, Bianca frowned. “A house? I thought the curse was targeting someone, it doesn’t make any sense. Could there be another meaning to the rune?” she asked you. “Google translate isn’t the most accurate.”

“Don’t think so,” you mumbled, deep in thought. Then, something hit you. “Xavier,” you snapped suddenly, “is this area still within Nevermore’s grounds?”

He blinked at first, taken aback by your question. “Uh, yeah. Yeah it is, I’m pretty sure the shed is a school’s property. Why?”

It clicked in your head, and a dreadful feeling sank in your bones.

“We have to go back to the school,” you whispered in a shaky voice.

“What? Why?” asked Bianca in surprise.

Instead of answering, you started to rush in the school’s direction. When Xavier shouted your name, you said, “I know what the curse’s target is.”

Despite their surprise, the three other students quickly followed you. Reaching your side, Bianca frowned. “Don’t you mean “who”?”

You shook your head. “We were wrong thinking the nithing was set on one person. The runes are indeed referring to both a territory and a house, not someone inside in particular.”

“What do you mean?”

Gulping loudly, you really hoped you weren’t too late already. “The curse had been set on the whole school. None of the grounds are safe, we need to get everyone out now.”

It was the smell that reached you first. You and the three other students weren’t out of the woods yet when the strong smell of ashes caught your nostrils. No need to look at the other to sense the equal worry that immediately caught them too. Bursting out from the forest, you stopped dead in your tracks at the sight in front of you: draped in raging flames, the walls of two Nevermore dorms were burning. Heavy smoke escaped through the windows and burned your eyes, the all too familiar feeling freezing you on the spot for a handful of seconds. Then the reality came back to you like a slap on the face, when the piercing screams of students finally reached your ears. How come you hadn’t heard them from the wood all that time? Everyone was screaming, terrified students running out of the buildings in their night clothes and horror in their eyes. It was only when you heard a familiar voice shouting your name that you came back to your senses, whipping your head around.

Crossing the crowd of terrified students the best he could, Tyler was running to you. He looked utterly distraught and there was something of a scared little boy in his eyes before they met yours. You opened your mouth to say something but were tackled in a bone-crushing hug insead. It could have been a cute gesture if it wasn’t for his fingers gripping around your shoulder like a lifeline.

“Y/N where have you been??” asked Tyler frantically, pulling away after long seconds of an embrace filled with worry. He still held you by the shoulders, at arm length, as to make sure you really were here in front of him.

You could feel his hands trembling on your arms, and your own hands immediately went to cup his scarred cheek in reassurance. “I’m fine,” you breathed out. “Some shit happened in the woods and my help was needed.”

This didn’t seem to calm the bubbling worry in Tyler, whose eyes were wet with tears. “You weren’t there when I woke up,” he choked with a sob.

A pained winced draped over your features, “I know, I’m sorry babe,” you whispered, trying to soothe him. Beyond the fact that the Hyde could come out under pressure or tense situations - and it definitely was one - you didn’t want Tyler to think you had somehow abandoned him.

But even if every fiber of your being wanted nothing but to cradle your boyfriend closer and comfort him, the heat of flames and screams reminded you this wasn’t a luxury you had.

“What happened?” you asked firmly but in a softer voice, still trying to contain his Hyde.

Thankfully it seemed to work, and Tyler nodded to himself to focus on the matter at hand, “I don’t know I- I was sleeping and then the fire alarm blasted. It startled me awake and I ran out of the room, but I couldn’t find you.”

“Did you see where the fire was when you got out?” you tried to ask softly to continue to soothe him. Tyler shook his head.

“There was smoke when I got out of the room,” he gulped, “so much smoke– I don’t know where the fire came from, but it was close.”

The information turned in your head ; none of this was really helpful. The panic created by the fire was so overwhelming for everyone, it made it so hard for you to think correctly. The arrival of Wednesday, Bianca and Xavier next to you got you out of your thoughts.

“Has everyone got out?” barked the siren hurriedly to the scarred boy. Too shaken to snark a witty comeback, Tyler could only shake his head.

“I- I don’t know,” he muttered. “everything was so fast and–”

“Wen!” a voice shouted from afar. Everyone of the little group turned their head to a panicked Enid, stumbling in her girlfriend’s direction, a raincoat thrown over her nightclothes. Despite her general disgust of any form of physical affection, Wednesday didn’t waste a second to wrap her arms around the terrified girl.

“Are you alright?” she asked her girlfriend; Enid could only sniffle as her whole body was trembling.

“I- I’m f-f-fine,” she hiccuped. Tears were rolling down her cheeks but no one seemed to care. “There’s still- oh my god Wen, there’s still people in there,” she cried.

That made everyone’s eyes widened and the questions fused immediately.

“What! Who?”

“Do you know where they are?”

“When did you see them last? How many are still up there?”

Enid winced at the torrent of questions, but under Wednesday's encouraging gaze, she gulped and managed to articulate an answer. “Two werewolves,” she croaked weakly, “first years…they- they started to wolf out with the panic and I- we tried to help them escape, I swear we did but-”

“But what?” pressed Xavier.

Enid averted her eyes in shame. That’s when you finally noticed how she gripped one of her forearms, and the blood dripping from between her fingers. Someone in the group gasped when they noticed it too.

“You’re bleeding!” shrieked Wednesday – and it was definitely a first to see her lose her temper as she practically forced her girlfriend to sit on the ground. “What happened?”

“I tried to help them,” muttered Enid in a blank voice, like she was too shaken up to register anything else, “I tried to- and they wolfed out and they-”

She didn’t need to explain further for all of you to put two and two together. Glancing up to the sky, you let out a curse at the sight of the bright moon behind the heavy smoke.

“And of fucking course it’s a full moon tonight,” you mumbled. At Tyler and Bianca’s perplexed looks you explained, “Young werewolves tend to wolf out prematurely under intense pressure and aren’t the most reliable. That’s probably what happened with this fire.”

All eyes redirected to Enid, who rocked back and forth mind-absently and face white as a sheet. Seeing younger werewolves she cared for attacked her, knowing they were in a very distressed situation due to both the sudden fire and first wolfing out must have been shaking her to the core more than you thought.

A beat passed ; then you swore under your breath again, cursing yourself mentally.

“Oh what the hell,” you groaned before dropping to one knee in front of the shaken up werewolf, “Enid,” you started with the calmest voice you could put at the moment, “where are those kids’ dorms?”

She lifted eyes full of tears in your direction, wide in shock. “I- what?...”

“Focus Enid,” you insisted more firmly, trying to shut out the screams and roars of the fire only a few meters from you. “Where? Where were the students you saw?”

Enid stared at you for a moment before she managed to articulate, “Second…the second floor of O-ophelia hall.”

You nodded in thanks and rose up, shedding your jacket in the movement. That immediately made Tyler’s worried rise even harder.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

Throwing your jacket over your shoulders like a fireproof blanket – a poor one – you did your best to ignore his eyes, “I’m going to get those kids.”

A collective gasp answered you before Tyler grabbed your forearm. Even if you knew you shouldn’t look at him if you wanted to go, you did so anyway. His brown eyes were blown wide in horror and worry.

“You can’t go there! It’s madness, there’s nothing you can do!”

You huffed, “Fucking watch me.” The grin had been a poor attempt to lighten the mood with your usual sarcasm. But your boyfriend’s terrified gaze and trembling hands told you nothing could ease his mind.

“Tyler’s right,” protested Bianca, “let’s wait for the firemen, at least they could help!”

“I’m not letting those kids die,” you headbutted stubbornly. But deep down, you were just equally frightened as everyone else.

“Fuck Y/N, this isn’t about pride, did you see what rabid werewolves did to Enid? You wouldn’t stand a chance!”

A cold feeling of resignation sank in your bones, and you turned to the siren with a serious face. “I’m precisely the only person who can help them,” you said slowly. “This will not be the first time I’d face an early wolf.”

Bianca’s eyes widened, but you cut her worried question short before she even spoke, “There’s other way to calm them than killing, if that’s what you’re worried about. I know it’s a hard thing to ask, but you have to trust a Van Helsing on this one.”

Turning back, you started to walk toward the bruning school. Every second spent on debating silly things of trust was a second of letting innocent young kids in danger.

A hand wrapped around you once again; you didn’t have to turn to know who it was.

“Don’t go,” he whispered in a broken voice. “Please.”

“I can’t let them in there,” you muttered, still avoiding his gaze.

Tyler tugged gently on your hand, making you turn around to face him. He cupped your cheek, but again, you refused to look at him. If you did, you were afraid to lose all strength and hide away like the frightened little girl you once were.

But unfazed by your shifty gaze, Tyler stroked his thumb against your cheek lovingly. “You don’t have to prove yourself,” he whispered in a mix of loving affection and despair – to see you running through those flames. “Please, don’t kill yourself trying to prove anything to them, I beg you.”

The crack of his voice at the end of the sentence finally made you look up at him. Tears gathered at the corner of his eyes, threatening to fall any moment. No matter how this sight broke your heart, you knew you couldn’t go back. “You know I can’t let those kids in there,” you said softly - although you could hear how wavering your words were. “I promised myself I would never let that happen to any kid again.”

Tyler nodded slowly, but the look on his face was one of pure heartbreak, “I know, “ he whispered, “that’s why I can’t watch you go in there again. Never again.”

One of your hands came to gently squeeze the one that was cradling your cheek, and you leaned against it for a moment, closing your eyes and savoring the feeling. The feeling of something wet rolling down your cheek made you open your eyes slowly. Tyler’s eyes were equally wet. Slowly, you gently pulled his hand off your cheek, guiding it back to his side.

“I have to do this,” you said, squeezing his hand softly. “If not for me, for the terrified kids who are still inside.”

Tyler wanted to add something, he truly did. But at your tone, he knew there was no way to make you change your mind. So instead he dove and pressed a hurried and passionate kiss on your lips. You could feel your heart squeeze at the feeling, returning the kiss eagerly. It only lasted a few seconds, then you tore yourself apart from Tyler’s lips, your hand slipping away from his. Despite the overwhelming sadness and heartbreak painted all over his features, he tried to push a small smile on his face.

“I love you.”

This sent another squeeze to your heart – both painful and loving. “I love you too, Ty.”

Turning away from him, you started to hurry to the flaming building, until you heard him call out for you one last time.

“Don’t try to be the hero!”

A small smirk tugged your lips, and you looked back above your shoulder.

“Don’t worry,” you shouted with a slightly cracking voice, tainted with fake assurance, “I never am!”

And so you dived into an opened window of the blazing building.

[Part.10] [COMING SOON]

Taglist:

@igotanidea @officerrrfriendly @beggingforxavierthorpe @aliciahlewis @stresseyzesty @katiemrty @leightonsteele @black-swan-blog27 @mooniesthings @nightfurya @steadypoetrydinosaur @hellokittysblog0 @thecraftoflove @yasmine302

Usernames unfound by Tumblr:

@spiceyhotsherbet

Plz tell me if I’ve forgotten you in the taglist (or if you wanna join!)

#tyler galpin #tyler galpin imagine #tyler galpin fanfic #tyler galpin x you #tyler galpin x reader #tyler galpin x y/n #tyler galpin angst #Wednesday #wednesday series #wednesday netflix #Van Helsing! Reader #no beta we die like men

56 notes · View notes

mercurygray · 2 years ago

Note

also , ahem , trace + dealer’s choice from the fantasy au 😇

He didn't realize the bathhouse would be occupied.

Or perhaps, Dick mused, he should have guessed, because it had been Eileen that had said she was sure it would be empty, and lo and behold, it most certainly was not. Opening the door and seeing her there, Dick had the vague sensation that he'd been set up - and he wasn't sure whether to be angry or pleased.

Joan turned towards the sound of his gasp, pulling the robe tighter around her shoulders. But even the quickest hands couldn't hide what he'd already seen - the wild patchwork of lighting-scars down her back, glistening and ghostly in the bathhouse's lanternglow.

Dick's heart dropped. The work of the wizard.

He knew most of the story, now, or at least, thought he did - the dead parents, the kindly uncle overseeing her regency, and the slippery advisor who had wormed his way into court with the intention of turning her uncle's mind away from allowing a woman to succeed him. There'd been a fight, and she had only just managed to flee with her life.

That fight had not been without scars, it seemed.

"I'm sorry," he managed, watching her pull the loose folds of the robe tighter around her body. "S-someone said it would be empty."

"That's all right," she replied, obviously trying her best to recover. "I was just leaving." She paused. "I suppose it was Eileen who told you I'd be finished. She has an idea I need to learn to let people see my scars. Well?" The robe slipped a little further down her back. "What do you think?"

He could feel the healing crackling in his fingers, the almost irresistible urge to make what was broken whole again. But that was magic, too - and as much as he did not want to see her in pain, he wanted even less to have her push him away.

"I don't …think it's ugly at all," he managed to say. "You survived, didn't you? And that's beautiful, in its own way." And there was another urge here, too, to touch it, to trace the lines down her back, remained unsaid and unacted - instead, he pulled the robe back over her shoulders, covering her back up, trying to make sure his hands didn't linger longer than they should. Her hair was bundled up in a kerchief, a few wisps and strands curling in the heat of the bath, and it was all he could do to avoid touching those, too.

He thought he heard her sigh, but it could have just as easily have been the wind - or a creaking board. Somewhere else in the inn he could hear singing and laughing, and the sound of Lew's voice, calling for another round of drinks.

"I should let you take your bath," she said, rising from the bench and taking her towel with her. "My apologies for Eileen."

But he didn't have time to tell her no before she was gone. Dick glanced at the now empty room, and the steam from the bath, and sighed. It was better this way - she was a princess, nearly a queen, and he was - a nobody.

He sank into the bathwater and closed his eyes, wishing he couldn't still the long length of her in the dark.

#i have written a thing #mercurygraypresents #fun with dick and joan #joan warren #the dnd alternate universe

6 notes · View notes

chojuuro · 3 years ago

Text

out.

character/s: Yakushi Kabuto, allusions to Yamanaka Minoru rating: T (kabuto behavior) content: post-fourth war kabuto musings, set in my oc canonverse wherein kabuto is imprisoned for a couple of years following the war. surprise! not beta'd words: 706

“You’re out,” Kabuto hears, and he doesn’t believe it.

He doesn’t believe it, because he’s been waiting so long to hear it and he’s known for so long that his sentence would be extensive. He is not an innocent man, even by Shinobi standards; Orochimaru’s right hand man, perpetrator of the Fourth Shinobi War, assisting Uchiha Obito in nearly causing the collapse of not only the Shinobi world, but the world at large.

Despite being taken in by the Foundation. Despite Danzo worming his way into Kabuto’s mind at the ripe age of eight years old, breaking Kabuto down just to work him back up again into a perfect intelligence gathering weapon, just like his mother. And Kabuto, so eager to please, was happy to help if it meant securing funding for the orphanage that both saved his life and gave him a purpose – the same purpose that, these days, he isn’t even sure what that is anymore. And he would carry each mission out to completion, infiltrating the other villages, major and minor and miniscule alike, reporting back to his new master. His new purpose. The very purpose broken upon the murder of his mother by his own hand.

He’s a broken man, by this point.

As if he wasn’t already.

Two years, he’s been locked up. Two years he’s sat in his cell, under the chakra blocking seals that prevent him from acting out, prevent him from attacking his guards where it would hurt them the most. The coronary arteries, to cut off blood supply to the heart. The vagus nerve, halting nerve activity to the brain. The trachea, disrupting oxygen to the lungs. Dislodging joints to hinder movement, detaching muscles to stop movement altogether. Ensuring his escape.

Kabuto thinks about it to pass the time, but he does not act on impulse.

He can pinpoint the places on his guards where it would be most effective to kill them. Their faces are hidden by the animal motif masks of Konoha’s ANBU force, but that doesn’t matter, not to Kabuto; he’s well trained as both a medic and an assassin, and his time in the Foundation only solidified his natural-born talents. He doesn’t need to see their real faces to know where their eyes sit, should he need to gouge them out to secure his fictional getaway. He doesn’t need to see the fine contours of their bodies to know exactly where the heart is, or where the lungs sit, or where the spinal cord is at its weakest and most vulnerable and easiest to pierce.

Two years have passed like this. Incessant thinking, intrusive thoughts telling him to kill, disrupt, get away while you can.

He does not listen. He allows the thoughts to have their moment, he thanks them for their contribution, and he sends them on their way, unacted upon.

A marvel, really. Maybe the little therapist was doing something after all, in between the annoyed looks and the notes that Kabuto’s caught glances of over his shoulder: Uncooperative, but trying. Insufferable. Broken. Potential to heal; patient has to want it.

Kabuto wonders if he does. He wonders, in the recesses of his mind, if he wants to heal from this. He does, he thinks; wants to escape his cell on good terms, wants to step into the village as a new man, a citizen and not just some war criminal.

And he can’t deny that that is exactly who he is. Kabuto is, at the end of the day, a war criminal.

He doesn’t think that should stop him from enjoying a little bit of freedom.

So, he decides, he’ll work towards it. He’ll work with the little therapist he’s been assigned to the last two years, tell him his plans and his wants and his goals. Maybe he has, he can’t remember; he’s sure it’s come up before, but he’s unsure whether it will be acted upon or brought up again without–

He hears the words again, and wonders how long has passed since the first time he heard them the first time.

“You’re out, Yakushi.”

And he swears he sees the sun when he looks at the mouse motif mask standing in front of his open cell door.

#wrote this instead of doing my dishes like i said i would oopsie #kabuto yakushi #yakushi kabuto #and u know what.#yamanaka minoru #he's here too even if he isn't mentioned by name #he's the mouse motif mask #desfic #naruto fanfic #naruto fanfiction #oc canonverse

10 notes · View notes

knightprincess · 4 years ago

Text

Stay With Me (Echo x Fem Reader)

Words: 1553 Warning: None, just a bit of love for Echo

Echo wasn't entirely sure when her touches began to leave invincible burn marks on his skin. He wasn't sure when her voice had began to haunt his quiet moments, but still it had happened. Fives and Jesse had often encouraged him before the Citidal mission, yet he hadn't followed through with it, finding himself somehow terrified by the mere thought of (Y/N) rejecting him, instead he had settled for friendship. Fives had been the one to tell (Y/N) about Echo's fate after the Citidal mission, he'd held her as her heart broke, as she lost control of her tears and as her anger for the situation finally hit her. When Fives was killed Rex was the one to tell (Y/N), yet he had stayed to comfort her, knowing the unhealed feelings from Echo's death had been brought back to the surface, the Captain dare not tell her, his suspicious her beloved Echo was alive, he dared not get her hopes up in case he had to shatter them again.

Although (Y/N) was a medic, she had found popularity among the 501st, often working along side Kix on the many cruel battlefields. For the most part it didn't effect her, but there were times something had been too much for her to handle. No number of exams and tests could prepare anyone for the harsh reality of war. Echo had taken a particular liking to (Y/N), he had instantly been attracted to her beauty. More than once he'd gotten an injury on purpose just to see her. Kix had caught on quickly but said nothing as he asked (Y/N) to tend to the Arc Trooper. A comment or two slipping from his lips as he did so. Kix had also been the one to encourage her when it come to her unspoken feelings for Echo. Yet he'd seen how much her heart broken when the boys comes back from the Citidal. (Y/N) had planned to tell Echo then and ask him out on a date, instead she had been told of Echo's apparent death.

Jesse had been the one to tell (Y/N) about the theory of Echo being alive, with Rex's permission, he had told her about the mission to the opposite side of Anaxes with Clone Force 99. About the alga rhythm's voice and the answer given when asked who it was. CT-1409. In that very moment (Y/N) had allowed herself to hope again, her heart had done a few flips at the possibility of her Echo coming back. A lot of troops had noticed you hadn't been the same since Echo and Five's deaths.

"General Skywalker" spoke (Y/N), as she found the heroic Jedi Knight, he made a point of knowing her after hearing the whispers of his troops. He'd quickly understood why so many of them had taken such a liking to her, not only was she a brilliant medic, but she also showed a love for each of them, always making sure to remember each name and how to tell them apart, a joke or two thrown in while attending to their battle wounds. "Permission to join the mission to Skako minor" she asked, being professional. She had prepared herself for being told to stay behind, she knew there were a lot of troops still in need of medical care, yet she had hope she would be granted permission to go along, offering her medical services should the small team need it.

"Permission granted (Y/N)" calmly spoke Anakin, placing a hand on her shoulder in a friendly manner, knowing she could offer something many others couldn't. Not only was she positive on the battle field, but she also had skills in other areas. Plus he knew if Echo was there, she'd be one the Arc Trooper wanted to see. "Your skills are valuable. All I ask is you follow my orders. I don't think I could bare for you and Echo to be reunited only for one of you to be lost again" added the Jedi Knight, being sure to make it clear he wouldn't do anything to put her in direct danger. Yet also showing his support for what he could clearly see was there, even if it was something that had previous been unacted on. He could see how much brighter her eyes had become since Jesse had informed her of the discovery.

The mission to Skako Minor was a success, although (Y/N) had been ordered to stay on the ship. Tech had informed her Echo had been found and they were attempting to make an escape. Just as he had informed her when they had gotten from the city. (Y/N) had waited patiently for the group to arrive, she knew Rex hadn't told Echo, she was there. Almost as he intended on it being a sweet surprise for the Arc Trooper. Especially when he knew Echo needed something, although the medical review with (Y/N) would likely be enough to remind Echo, he was still very much loved and missed during his absence.

Although the medical review had to wait until the small battle was over. (Y/N) had once again been ordered back to the ship by Anakin, ensuring she would survive it. After it, the group gathered on the Marauder. Each needing some sort of attention. (Y/N) insisting of treating each of them, even if Crosshair and Anakin were being stubborn about not needing it, although she'd given them little choice in the matter. A few comments escaping Tech regarding Crosshair, with the sniper doing his best pout while being treated for the minor head wound. Rex had willingly allowed her to check him over, knowing well she was far more stubborn and generally cared for the well being of every trooper, no matter their rank or which legion they served with.

Echo had been the last one treated at his own request. Finding himself nervous to be around (Y/N), especially after so long, although he felt his heart beat faster when she neared, he could help but hope she wouldn't look at him as she had done in the past. He hoped she wouldn't look over his with love in her eyes, he didn't want to be the one who let her down, especially when he didn't feel as if he could give her what he once could have. The Arc Trooper flinched slightly upon feeling her soft hands brush over his shoulders as she wrapped a blanket around him, being sure to keep him warm. She soon got to work, being sure to check the implants forced upon him. Although (Y/N) was pleased to have her Echo back, she could see he wasn't the same man he was before, he had lost the pride and confidence he had. Almost as if he had somehow convinced himself she wouldn't see him in the same way, in the short period they'd been reunited.

"What's my diagnosis?" calmly asked Echo, a hint of the man he'd been peaking through his voice. The smile come back upon eye contact with (Y/N) being made. Yet (Y/N) could see through his unsure act, she could see he was attempting to be who was before to try and regain what he thought he had lost with you.

"You'll live, although further testing is required in the med-bay" responded (Y/N), her normal soft grin appearing upon her lips, she was pleased to have him back yet found herself unsure how to say it without coming across as needy. The moment her eyes landed on him at the native village, she felt her broken heart begin to mend, she felt as if something she lost had been found again. Echo soon reached out for her hand, as she went to move away, the familiar burn of his skin where she had touched him, reminding him of the brave soldier he was and still could be if someone gave him a chance.

"Only if you stay with me" responded Echo, as his fingers gently wrapped around her wrist, feeling the familiar yet welcome burn again. The sense of familiarity overwhelming him as she gave him the all to familiar smile filled with love, the same one she had given him multiple times before when he had flirted with her. The same smile that remained with him during his dull time as a prisoner of war, the same smile he was sure the Techno Union got fed up with seeing, as he often used the memory to block them out when he could.

"You got it Trooper" voiced (Y/N), being sure to memorize every new detail, as she sat next to him. His drastic change in appearance doing little to bother her. She could tell he was still the same Echo, he was still the brave trooper he had been before. All be it a little broken, but she was certain, she could help fix him again, no matter how long it would take. He had unknowingly fixed her broken heart by coming back, so she was more than happy to help fix him in any way she could. Even if it was something as simple as being there when he needed her most.

#Star Wars #Reader #Oneshot #arc trooper echo #arc trooper fives #arc trooper jesse #clone medic kix #Medic reader #ct-1409 #Echo X Reader #Captain Rex #Anakin Skywalker #the clone wars #Echo needs love too

144 notes · View notes

ctrl-alt-tahu · 3 years ago

Text

Meanwhile, Beneath

How long the Toa languished, maskless, in the dungeon into which they had tumbled, none of them were sure. Nidhiki, their insectoid jailor, fed them only occasionally, just barely enough energy to keep them from starving. It is hard to starve a Matoran, for their biomechanical selves will shut down to preserve energy when unable to feed, and it is even harder to starve a Toa, for their elemental powers allow them to draw on energies beyond sustenance.

Nonetheless, in time, even a Toa will fall dormant, if unsustained, and by the measure of how nearly that happened, it must have been months that the Toa were imprisoned. falling nearly to death-staving sleep only to then be fed the thinnest meal of uninspired gruel.

Not that the Toa were unactive in all this time, even if they were unsuccessful. Pohatu and Onua, between them, had confirmed that there was no way to tunnel out: their prison was bounded on all sides by protosteel and warded with spells against their elemental powers. Neither Gali with water nor Lewa with air could summon enough force to damage the doors to their cell, and it was impervious to both heat and cold.

Even if not forced into dormancy, the Toa spent their time conserving energy. It was a time of whispered conversations and lengthy sleep. Previously riven by difficulties with the virtue of Unity, the Toa grew as a team,their companionship in the darkness saving them from despair or the madness of solitude.

They saw little of Nidhiki. Rarely willing to talk, they deduced from his few words that, unlike them, he been alone for a long, long time and that this had warped him. Nidhiki took orders from a “Him”: some powerful, malevolent being that he feared. Onua thought there might be several “Him”s, because Nidhiki rarely spoke clearly or directly, but Onua thought he might be referring to more than one figure of power or fear.

Some time after their third meal, when it was beginning to feel that a fourth might be approaching, which Kopaka thought meant they had been imprisoned for about fifteen months, something thudded onto the closed doors that was roof to their cell.

Pohatu was completely asleep and the others were dozing, but all roused at the sound, even in their lethargic, starved states. Even Nidhiki, out of sight and ignoring them down the hall, heard it, and clattered into view.

“Hello?” came a muffled voice through the ceiling.

“Jaller?” Tahu responded, certain it was the Ta-Matoran. A feeling of protectiveness for his Matoran drove a reserve of strength through him that he didn’t know he had, and his eyes blazed in the darkness.

“Toa... Toa Tahu?” came the voice. “Where am I? I don’t have my mask...”

“Nidhiki,” Tahu turned to look through the bars at their jailor. “A Matoran needs his mask to survive. If you can help at all, I beseech you. I would be in your debt.”

Nidhiki did not answer him, skittering nervously. Something about knowing a Matoran was above the cell bothered him.

“Nidhiki, please,” said Gali. “However Jaller came here, he is not your enemy. Even if you would bring him into the cell with us and give him a Kanohi, we would be grateful.”

“The Mills,” said Nidhiki, shaking his head and only indirectly talking to them. “He should not pass through the Mills. He will not like it.”

“Nidhiki, can you really leave a Matoran to die there?” asked Kopaka. “His cries will continue, perhaps for days: plaintive, desperate. You will hear them: the cries of a Matoran dying.”

Tahu stared at Kopaka and Lewa’s jaw was agape, already imagining the worst case scenario. Pohatu was ready to give his own lifeblood to Onua to break open the doors and rescue Jaller (not considering he’d still be maskless), but Kopaka’s appeal to a Toa’s worst fears seemed to have struck a chord with Nidhiki somehow.

“Must save the Matoran,” he muttered to himself. “Must save the Matoran.”

Then he skittered away, down the hall, out of their sight.

“Why did you say that?” Tahu asked Kopaka in complete dismay, unable to get the thought of Jaller dying a slow painful death mere paces above their heads out of his mind.

“I have a hunch,” said Kopaka.

“A hunch?” Pohatu said in bafflement. “That Nidhiki has a soft side? That he doesn’t like dying Matoran?”

“That he wasn’t always whatever he is,” said Kopaka. “Do you remember what he said, when we first met? He said we should ‘Forget being Toa. Forget you ever heard the adoring praises of the Matoran or that you dream of hearing it again. Toa are empty shells--certainly no match for him’.”

“You remember-thought all that word-speech?” said Lewa in amazement.

“You didn’t?” said Kopaka archly.

“But what does it mean?” asked Pohatu.

“I think Nidhiki is more like us than he appears,” said Kopaka. “Perhaps even once a Toa.”

“You’re either hilariously wrong or a genius,” said Gali. “How could a Toa have ended here, under the ground, and then changed?”

“We don’t know our own origins,” said Tahu, “and the Turagas’ tales leave much in mythic prehistory. They have been very cagey when the phrase “a seventh toa” is spoken. I hope you are right, for Jaller’s sake.”

“Me too...” came the muffled voice of Jaller. “I don’t want to die either, though I feel okay right now. I... I don’t know how I got here. The last thing I remember was looking for the seventh Toa with Takua.”

“Perhaps you did, in fact, find him,” said Onua. “If Kopaka’s guess is right.”

There was silence for a minute, perhaps two, and then the distinctive skittering of Nidhiki could be heard above them. His voice did not carry through the ceiling as well as Jaller’s, but they could tell he spoke briefly to Jaller, who said nothing. Then he skittered away, and there was more silence.

The pause was interminable. Tahu fretted and paced the narrow cell, but the others didn’t have the energy to do anything. The silence persisted. And persisted. Had it been a minute? Five? Ten?

Then, down the hall, where Nidhiki normally lurked, there was a clatter, the sound of something being slammed open, and of movement.

“Nidhiki!” came a heavy, slow voice, though it spoke eagerly. “Nidhiki!”

A lumbering figure, as tall as a Toa and thrice as heavy, stumbled into view. It was still too dark to see it fully, but the Toas’ eyes were now long accustomed to the dark of their cell, and it seemed to them that it was blue and white.

“Nidhiki?” he looked at them, and his right eye, which glowed red in the darkness, tried to focus on them.

“If you open the door, I’ll show you the way,” said Tahu.

“Don’t listen to them!” snapped Nidhiki, who had appeared behind the hulking stranger, one pincer holding an uncomfortable-looking, maskless Jaller. He slapped the large brute with his empty pincer.

“Nidhiki, there is hole!” The brute did not seem bothered by the slap.

“We live in a spirit-forsaken hole,” snapped Nidhiki. “What are you talking about?”

“Hole in the dome,” said the brute. “Hole burst in dome. Burst of light. Voriki went.”

“Voriki is gone?” snapped Nidhiki.

“Voriki gone!” nodded the brute, practically shaking the passage. Nidhiki looked sharply at the imprisoned Toa.

“Open the sea gate,” said Nidhiki. “Let in the Dark Hunters.” He began to twitch violently, as if troubled by something, and Jaller was thrown about, holding onto the pincers for dear life.

The brute cocked its head, clearly confused.

“GO!” ordered Nidhiki. “Who knows how long he’ll be gone?” The brute paused another moment as Nidhiki aimed a kick at him, and then took off at a thundering run.

Nidhiki dropped Jaller and turned to the Toa.

“You can try, if you like,” he said. “The Matoran is new--he has a day or two. There are mask enough, if you look.” He tapped a pincer against a mechanism they could not see, and the bars of the door began to rise. He dropped Jaller and dashed away, spinning up the walls of the passage, and vanishing out of sight before the door opened.

“But our masks!” called Pohatu as he vanished.

Jaller picked himself off the floor and looked in as the Toa staggered out.

“Let’s find where he keeps the gruel and then get you a mask, Jaller,” said Tahu.

“Do we have time to eatdine?” ask Lewa.

“We don’t have a choice,” said Gali. “Without food, we won’t get far. What is it, Captain?”

“You... you look the way you did before,” said Jaller, “before you vanished and returned.”

“What do you mean ‘returned’?” asked Tahu.

“As Toa Nuva,” said Jaller. “You were changed by the energised protodermis...”

A deep, heavy sound like a horn in bass rumbled through the halls.

“Quicker walk, less soundtalk,” said Lewa. “I have a bad heartfeeling.”

#Bionicle #alt-canon #Toa Mata #Tahu #Jaller #Nidhiki #Krekka

24 notes · View notes

monsterrae1 · 3 years ago

Text

Questions Tag Game 🖤

Tagged by the lovely @loveyourownsmiilee

Name: Rae

Star Sign: Scorpio

Height: 5'3" or 5" (I think, I'm tiny; I don't remember exactly)

Time: 11:35 PM

Birthday: November 17

Favorithe band/artist: Taylor Swift, Jonas Brothers, Nick Jonas (his solo stuff) The Rasmus, All Time Low, MCR, Hozier, and many many others, I literally listen to music almost 24/7

Last Movie: I think it was "The thing about Harry"? it's the last one that comes to mind, but it's either that or "The Broken Hearts Gallery"

Last Show: 911, I really haven't had time this week to watch anything.

When did I create this blog: A friend made it for me actually, because she was here all the time and I didn't have social media, but it must've been at some point in 2010, she long ago left her blog and I'm still here, being insane.

What I post: I mostly reblog shit, but I post half-brained meta, complains about my chronic pain/illness, and badly promote my fics.

Last thing I googled: How many cm is 5´3" and 5´5"

Other blogs: @thecasualbookreviewer I talk books, post my favorite quotes from what I'm reading, and review books

Do I get asks: Not really? Maybe 1-3 if I reblog ask games or prompt lists, and usually from the same people, but I don't have that much engagement tbh

Following: 335, but about 50% are unactive blogs that I haven't unfollowed cause I'm too lazy to clean up

Average hours of sleep: Maybe 5 on a good night, it's usualy around 4 non consecutive

Instruments: I probably have forgotten by now, but I used to play the piano when I was in middle school

What I'm wearing: Sweatpants and a cotton tshirt

Dream job: I don't dream of labor, jk jk , I actually always wanted to be a novelist/screen writer but, yeah, idk how likely it is to come true

Dream trip: I have an endless bucket list for places I wanna visit but on the top I have: NYC, Finland and Greece

Nationality: Mexican

Favorite Songs: Too many to remember, but my very favorite since I was like 12, is Sail Away by The Rasmus

Last book I've read: History is all you left me, by Adam Silvera. It broke my heart, 10/10

Top 3 fictional universes I'd like to live in: Supernatural (just so I can hug Dean), MCU (just so I can hug Bucky Barnes) 911 (everyone there needs a hug too)

Tagging (if they wanna do this) @bitchfacediaz @ldntommo @swiftiediaz @adventuresofprettyboyandthekid @proudofourbuddie @gayedmundodiaz @constructiononsunset

#thank you for the tag juju!#question games #about me i guess

10 notes · View notes

tommyinnit-fic-recs · 3 years ago

Note

a d o p t i o n

s u r e ! ! : D

Here you go:

encompass by lightning_anon [Series, Rated T/M, 132,431 words, incomplete, last updated October 2021]

Tommy’s a fuck up, he can’t pay attention, and never sits still. He taps his hands, pushes people away, and has never had a best friend. He’s a screwed up, forgotten kid lost in the foster system. He’s also just been placed with a new family. Tommy knows how this goes, he never ends up staying long. After all, no one wants a fuck up like him.

Why would this house be any different?

Or: the obligatory sleepy bois foster fic, but with a focus on the neurodivergent kids that inevitably get lost in the system.

Guitar Strings and Keyrings are What it Takes to Build a Home by Anonymous [Rated T, 63234 words, complete]

Techno was adopted by Phil when he was 12 years old.

He’d been enjoying his morning before Phil came to him asking if he would mind them taking in another kid. Against his better judgement, Techno agrees and ends up with two new foster brothers who he was determined to not get attached to, no matter what.

~*~

Another Tommy Foster AU but this time with Wilbur

The Case of the Fire Inside by trying_to_spell_both_our_names_at_once [Rated T, 198798 words, incomplete, last updated January 2022]

In the long list of rules that Dream gave him, there were four that stuck out as the most important. Four rules that he could never break.

Stick close to the island when swimming. Always be back before seven. Never complain or hesitate to give Dream his pelt. And never, ever interact with humans.

Tommy didn’t break any of those rules often, and if he did it was a one time thing, a mistake. But this wasn’t a mistake. This was a very deliberate, very stupid move on his part and Dream would kill him if he knew what Tommy was doing. Fifteen years Tommy had lived here, and never once had he intentionally broken one of Dream’s rules. Until now.

He swims closer to the three humans.

Tommy’s a selkie living isolated on an island with Dream as his caretaker. Wilbur, Techno, and Phil are the new lighthouse keepers next door. Surely there’s no way for this to go wrong.

One Day I Met God (Turns Out, He’s an Idiot) by Sunshine_3 [Not Rated, 33856 words, complete]

Every year, the Tournament of the Gods is held to determine who is worthy to gain the favor of the universe’s deities.

This year, Tommy is determined to win, to be the youngest person ever to claim a victory.

Not because he wants to be blessed or anything. He just thinks it’s funny.

——–

An AU in which Tommy Innit is just a mortal vibin’ and doing his thing and the rest of SBI are gods who have claimed him as their favorite.

Starchild by Dragonire [Series, Rated T, 41,897 words, incomplete, last updated November 2021]

The aliens haven’t experimented on him. They’re scared of him and Tommy is glad for it.

Almost all.

The Demon, green-silver-mercury; tall, muscled with golden horns is the only one that isn’t, although he isn’t an active fan of his noise. He doesn’t flinch whenever Tommy screams at him through the glass, when he pounds his fist or charges the door with a ducked shoulder and a brace for bruises, but neither does he appreciate it for long. He, at least, is the only one so far to threaten Tommy.

It had only been a raised hand—the glass between them protecting Tommy from the violence and protecting the alien from his retaliation—but it was a threat, nonetheless. Unacted upon, because in all the weeks Tommy has been in his possession, he hasn’t made a move to come into his enclosure cell and do anything against him.

But that’s just the point. It’s been, weeks? A month? Nearly two?

Tommy knows that the aliens’ patience is going to eventually run out at some point and he’s not keen to find out what will happen next.

He’s expecting violence. He’s expecting pain, he’s expecting blood, he’s expecting….

He’s not expecting this.

Or: Humans will pack bond with anything.

Kick Off by Badnews [Rated T, 17817 words, complete]

Tommy is fucking sick of this, he is hungry and thirsty and just got in several fistfights with the fucking wildest creatures of his imagination. Imagine those boring ‘would you rather questions’ except it’s between a mutant hawk, a seven foot malformed pig, and a shark zombie.

And he basically lost 2 out of 3 times.

—

SBI is Aliens living in space and conveniently, all knowledge about humans is what they are like after they are already dead and their tissues are decomposing so… they don’t have much of an idea of what to do with an alive one.

Double-Dealing by WritingBlockMyHated [Rated T, 51513 words, complete]

Tommy was a good pilot, he had to be. He was one of Dream’s best and took immense pride in it. Decimating fleets and helping Dream’s army push further than ever before. He owes the man his life, Dream was his brother, he saved and raised him and Tommy would give him the world. That’s what he had decided.

Tommy was a fighter. He had been one ever since Dream had taken him in and he would be one until it killed him.

Being captured by the resistance puts a small setback on his plans, that’s all.

—-

or: Tommy fights for Dream right until he’s captured by the SBI. They help him heal.

TommyInnit’s Guide on: How to Deliver Pizza (and find family in the process) by kenziellouise [Not Rated, 36121 words, incomplete, last updated December 2021]

“One large cheese, one large meat lover and one large vegorama, for, uh, es-bee-eye” Tommy reads in a monotone voice, from the receipt, as he holds the pizzas out to the hero in front of him.

“Who are you, and how did you find us?” The Blade deadpans, sword still up to Tommy’s throat.

“Pizza Hut. Someone ordered pizza.”

OR-

TommyInnit gets a job in a city run by heroes. He just wants to deliver pizza, but he really needs a break.

To Establish Connection by SilverWing15 [Rated G, 28032 words, incomplete, last updated September 2021]

“What does that mean – tame?” “It is an act too often neglected,” said the fox. “It means to establish ties.

To me, you are still nothing more than a little boy who is just like a hundred thousand other little boys. And I have no need of you. And you, on your part, have no need of me. To you I am nothing more than a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But if you tame me, then we shall need each other. To me, you will be unique in all the world. To you, I shall be unique in all the world…. /// “Hey!” The prince barks, whirling on him. Tommy lets his hood fall as he bolts away. He stops and spins, like he’s just heard the shout, his ears perked. His heart flutters. The royals hate hybrids and being robbed by one will make the prince furious. So angry that he won’t realize that Tommy is just bait.

OR: Royalty Adoption AU hell yeah

#tommyinnit #fic rec #dsmp #sbi #wilbur #techno #phil #hurt/comfort #angst #fluff #read archived warnings #anon #ask

13 notes · View notes

imagineddworld · 5 years ago

Text

Favorite victim

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Summary: You are Fred’s favorite prank victim, which creates a lot of hatred towards one another. Until a mistletoe proofs you both wrong.

Word count: 2 k (2000)

Author’s note: I am so sorry for being this unactive. Also sorry for the lack of quality. University is taking up all my time and has given me a headache that lasts for a week already. Thanks for understanding. I hope you enjoy this shorter fic.x

You and Fred had a complex friendship, if it even could be considered that. He always seemed to take the piss with you. For some unknown reason you were his favorite pranking victim. It all had started innocent. Hiding your ties, placing your books at the highest shelves that were impossible to reach, and switching your ropes with one of the other houses. Putting potions in your food that made it taste odd, made you sneeze, and made your voice a high pitched squeak. But over time they became more evil. The potions no longer got their innocence. They coloured your hair in plenty vibrant colours, made your nose bleed, and made you cough up feathers. The twins put traps everywhere, so you would trip and get covered in a thick, stinky liquid. In class they made your books explode, messed up your potions so you would end up with a loud explosion to the face and getting covered with whatever concoction was in the cauldron.

It was getting out of hand. Last week they had replaced your soap with one of their own brewed ones. It was supposed to make your head purple, but instead you had started to swell up. Your face felt as if it was about to pop. You angrily approached them during breakfast. “Thanks a lot mate. Good luck explaining to McGonagall why I can’t attend her class”, you threw the soap at them, shaking your head in disappointment. “This hurts a lot”, you said through gritted teeth, before leaving them. You quickly headed over to the hospital wing for the umpteenth time. Later on you found out that you had a bad allergic reaction to one of the oils the twins had put in their soap. Your swelling first got worse, before it vanished. You barely could open your eyes and breathing had became difficult too, but luckily it faded soon enough. Their stupid little prank had resulted in you spending a good few days in the hospital wing. As soon as you were released form your bedrest, you gave the twins a lecture about the dangers of their pranks. Luckily for you they never used that oil ever again. But they managed to cross the line many more times in various other ways. You started to grow more hatred towards the beloved twins. One day they would actually kill you.

Today they had stolen your alarm clock. You were woken up by annoyingly loud ticking noises coming from your closet. Over time it grew louder and more unbearable. As if being late wasn’t bad enough, they also had to steal all your clothes and replace them by those idiotic toys. They didn’t even had any specific shape, just odd metal forms. As if a robot and car got merged together but had melted during the process. After you finally found some clothes, hidden somewhere safe, you stormed out in search for the redheads. They were sat in the common room, happily chatting with some other students. “Weasley!”, you slammed the door shut behind you, angrily stumping your feet on the ground as you made your way over to him. “I swear to Merlin, If i find another of your stupid little - toys- I will personally stick all of them up your throat till you choke to death”. As you were yelling at Fred, you had earned the attention of the whole common room. Even if the constant bickering had become a daily routine, they still waited impatiently for the scene in front of them to unravel into your usual fights. “Wow (Y/n), relax”, Fred showed his famous smirk. He stood up, meeting you halfway of the common room. He towered over your small frame, looking challenging into your eyes. But two could play his game, you didn’t budged as you gave him your darkest, murderous glare. You raised your eyebrow as a signal for him to explain himself, already knowing that only nonsense would be spewing from his mouth. “It was just a joke. Not even a dangerous one-”, the last part of his sentence got cut off by a loud exploding sound coming from the girls sleeping room. Or more specific, your closet. At the same time, the toy in your hand had exploded as well. You let out a scream of shock, while throwing the lightly smoking object to where Fred’s feet were. He jumped as a reflex. His face turned angry for a slight moment, but you could care less. You were beyond furious. The day were he would succeed in killing you, would came sooner than you had thought. “Not dangerous?! Not da-dan- Are you joking me?!”, you stuttered due to your overwhelming emotions, mostly furiousness and hatred. “Well, that’s kind of the point”, he cocked as if nothing had happened. As if he didn’t just could have injured someone really badly with his stupid prank. “I still could have been in there”, you said, hitting him on the chest to have more impact on him. “Someone could have gotten hurt, or worse -” Which each word that left your mouth, you hit him a bit harder. But he didn’t moved at all, he just grinned down at you. As a foolish idiot, loving the sight of your angered state. His smug face only made your anger worse. Nothing would ever sink in his brain, he just brushed it off. You wanted to comment on it, but found yourself unable to. You were just going to waste your time, so you decided to storm off to somewhere you wouldn’t need to see his face again. Somewhere you could calm down.

Once you vanished out of the room and the watching crowd returned back to their daily routines, George stepped up to his brother. “Well well, Freddy. You know we are meant to play nice”, he smiled with a hint of a smirk hiding in the corner of his lip. “Shut it. I’ll play nice when she does”, He glowered, looking like a grumpy little child. “Oooh, so you want her to play nice with you”, George teased, as he wiggled his eyebrows at his twin. “Shut up”, Fred responded again, leaving his twin alone. George just smiled and shook his head at the foolishness of his brother.

Luckily for you, you didn’t saw Fred’s face until your study session. You were nearly done with your potions essay, when a huge amount of ink fell out of the sky. Your clothes were soaked by the black liquid. As you looked down to your desk, you saw your essay covered in huge spots. “Noo”, you said a bit too loud, voice lightly cracking from your exhaustion. Your head shot towards the chuckling sound. “You”, you spat out, as if he were a poison in your mouth. You murderously glared at Fred while approaching him. “What have I done”, he smiled innocent. You bit down on your teeth, clenching your jaw. It was hard not to slap him across the face right now. You dug your fingernails into your palm, while deeply breathing in. “Do I really need to explain it?!”, you grumbled through gritted teeth. “Be my guest”, he smiled, beaming with excitement and mischief. His hands rested on his hips with much attitude. “You- Ruined - My- Essay”, with each word you stepped forwards, closing the gap between the two of you. You slapped your essay onto his chest, staining his clothes with the black ink. “I’ve spent days on it. And you know for a fact that Snape won’t care”, you pushed him away from you, making him stumble the slightest bit. “Ruin your own essay for once”, you said in a small voice, as the previous event slowly started to sink in. You were devastated, all your hard work was for nothing. Your eyes started to water a little. You were exhausted, not only from the long nights you had spend on the now ruined essay; but also because of how draining these pranks had gotten. Ever one of them gave you more reasons to hate these beloved twins.

As you looked up from your ink-covered hands, you saw Fred with a dumbfounded look on his face. Only seconds ago, he was beaming with joy. “What?”, you asked harsh, but nowhere near the intensity it usual would have. He gave no response, so you sighed and tried to walk off. But you found yourself unable to do so. A force kept you in place. “What do you want?”, you muttered in a mix of anger and despair. You were too exhausted and too distressed to have a fight. “Just let me go”, you said with a much softer voice. You were still turned away from him, as you were trying to hold in your tears. “I don’t have a hold of you... I thought you had a hold on me”, he said slow, confusion knitting his eyebrows together. “What? Why would I-”, you started, turning your head back in his direction. As you eyes trailed to his face, you caught sight of something green above Fred’s head. You let out a frustrated sight as you realized what it was. Stupid mistletoe and its bright green leaves.

You pinched the bridge of your nose, totally over this whole situation. You desperately tried to free yourself with some spells. But the mistletoe wouldn’t move, neither could any of you. “(Y/n), you know that won’t work. You should know that. You are lots better at charms than me”, Fred said, sounding sincere. A unexpected heat raised to your face. Fred Weasley just had given you a compliment, what a rarity. “But we need a way to get out of here before any teacher catches us out past curfew”. You used the lame excuse. You truly didn’t care if you were out past curfew or even got caught. You just wanted to get away from Fred before he could pick up on your emotions. Not that he would care. Everything just seemed to be a joke to him, surely when it included you. “I know a way”, he responded casually. But you were unimpressed, showing it clearly with your facial expressions. “Trust me, okay?”, he muttered softly, his voice almost coming out as a whisper. His big hand cupped your cheek, leaving a warmth at the place where your skins touched. “Just this once”, you replied, before his sweet lips pressed against yours. His other hand went to the small of your back, pulling your body tighter to his chest. Your hands lightly tugged on the fabric his shirt, staining it even more with the black liquid. Neither of you caring how big of a mess it would be.

The kiss lasted longer than you had expected. You melted in his touch, losing yourself in the heavenly kiss. Your hands found their way to his jaw and the back of his neck, leaving a trail of blackness everywhere you had touched his soft skin. Only when you broke apart to breath, you realized what had happened. Your eyes slowly fluttered open. You were met with a grinning Fred, who now also was covered in the black liquid. But you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction he wanted. He was not going to get you that easily. “This changes nothing, Weasley”, you suppressed the smile that desperately wanted to curl your lips upwards. You turned away from him, relieved that you finally could move again. You were about to head over to your belongings, when he pulled you back by your arm. “Well, I think it does, (Y/l/n)”, he grinned the biggest smile he had ever had, “Mistletoe only sticks to people who have feelings for each other”. The smug bastard. Of course he would know such a thing. As he pulled you in for a second kiss, you couldn’t help but smile against his lips.

#fred weasley #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x reader #fred hp #fred x reader #harry potter imagine #hp imagine #weasley twins #fluff #Fluffy Imagine

312 notes · View notes

bangtan-madi · 4 years ago

Text

Year of the Rabbit — Seven: Priori

Pairing — Jungkook x Reader, Hoseok x Yoongi, Taehyung x Jimin

Tags — best friend!Jungkook, non-idol au, flower shop au, gym au, florist!MC, gym owner!Jungkook, brother!Namjoon, friends to lovers, slow burn, mutual pining

Genre — fluff, angst

Word Count — 4.3k

Summary — Blame it on the storm or the secret feelings or the snow-in, but one thing is for sure: a lot can happen to two best friends when they're confined to their stores overnight.

Warnings — language

Part — 7 / 7 (Outro still to come!)

Previous — Next

It takes the length of the call ringing for you to totally digest what just happened. Eventually, Jungkook's name fades from the black mirror, and the soft lullaby of "Yellow" fades away. You're left gripping the phone between pale fingers, desperately waiting for him to say something else.

When he speaks again, his tone is soft, barely audible, the most tender-sounding thing you've ever heard. "You're the one I love."

Lowering his phone, his hand reaches for yours. You allow him to use gentle pressure to pry your fingers away, and he tosses them both to the side.

Despite the blood pulsing in your ears, your breath is steady. Disregarding the way your hands tremble when he links his pinky with yours — something you two often do to silently show the other you're there — your mind is blissfully peaceful. Every worry, all your anxieties, the pile of bittersweet emotions you'd kept inside all this time, it's faded like mist.

Jungkook loves you.

You.

Not some other girl, not the one he broke up with over Christmas, not one of the many that come into his gym just to flirt. Of all the lovely women in Seoul that he could've fallen for, he didn't mention their names. He didn't call their number. He didn't spend his New Year with any of them.

He said your name. He called your number. He spent the holiday with you, alone and snowed in, cold and dark at the supermarket.

And suddenly, your eyes are damp and ever-so-slightly burning. Not in any way that allows sadness, but in every way that brings you joy. Your pinky curls around his, but you can't bring yourself to speak or meet his gaze. The boy you adore, standing silently beside you, gives you the time you need. More than anything, you want to throw your arms around him and confess your concurrent feelings. You want to hold him closer than you ever have before. But if you move now, you feel the thin glass pane of the confession will shatter and reality will be the solid stone wall behind it.

Almost as if sensing your disbelief, Jungkook leans closer and tucks a stray strand of hair from your face and behind your ear. "You're my priori," he murmurs, a soft smile visible from your peripheral vision. "My one true thing."

Of all the things you thought having your unrequited love confirmed would feel like, you never thought it would be this. You thought it would feel like flying — or maybe falling — like stepping off the edge and having all the love around you carry you to a new world. You always dreamed it would be like riding a rollercoaster with hands held high, heart racing, screaming at the top of your lungs from euphoria. Surely love feels exciting and thrilling and new, like one adventure after another.

Never in any of your daydreams or sleepless nights did you think love would feel so much like a sentimental song playing in the room beside you. Not unfamiliar, something you know from the past — perhaps even a lifetime ago. But it feels right to your soul, and you can't help but walk towards it. And finding that one you love feels like finding your home, and finding out that they feel the same way is like being handed the keys with the words, "It's yours now."

Love feels settled and secure and safe. It's constant and sure and tender, and you're surprised to have already had those things in your friendship with Jungkook. Then there comes a sense of relief when you see that very little will change between you two — but now you don't have to live with secret feelings and unacted-upon adoration. He's your one constant thing, your one true thing; that much you already knew.

Yes, priori is the perfect word.

"Jungkook..."

"Yes?"

Blinking away the tears from your eyes, you thread your fingers with his and finally raise your head. As your eyes meet, you offer a smile. Instantly, Jungkook's worry fades. Your grasp tightens, and you lift your other hand to tug on the edge of his shirt, prompting him to come closer.

"I think...I love you, too."

Jungkook's dimples pop out as he grins, and something like a squeak slips out beyond his control. His giddiness is infatuating, causing you to giggle alongside him. Suddenly, he's the one pulling you into him. The hand-holding turns into warm-embracing. His arms find their way around your waist and back, his hands gripping you closer. You make a sound of surprise when his cold nose buries into the crook of your neck.

You're just as quick to return the affection. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, and your face nuzzles into his wavy hair. As one fist grips the soft material of his top, the other weaves through the silky locks. Having him this close is nothing you haven't done before; somehow this time feels different.

Just as you start to settle into his embrace, Jungkook's shaking his head against your neck, laughing softly to himself. "What's so funny?" you ask.

"I was so fucking scared you were going to freak out and run away," he chuckles against your skin. "Horrified I was going to lose you."

"Is that why you didn't say anything?" He nods. "How long?"

"Um...years?"

"Jeon Jungkook—!"

"—But especially ever since you left to study in the U.S.," he interrupts, explaining further. "For the first time since I met you, I thought I was going to lose you. Then I realized my feelings were way more than friendly, and that I'd do just about anything to get you back."

You heave a sigh and run your fingers along the exposed skin at the top of his back. "Then why didn't you tell me when I came back? It's been six damn months..."

"Because the fear of losing you was still there," he admits.

"And now?"

Jungkook shakes his head, then presses a kiss against your shoulder. "Not anymore."

"Well, if you're as brave now as you say you are, when are you going to kiss me?"

The brunet pulls away, swift and with wide eyes. He observes your expression for any sense of a trick or joke but finds nothing other than your teasing smile. Your eyes flicker down to his mouth, which only encourages him more.

When you graze your fingers across his shoulders and pull your lower lip between your teeth, he snaps. Closing the distance in seconds, his eager mouth presses to yours. He's soft and gentle, but also excited and insistent. You move with him, your hands cradling his face. One hand remains at your waist as the other migrates to your hair. Neither of you can hide the smiles that slip in between kisses.

"You're actually a really good kisser," he giggles.

"Was there ever any doubt?"

Jungkook pecks your mouth again before responding, "Nope, but I had imagined it so many times I was starting to wonder if anything could live up to the moment in my head."

Your heart skips a beat at his confession, and it doesn't go unnoticed that the tips of his ears turn scarlet. "You imagined us together?"

He nods, brushing the tip of his nose against yours. "More than I should've."

Heart full enough to burst at his adorable nature, you tug him back to you, tugging softly on his lower lip as you kiss. Jungkook takes advantage of the chance to slip his hands under your shirt, earning a yelp from you.

"Wai—Wait," you state, unable to hide the intrusive thought that occurs. "Is this why you broke things off with your ex?"

He groans and pulls away from you, putting mere millimeters between you. "Are you seriously bringing her up right now?"

"Maybe..."

Jungkook rolls his eyes, obviously annoyed with your timing but indulging your curiosity with a smirk just the same. "Yeah. I think she knew I loved you, and we broke it off because of it. But that was a mutual choice."

"And my partners?"

"Oh, they've known since high school."

"What the hell," you scoff with mock horror, bringing his face back towards yours. "You're unbelievable, Gym Bunny."

His grin is wide, showing the very reason for the nickname. "I would say I try, but I don't."

"Shut up and kiss me, idiot."

"You're the one asking ques—!"His complaint is stopped short by your mouth on his, and you press the boundary a little more as you nip at his bottom lip, requesting entrance. Jungkook's lips part, and he steps forward with hands on your hips. Following his lead, you shuffle half a step backward before feeling the sofa put an abrupt stop to your path. Careening off-balance, the pair of you topple over, you barely landing on the cushions before Jungkook awkwardly stumbles and follows suit.

The unexpected puff of air from your lungs has him pushing off of you as much as possible, as soon as possible. Eyes wide, his expression is one of pure shock. Going from an intimate moment to an awkward one is right on par with your relationship. Between that thought and the look on his face, you burst into laughter, throwing your head back as giggles wreck your body.

"Why are we like this?" Eventually, you're able to spout the words.

By this time, Jungkook's concern has faded, and he's chuckling with you. "It's been this many years of a habit," he shrugs. The brunet pulls his upper body up as to perch on his elbows, which are on either side of your torso. As he gazes up at you, he rests his chin on your chest, looking more adorable by the second, though he's not even trying. "Why change anything now?"

As your laughter settles down, you move a hand playfully through his unruly hair, admiring the fact that it's longer than he usually lets it go. He leans into your touch, clearly enjoying the way your nails graze his scalp.

"Kiss me again?"

Jungkook doesn't wait for you to ask twice; in a heartbeat, he's propped himself up on his forearms, leaning over you, and pressing kisses all over your face. Your eyelids, your forehead, your nose—not one section is left untouched. Well, none except for the place you want to be kissed.

"Your aim is shitty."

He pulls back with raised eyebrows, voice sarcastic. "Oh, I'm sorry, are those not good enough for you?"

You shake your head with a smirk. "Nope."

"Mmm, fine. I'll relent."

He closes the distance and molds his mouth to yours. Not even a second later, the whole world lights up. Not in the typically cheesy romantic way, but in the very literal way. The lights in the supermarket come to life, and the machinery keeping everything cold whirs softly as background noise. The streetlights outside shine through the frostbitten windows, and the heat begins to pump warmer air into the space. To your elation, the generator in the back room shuts off, having done its duty to keep everything running as much as possible during the blackout. Even the lights of the storefronts outside the supermarket light up once more.

"Power's back," you murmur, realizing that the night snowed in is coming to an end, and reality will slowly follow suit. Turning back to face Jungkook, you see his face equally as downcast as yours. "I guess that's a good thing, right? At least we can go home and get some actual sleep."

He chuckles, then rests his cheek against your chest. "I slept just fine, thanks."

You bury your nose into his hair and sigh, recalling what you were doing the night prior before the power shut off. "Or I can get to work. I still need to get everything done for that wedding. I just hope the order went through before the outage..."

Jungkook sighs, lifts his head, and mutters, "Can you do me a favor?" At your nod, he continues. "Leave the shop for a few hours. Spend some time with me in a place that's actually warm. Let me get you that shitty takeout I promised you and just...be with me for a while. No work. No worries. Just us." He brushes his fingers against your ribcage, barely under your shirt. "Can you do that?"

Seeing the puppy-dog twinkle in his eyes, you roll your eyes with playful abandon. Your best friend grins, knowing he's won. "Fiiine. But Natsukashii is anything but shitty."

At your promise, Jungkook is eager to return to the flower shop for the bike he arrived on. Step by careful step, you make your way into the storage room, up the ladder, and across the attic overhead. Once down the hatch and into the shop, you're taken back by the shiver down your spine. You can only hope that the handful of hours without power didn't take too harsh a tole on the floral displays in the windows or horticulture pods in the back room.

Jungkook tosses you his sweatshirt, remaining only in a long-sleeved T-shirt. You open your mouth to protest, but he shoots you a glare that says, "Just put the damn shirt on already."

If you thought the interior was chilly, the walkway out front is bitter cold. Jungkook mounts the bike with ease, and he nods for you to hop on the back. After scooting onto a seat probably, no definitely, not made for two, he takes off in the direction opposite your apartment.

"Where are we going?"

"My place, it's a lot closer than yours," he says, glancing over his shoulder for a moment. "If that's all right. I already fed your cat, so she's fine."

You flash a small smile, nodding your approval. "That's perfect."

The ride is thankfully short, and less than five minutes later, Jungkook is pulling up to the front of his apartment. It's inconspicuous, near the edge of the neighborhood, and a perfect length away from his gym. As he parks it at the biking rack outside, locking it in place, you shove your hands into the pockets of the oversized sweatshirt, marveling at how it smells so much like him.

"Isn't Jimin home?" you inquire.

Jungkook scoffs and shakes the snow from his hair. "Not a chance. He spent the New Year with Taehyung. I'd bet money that they're nursing a hangover at the latter's place right now."

"True, and I'll double that bet and say they're not even up yet."

As he joins your side, Jungkook slips his hand around yours and tugs you towards the entrance. "C'mon. It's fucking cold outside and someone stole my sweatshirt."

"You're not playing fair, Gym Bunny."

"That so, Flower Child?"

Once you both push through his front door, gleefully sighing at the warmth the room provides, you're rubbing your numb fingers together. "Can we promise to never do that again?"

"Which? The freezing bike ride or the freezing sleepover?"

"Both!"

Jungkook pokes your cheek as he passes you, a loving smile on his face. "Go change. The snow is melting and you're just about soaked. I'll order the takeout."

Nodding your head, you turn for his bedroom, knowing the way by memory. This is far from the first time you've been over at Jungkook's place, but it's never been like this. It's always been under the guise of being best friends. You never thought you would be sifting through his clothing as someone who's kissed him, held him, or spoken the words "I love you" as a lover would.

A small smile crosses your face when you think back to high school and college. Those times were especially close to your heart. Knowing what you know now — that Jungkook has been hiding these feelings for basically that entire time — it makes certain moments especially hilarious. All those awkward situations, those teasing comments by Hoseok and Yoongi, those embarrassed expressions from your best friend: suddenly it all makes sense.

You pull a different, but somehow still similar, black sweatshirt from Jungkook's closet, chuckling softly under your breath at his lack of variety in loungewear. To pair with it, you find a loose pair of sweatpants and fuzzy socks. Despite tying the drawstrings to a certain length, rolling up the sleeves and pant legs, you still feel drowned by the overly baggy clothing; even on him, this is a few sizes too large.

Just how he likes it.

When you make yourself as presentable as possible, you return to the living room on quiet feet. Jungkook's voice is soft, barely audible from the hallway, but you remain silent as you recognize the voice on the other line.

"You told her?" Yoongi says in shock. "Actually told her? For fucking real?"

"You're joking!" Hoseok exclaims, his voice a little farther from the phone.

Jungkook laughs. Seated on the sofa with his back turned to you, he nods his head once. "Yeah, actually did it, Hyung."

"About damn time! How long have you been friends? Ten years? More? I can't remember, to be honest— Point is, it's been a long time coming."

"How did it go?"

He pauses, running a hand through his hair, before responding, "She...She likes me, too. You were right."

"See—!"

"—and we might've kissed..."

It's nearly impossible to resist the urge to giggle as Yoongi and Hoseok lose their minds over the phone. Half cheering, half screaming, Jungkook's shoulders shake with laughter as he holds the device away from his ear.

"We told you, you idiot!" Hoseok exclaims, his accent coming through. "She's liked you for a long-ass time, you both were just too dumb to see it."

"Yeah, yeah, aish. I get it, okay?" Jungkook's words are snide, but his tone is playful. "I owe you a case of soju."

"Oh, you owe us way more than that for leaving you two alone over New Year's." Yoongi scoffs. "I mean, not that we don't love vacationing in Hawaii, but I was starting to worry you would chicken out."

"I did," Jungkook laughs. "And then [Y/n] kept pressing and asking who I was interested in and eventually..."

"Yeah, she's good at being nosey."

"But honestly? I'm glad she did. I would've stayed quiet, just like all the other close calls before." Your best friend sighs, but the sound isn't sad like you'd imagine. It's more like a breath of relief, as if this is a weight he's been shouldering for a while. "And now I feel like things are changing."

Yoongi hums, instantly picking up on the younger's tone shift. "Does it scare you?"

"A bit?" he replies honestly. "I'm not sure..." After trailing off, he straightens up and rubs the back of his neck. "Hey, I gotta go, Hyungs. She's gonna be back any second. Thanks for everything, even if Hobi-hyung was threatening to spill to [Y/n] over the holidays."

"You had it coming, Jungkookie!" Hoseok snickers from somewhere in the background of the other side. "But I swear to god, if you break her heart—"

"—Bye!" Jungkook hangs up with a giggle, clearly amused by Hoseok's ever-present extra-nature. He tosses the phone onto the sofa beside him and leans back onto the cushions.

You slip into the room, clearing your throat to announce your entrance, before wrapping your arms around Jungkook's shoulders. Resting your chin on the crook between his shoulder and neck, you murmur, "You okay?"

Jungkook nods, leaning his head to the side so that it rests against yours. "How much of that did you hear?"

"Just the very end," you assure. After a beat of silence, you give his shoulders a squeeze. "Nothing's going to change. I promise."

"Yeah, maybe I was wrong about that." He pulls away from your grasp and turns around, arms braced against the back of the sofa so he can meet your gaze. "What if I want things to change? For the better."

You'd be lying if you said you weren't taken aback by his suggestion. All this time, the fears inside you both had been that a step forward in your relationship would mean leaving something behind. Or losing something you love. It's one of the hardest things in the world, to face the romantic feelings you have for someone you've called your best friend ever since you were in school. You know Jungkook feels this way, or at least you thought he did.

"There's no way we'll ever stop being best friends," he continues after you say nothing. He tugs on the edges of your, or rather his, sweatshirt, playing absent-mindedly with the loose string on the hem. "We both know that. But maybe now...maybe we owe it to ourselves and these things we feel for the other to see where this leads? Maybe we should give us a try."

Eventually, you find your voice again. "What are you saying?"

Jungkook closes his eyes and runs his other hand through his wavy hair. The crease between his brows deepens as he struggles to find the correct words. "I was so worried about change because I never considered that it could be good. But maybe it can be. There's nothing that says we have to stop being each other's closest friends if we wanted to give us a try."

"Us...as in dating? Like fancy dinners, movie theaters, non-best friend sleepovers kinda dating."

Heat rises to his cheeks, and suddenly he's stumbling worse than he was before. "I mean—yeah, that's what I was... But only if you wanted to. I was going to ask but—"

The clear embarrassment on his face, paired with the disjointed sentences he never finishes, has you laughing and pulling him to you. Your arms circle around his neck, and you press your lips into his hair. It's been a long time since you've seen him this flustered, and to know it's because of you, how could you not be amused?

"I mean, neither of us are fancy dinner, movie theater kind of people, but I can guarantee I'll take you up if you ask me out to, say, beat your ass at an arcade or out-eat and out-drink you at an all you can eat barbeque and soju night, I would definitely take you up on that. No questions asked. You're my boyfriend now and I will annihilate you without mercy."

Jungkook bursts into laughter at your response, arms wrapping around your middle as his shoulders shake. "In that case, why not do both!"

Pulling back so you can grin down at him, you snicker, "Oh, you're on, Gym Bunny."

Jungkook grins, cups your face in his hands, and pulls you back to him. His lips mold to yours in a sweet and tender kiss. Both of you are smiling into it, and he's nearly about to lift you up and over the back of the sofa and onto the cushion with him before the door buzzer interrupts you both. He pulls away, groaning to himself.

"That's probably the takeout," he says. He presses a second, swifter peck to your mouth before letting you go in favor of the door. "Tonight, we eat takeout and play Call of Duty. Tomorrow, I help you with your order so you're not so stressed?"

You hop onto the sofa, shaking your head as you retort, "Oh, no, you don't have to do that—!"

"—I want to, no buts," he interrupts with a grin, signature bunny teeth pulling at all your heartstrings.

How can you say no to that face?

He backs up towards the door, holding up a finger as if telling you to wait. "One second. I'll be right back with food."

You give two thumbs-ups, returning his cute enthusiasm. "I'll be here."

After he leaves, you shake your head to yourself, wondering how in the world things could shift so much in less than a day. Twenty-four hours ago, you were cooped up at the flower shop, trying to handle a plethora of last-minute tasks, knowing that you wouldn't be home for much of the New Year at all. Your partners on a well-deserved holiday, your parents back home in Ilsan, your brother god only knows where in some random city, you were alone. The flowers were your only companions, and somehow you had come to terms with being okay with it.

You never could have dreamed up a snowstorm, a power outage, and a supermarket adventure with Jeon Jungkook. While it had started out as an inconvenience, now you look back on last night as a welcome turning point. The events that had transpired had been building up for almost a decade. Despite you making a mental reminder to harass Yoongi and Hoseok for keeping things from you when they returned, you find yourself satisfied with how things have unraveled. You hadn't been alone for the holiday after all — far from it.

As Jungkook returns with the door — spouting in an adorable Busan-accented lisp about the overcharge for the extra sauces he knows you love — you can't help the smile that spreads across your face or the love that blossoms in your heart.

Maybe the Year of the Rabbit wasn't going to be so bad after all.

Taglist — @kooala

91 notes · View notes