#the-dread-doggo

[crystalvfae]

guess who's sliding back in your DMs

[mxmorbidmidnight]

How is patch doing recently? Deeply troubled. I didn’t know dogs could have that much existential dread god bless.

[hitomisuzuya]

hiiii! hope you've been doing well and having a good christmas season time!!!💞

not sure if you're comfortable with writing this or not but what about wanderer with a s/o who gets overwhelmed and cries very easily during that time of the month? i just really need some fluffy fluff and you're the best at writing it 🥹

wanderer (scaramouche) x fem!reader. fluffy fluff fluff. period woes. comfort. soft scara

aww merry christmas and happy holidays to you and everyone around the world❤️ i cry very easily during that dreaded time 😭

before this happened, wanderer didn't know he would be thanking himself for having incredible foresight to buy one specific thing for you.

ah, your period. wanderer knew he wouldn't quite fully understand the monster (as he liked to call it) that was your period. he hates that he can't just purge it like he could unruly slimes screwing around too close to sumeru city.

wanderer is frozen with wide eyes. there you are, sniffling and crying with a closed light novel in your lap. he'd in a way sensed when your time of the month is coming, but it still gave him whiplash how the symptoms could suddenly rear their ugly heads at any given moment.

he couldn't imagine what it did to you.

your period also genuinely freaks him out. you are bleeding all the time, therefore you are dying. and you are always in so much pain that it hindered even your movements at times.

"why are doing that nonsense?" wanderer bristled, taking your hands off your face so you would look at him. "stop it," he hates seeing you cry. hates it. he can barely handle it.

"bu-but, the main character died at the end," your words wobbled as you sniffled, uselessly brushing tears away only for more to fall from your eyes.

"did you really like the main character that much?" he asked, glancing down at the light novel in your lap. "what was so great about him?" he was going to try and get to the bottom of this, even if he wasn't the best at expressing himself sometimes. he knew he ran the risk of sounding like an insensitive asshole and making things worse.

"no, not particularly. it's just.." you sniffled again, trailing off as your lower lip trembled.

"hm?" wanderer knew he absolutely had to be delicate in approaching this. please, just tell him how to fix it. it's always hard on him seeing you cry.

"his dog must be so lonely now. the main character promised he would come back, and animals have feelings too. i can't imagine the lonely sadness his poor doggo felt realizing his owner, who cared for him since he was a puppy, wasn't coming back," you are crying more tears now. "the main character is an only child, and his parents are dead. who would take his dog and care for him and love him now? it's just so sad," the words came tumbling out of your mouth.

you buried your face in your hands again, and wanderer let you. he knew you didn't like him seeing you cry.

as wanderer slowly processed what you said, he suddenly knew exactly what to do. he immediately turned and strode to his little hidey spot for gifts he'd gotten you. this one in particular was originally to make up for him being an asshole to you earlier in the week. who knew it would come in handy double like this.

you felt something tap the top of your head. "why don't you ask him yourself? he's right here," you opened your eyes to see wanderer holding a soft, plush dog that looked incredibly similar to the dog you are crying about in your book.

"aw, scara he is so cute," you cooed, taking the plush from him and putting it's nose against yours for a moment. wanderer is incredibly relieved that you instantly stopped crying.

"there, now he isn't going to be lonely or sad. see? he looks happy already," wanderer couldn't believe he was referring to an inanimate object like it was actually alive.

but it sure made you smile.

"he can keep you company while i run out and get some things for you. you need a new heating pad, right?" he hated how hooded your eyes looked from being in pain from cramps and body aches. he was already making a checklist in his head. pads, a heating pad. disgusting chocolate, both kinds.

"i can go with you," you started to get up.

"no. no, just stay where you are," he abruptly held up a hand to stop you from getting up. he could tell it hurt you to even move. he wasn't going to have that. he glared at you a little when you opened your mouth to protest.

sighing, he looked down at the stuffed dog in your lap as he grabbed a blanket to put around you. you would be in less pain while he was gone if you were warm. the concept of heating pads taught him that. "ask the mutt to hold down the fort for me," he knew he sounded incredibly silly, but it was worth it to him to see you smile softly up at him and nod.

before he left, you gave him a quick kiss. "thank you, scara. i love him, he is so cute. you are the absolute best," wanderer's vision on his chest lit up.

[lou-struck]

Not me thinking about... Puppy-Parent Katsuki Bakugo being absolutely terrified to bring your new puppy to the off leash dog park near your home. Even though your pup finally has all their shots and are big enough to run around and play with all the other doggos. 

Even since you brought the little furball home, your living room has been its obstacle course, Katsuki used to complain about the way she would leap off the back of the couch and chase its reflection into the floor length mirror, but as time went on he could barley muster up a scowl when talking about them. 

Getting him into the car with you this morning was a feat, in his state of concern, he kept trying to delay the inevitable by hiding the leash, treats, and poop bags. At first, you thought you were losing your mind until you heard the jingle of your car keys in his pocket and he came clean about everything. 

Your reassurances got him into the passenger seat where he now looks down that the little furball shaking with anticipation on his lap and cannot stop himself from petting the little thing. The motion is calming to him, but it cannot cease the sense of dread that is building up like plaque on his heart. 

Unaware of her fathers fear, she preens under his attention and when your little family pulls into the parking lot, her tail starts to wag excitedly when it can see all the other dogs running free. 

Dogs that are much bigger than she is…

Dogs that look like they could just tear her into shreds…

Glancing over at Katsuki you see he is a white as a ghost. You tell him again that everything will be fine and he shrugs it off lamely saying that he doesn't know what youre talking about

But you both know better...

You walk through the gates into the huge park and shut it behind you, you are holding everything your little pup needs, while Katsuki clutches her leash with a death grip. Although it's time, he doesn't want to unclip his little princess. 

The big strong Pro Hero looks to you for comfort as he gathers up the courage to unclip the leash. As soon as the pink leash embroidered with skulls hits the dirt, your little thing takes off in a sprint towards a large pack of dogs completely unafraid.

He doesn't breathe as he watches them race around trying to sniff all the butt’s they can. His palms are sweatier than normal but you still hold his with yours to ground him. 

You watch over them carefully and are relieved to see that all the dogs are playing together nicely. 

There is no big bite

No one is even growling…

Pretty soon the little furball who has captured both of your hearts is leading the pack, chasing the other dogs around like a boss.

You turn your head to say something to Katsuki and although he would never admit it to anyone, you see that there are tears in his eyes.

[cry4mina]

Granite - Part 2 - (Remastered)

Take Me Back To Eden - Nayeon x fem!reader

Word count: 5.2k

Angst/Attempted fluff met with....angst

Summary: Reader is struggling with the emotions that come with uncovering some uncomfortable truths about their relationship with Nayeon.

Tw: Mentions of drinking, reader has unhealthy coping mechanisms, reader is a little stuck in their head (very stuck in their head), spiraling, nausea, cursing, flash backs, food, cheating, panic attacks, crying, Dahmo is present again, a quick mention of Chaeyoung, doggos (the 10th member of twice and his brother make an appearance) If I missed anything pls let me know!

A/N: This NEEDED to be re-written so bad. Like…soooooo bad. Nothing about the story changed! Just sentence structure tweaks and maybe some more descriptive words!

I hope you enjoy! 🖤

The smell of bacon wakes you. Reaching to your right, your hand lands on a cool slick wooden table instead of your soft sheets.

You are immediately upset that Nayeon isn't next to you.

When you open your eyes you’re met with an immediate headache and the realization that you aren’t in your own bed. Vision blurring through morning light, much like the last 12 hours. Colors and shapes that aren’t distinct but there’s a familiarity in the patterns seen by your hungover eyes.

Usually waking to the sweet sound of Nayeon humming in the kitchen to herself, your chest hollows out remembering the simplicity of the previous morning.

Her showering you with affection from the minute you opened your eyes, her switching coffees with you so you could have the perfect cup, the giggles and glances while bathing together…your heart was dissociating down the spiral of what you had with Nayeon.

Physically shaking those thoughts out of your brain like an etch-a-sketch causes the dull ache behind your eyes to sharpen into a searing burn between your temples.

Blinking rapidly to clear the haze in your sights, you let out a groan at how bright the sun is beaming through the large windows in front of you.

You recognize the living room from the neutral tones of the furniture, the Twice posters framed in black hung perfectly, the fireplace roaring to beat out the chilly air, and the hints of light pink everywhere.

Not even needing to see the dog toys scattered throughout the room to know that you’re in Momo’s living room.

The uncomfortable couch you had fallen asleep on was good for sitting and not for sleeping. Shifting around, trying to sink a little deeper between the blanket someone placed on you and the firm cushion below you but the scream of your lower back was enough to keep you placed right where you were.

The sizzle of the bacon gets louder by the second and the clicking of nails on hardwood floors are now present throughout the house. You hear Boo barking for a piece of bacon followed by a loud hiss.

“Shh!” Followed by a hushed ”Y/n is still sleeping…we’ve got to let her rest- Boo! You better share with Dobby!”

“Don’t worry, I’m awake!” Groaned with a soft smile.

Reaching for your phone on the coffee table next to you and attempt to open it but your screen refuses to flicker on.

“Great” Clamoring to yourself, tossing back on the table in frustration.

“Good Morning, my love” Hearing Momo greeting Dahyun in the kitchen followed by the sound of a quick peck and a sigh; you feel the knot in your chest and the lump in your throat grow.

Hearing the way love is laced within the words Momo speaks when addressing Dahyun makes your skin burn with dread.

A deep ache that could only be filled by who you thought Nayeon was.

Who she might have never been.

The hushed conversation over the sounds of breakfast being made continues as you spiral.

Endless thoughts running through your brain as you try to file them away in their proper place. An attempt to process the feeling of betrayal. You can’t believe you’re even thinking about her doing such a thing.

“Nayeon? Cheating? She couldn’t…could she?” The woman who would threaten the Sun if it burnt you, the same woman who was so gentle with you, always making sure you felt safe and loved.

It feels like acid is eating away at your frontal lobe while the knife twists against the memories that flooded back to you. A melting brain trying to talk you out of accepting what you saw in her wallet.

Dehydrated.

Hungover.

Heart broken.

A triple threat.

While you try to derail the train of thought that was plaguing your mind, the sound of nails and the shifting of floor boards as someone walks over to you gets louder with each second. The dogs run ahead to jump on the couch and greet you, laughing as they try to lick your face giving them equal attention without rising from your position.

“Good Morning, Y/n-nie,'' Averting your eyes from the dogs to see Dahyun smiling down at you on the couch with a bottle of water raised up by her face. She gave a little shimmy and posed with the bottle to try to get you to smile.

“Good Morning, Dahyunnie” The dogs jump down when they hear the sound of Momo placing food in their bowl, scurrying off rapidly to their respective spots for breakfast.

Sitting up while Dahyun holds her hand out with some medication, patiently waiting for you to pop them in your mouth before handing you the glorious bottle of water.

“You are a saint,” while cracking opening the bottle, only to chug half of it before coming up for air, gasping at how great the cool liquid feels going down your throat.

Sitting down next to you, she waits for you to say something…anything at all. She doesn’t want to push you into more discomfort than you are already experiencing.

Eyes scanning the coffee table to see an empty tequila bottle, your dead phone, and 3 empty glasses. A sigh leaves your lips. Not being much of a drinker at all, you’re surprised at yourself for the amount of alcohol you ingested to void yourself of feelings entirely.

The problem with that, is that now you weren’t numb. Arms feeling heavy at the weight of the emotions you are carrying, the couch you are sitting on feels like it’s swallowing you whole as you sink slowly into the void of absolute devastation.

Jaw tensing as your eyes start to water.

The way her voice shook when she told you it wasn’t what you thought it was, echoing in your head, reverberating against your hangover and swollen eyes.

“Has she ever lied to you before? How long has it been going on? Did...did she really let someone else touch her?” Your body felt drenched in filth and in need of a shower.

Staring boldly into the fire as you navigate your deep dejection, you watch memory after memory rush into your mind’s eye.

The earlier attempt to fend them off, failing miserably.

A gray washed melancholy glazed over your facial expressions contouring your usually cheery demeanor into a desolate fog encapsulating the sun and giving more life to the deep shadows that mirror what’s in your soul.

Dahyun watched all your emotions sulk their way onto your face.

“Do you want to talk about it?” quietly inquired, trying to shake you out of the hopeless spiral you found yourself on.

“I don’t even know what to say. I have so many questions but Nayeon…” Flinching at the name as if someone just poked your tender heart with a sharp sewing needle

“…and this “J” person, only have the answers.” Another wave of gray as you realize what you’ve just said.

Hearing it in your own voice allowed the pieces to settle one by one. Pulling heart strings from the knot that was created over a flimsy piece of paper.

A single tear falls from your eye as Momo saunters in with 3 plates of food, handing you and Dahyun one before sitting down on the other couch, opposite you and her girlfriend.

“Thank you.” You can hear the cool slated tone of your voice as you try to hide the emotional turmoil you were drowning in.

“Thank you for letting me stay here and for being there for me. I’m really happy to have friends like you.”

They both smile empathetically with their mouths full as you take a bite of the salty strip of bacon.

—

With breakfast finished, Dahyun and Momo started to pack. Twice would be heading to Japan that afternoon for their schedules and wouldn’t be back until the middle of the following week.

Sitting at the foot of their bed and helping them decide which outfits to bring, you catching and folding the clothes that were thrown at you, tucking them neatly into the suitcases.

You lightly sigh, trying to not bring attention to yourself as you reminisce in silence about the last vacation you took with Nayeon. It was almost the same routine you were experiencing with Momo and Dahyun in the moment.

The chaos that was Nayeon packing was one of the most unorganized things you’ve ever experienced. The first time you watched her try to get everything together for a trip you had to stop her 5 minutes in as she was sitting on a suitcase of shoes trying to close it enough to get the zipper to budge.

She hated packing and would just throw the jumbled mess of clothes into a case and call it good which drove you insane even if it was cute watching her try to close that over stuffed suitcase.

When you started living together, all of that changed.

Sitting down on your bed and watch her showcase outfit after outfit to decide what to wear. You loved being able to help her decide between the colors and fabrics because it meant spending time with her.

She seemed to hate packing less too. Wondering how she’s fending trying to do it by herself as you redirect your attention to Momo while she speaks.

“Y/n, I know you know you’re more than welcome to stay here while we are gone,” Momo pulling a black sweater vest with a turtleneck off the hanger and tossing it to you without looking.

“I know you’ll probably go back to the apartment but I want you to know you don’t have to stay there if you don’t want to. Our guest bedroom is always open to you…or you can sleep on the couch again, if you prefer.” Side eyeing you, she knows how much you hate sleeping on that couch.

You all share a laugh while you neatly fold the garment and place it on top of the already organized stack in the massive suitcase.

“I think I'll pass on the couch, but I might take you up on the offer for the guest bedroom depending on how everything feels at the apartment. I need to get a change of clothes and some stuff either way.”

Momo nods her head, “You know where the spare key is, if you need it.”

—

Damp soggy streets and the sounds of cars passing is what fills your drive home. Fixating on the sound of rain tapping the windshield and the slosh of the tires in the puddles splayed out over the roads.

Anxiously heading back to the apartment, muscles tensing throughout your body as you get closer and closer to your shared home with Nayeon.

Hoping she’s already left for the airport so you don’t have to have the uncomfortable conversation just yet. It would be better to wait until you’ve fully processed what’s happened and gather your thoughts, right?

You do want to hear what she has to say but you need to be calm in order to react in a way that is best for you and your needs, just in case you have to only rely on yourself again.

Stopping at a red light, you patiently wait for the bright green to flash again as if it carries you home. The drive isn’t a long one but not knowing what’s waiting for you is creating what feels like a long time on the commute.

Looking down at your hands and fidget with the dry skin, something Nayeon would lightly swat at your fingers for doing.

If she saw you anxiously tapping your leg, touching your hair, or scratching at the sides of your fingers she would scoot closer to you, placing her hand on your thigh. Tracing small hearts, your initials and her initials, among other patterns, to get you to fixate on something else.

Self soothing now feels like a chore, you want to allow your spiral to run its course, sucking you into the disheveled thoughts occupying your headspace and filling your lungs with sharp cries.

The bright green of the traffic light reminds you you’re driving as you push the clutch in with your left foot, lifting your right off the break and accelerating with the gas. Clutch in again, shift to second, the balancing act of a stick shift car was almost too much today.

Too many thoughts swirling and you wished you didn’t have to pay attention so much. Though it was probably for the better as safety is allegedly important.

You roll your eyes as traffic stops you from proceeding. Just wanting to go to a familiar place and sit still with yourself in safety and these cars are blocking up the roads.

The entrance of the front office to the building being crowded by people with cameras. The car in front of you being halted by a security guard so the people congesting the roads don’t get hit.

Quickly realizing what’s happening, your eyes focus on the grooves of the woven leather on your steering wheel. Fiddling with them to try to distract yourself from all the commotion outside of your vehicle.

The camera’s clicking and can see the flashes in your peripherals tempt you to look up.

Temptation wins…you momentarily look up to get a view of Nayeon from your car window. The tints aren’t dark enough to shield you from her but the camera flashes might blind her enough to not see you.

She’s wearing a loose wrinkly sweater that belonged to you, sweatpants, white sneakers and a pair of dark black sunglasses. Her makeup doesn’t appear to be done and her hair is tucked into a messy bun.

Your heart bursts into flames at the sight of her.

A tear trickles down your cheek. You want nothing more than to embrace her, to feel her on your skin again, to feel the safety of your partner.

Remembering the note, the singular initial repeating in your head, remember what…or who, brought you to this emotional state in the first place.

Not allowing the visual of her to comfort you, not this time.

She’s waving to the cameras and doing hand hearts while walking towards the black SUV that’s there to take her to the airport when she sees your car.

Watching the revelation click in her head, she immediately stops walking and looks through the crowd to see you through your not tinted windows, trying to hold yourself together.

Mouth ajar and sadness creeping into her skin. Making eye contact for what feels like hours before she composes herself, cameras still blindingly flashing as she gets into the SUV.

Hearing the door close, you see the window in the back seat roll down, opposite of the crowd. The bigger car pulls out of the entrance to the complex and right up next to you.

Heart beating at an alarming pace as she sticks her head out of the window and removes her sunglasses. Her eyes are red and swollen with bags under them. She definitely didn’t sleep last night.

Realizing that she’s motioning for you to roll your window down, you comply quickly, hoping that it’ll be brief.

“Hey…Is your phone dead?” Barely louder than a whisper, sniffling through the short sentence.

Nodding your head slightly, you have trouble making eye contact with her, not wanting to face what she’s done…even if you aren’t really sure what that means yet.

A beat of silence drums between the two of you as you awkwardly shift in your seat. The stiffness of your lower back proceeding to yell at you again from a combination of sleeping on the couch and the stress you were under.

Choosing to break the silence with exactly what you expected.

“Can we talk when I get back?”. There is a glint of hope in her voice.

It hurts to hear.

You hadn’t blocked her, you rolled your window down, and you haven’t pulled off yet (not that you could with traffic) so you’re still present in some sense.

Nodding your head again, you agree to the hard conversation.

Smiling softly at you, her cheeks rising up as she goes to speak again when you hear the driver husks “Miss Im, I’m sorry to interrupt but you do have a plane to catch.”

She nods her head at the driver then brings her attention back to you.

“I left you something on the counter and there’s dinner in the fridge for you…I didn’t know if you’d be home and wanted to make sure you remembered to eat... I love you, y/n” as the SUV slowly starts to drive, picking up its pace quickly as it continues down the street.

—

Once the crowd dissipates and the smoke clears, you pull into your designated parking spot with haste. Quickly pulling the E brake and putting the car in neutral so you can take in what just happened. Not many words were shared, but you felt every single one of them echoing in your mind.

Grabbing your keys as you replay the “I left you something on the counter and there’s dinner in the fridge for you. I love you, y/n” in your head over and over again as you make your way up the elevator.

Walking up to the door, you hesitate to open it. The thick dark wood is intimidating as it glares down at you belittling your right to walk through it. Shiny golden numbers reflect the bright lights back at you as you reach for your keys hanging from your hip.

Skin prickling as you register that she won’t be on the other side of that waiting to hug you after a long day. The usual routine that happens when arriving home isn’t the same.

Bracing yourself, slide the key into the lock and turn. Hearing the mechanism click as the cog turning inside, turn the knob in tandem to reveal your kitchen.

Closing the door and locking it behind you, you absorb the atmosphere around you. The lighting is dark due to the overcast sky and lack of lights. The silence is loud as the room breathes around you. Your eyes pan over the room to find a bouquet of roses in a crystal vase on the counter.

Originally purchasing that vase to fill with flowers for her, now she was returning the favor. You take in the way the crystal shimmers with little to no light and the refractions of red coming off the sparkling corners that were etched into the filigree carved into its surface.

Flicking the lights on to reveal the spotless granite countertops, you realize that someone might have been stress cleaning. You remove your jacket and hang it on the rack on the back of the door hesitant to take your shoes off.

Your eyes hit the ground when you realize that the once sanctuary doesn’t feel safe. Pushing through the feeling, you put your shoes in their normal spot next to the door.

Gliding through the kitchen with an ease you were forcing, you search for the comfort you once had, plugging your phone into the charger on the counter.

The soft smell of roses permitting the room. Admiring them, you notice an envelope with your initials and a heart scrawled on it in bright red ink next to the vase.

Picking up the envelope, you stare at it tracing the edges of the thick paper with your fingers.

Would she write the answers to your questions here? Or would she wait until you asked? There’s only one way to find out, and you were sure you were too sober to pull the trigger.

Going into the cabinet, you pull out a wine glass and immediately turn for the fridge. Searching the shelves for the bottle that was already open. You pull the container of food out that Nayeon made for you, immediately getting nauseous at the idea of eating so you place it back on the shelf.

Realizing that the bottle is missing, she had done exactly what you did the night before.

Drank the pain away.

Biting the inside of your cheek knowing you and her both were going through discomfort, a realization you had yet to face.

You grab the unopened bottle of white win out of the door of the fridge and close it firmly behind you.

Pouring yourself a glass and chugging it quickly. You pour another while making a face, swallowing the bittersweet liquid.

Walking over to the trash can to throw the foil out, still feeling guilty about not being able to comfort Nayeon, you toss the small frail metal into the can when something familiar catches your eye.

The tattered paper from her wallet lay on top of the empty bottle you were searching for moments ago. The letter ripped in half, one side of it facing you- the signature present in black ink.

Rage shoots through you like hot liquid metal when you see it. Remembering that she could have actually betrayed you and here you are being upset that you weren’t there to comfort her?

Yeah okay, Y/n.

Eyes flickering back to the envelope she left for you…hesitating for a moment.

“Nope.” Said out loud for no one to hear.

Your phone starts vibrating endlessly, you run over and turn it on silent knowing the amount of notifications you were about to receive.

Grabbing both the bottle and the glass of wine, you head for the couch to get drunk and watch your favorite comfort movie.

—

The first night back, you decided to sleep on the couch.

Ultimately, sleeping there for another 2 full days. Only moving to go to the bathroom and get some water, allowing your body to rest and recover.

The bed seemed tainted and would probably smell like her, you didn’t want your body to relax into the false sense of safety it had been used to.

Not answering your phone or even look at the notifications, pretending it did exist and basking in the solitude. By day three you realized people might start to worry about you if you didn’t reply to them. Usually replying pretty quickly so it would be off if you didn’t say something to them.

Filtering through your notifications, you answer everyone but Nayeon. Momo had checked in with you and called you a few times leaving voicemails that got more threatening since you weren’t replying. Immediately calling her back to let her know you were breathing.

“Thank god you’re okay! I was going to head to your house straight from the airport if I didn't hear from you before we got back!”

“That’s very sweet of you, Momo-ssi. I’m doing alright just trying to take it day by day…or minute by minute, rather.”

“I understand. Have you talked to her yet?”

Hesitating to reply, knowing that you’re avoiding communication with her in fear of what the truth could be. Momo notices this almost immediately and nods her head as if you can see her.

“I take that as a no, then?”

“Yeah…I just- I don’t know, I’m scared of what happens next.”

Momo sighed empathetically.

“Sometimes you just have to take the next step, no matter what it brings.”

She was right so you tried to deflect.

“How is she?” your mouth utters before your brain could catch up.

“She seems off. You can tell she’s doing her best to try to keep it together. Less bubbly. Chaeyoung mentioned your name and she immediately went pale and changed the subject.”

Pressing your lips together, the back and forth of feeling guilty for not being there for Nayeon and feeling sorry for yourself was getting old and you were exhausted from the strain you've been putting on your nervous system.

“Momo, can I let you go? I guess I have to read these text messages.” begrudgingly said through a sigh.

“Yeah, good luck! Call me back if you need to talk about anything okay?” saying your goodbyes and hanging up.

No longer ignoring the task at hand, you open your text messages to read the 3 days worth of messages. At first they’re all panicky. A lot of begging for you to answer the phone, a lot them just simply saying your name.

They soon delve into “I miss you”, “I love you”, “Please come home” and “You mean everything to me” texts. A few of them were unintelligible, definitely sent after all the wine she consumed.

Some from the day she left for Japan, asking how the dinner was and if you read the note. A few more “I love you”s sent throughout the last few days.

Placing your phone on the table, you run your hands over your face, keeping your fingers over your mouth.

Opening your voicemails, put your phone on speaker and start to go through the ones from Nayeon. They’re all really hard to listen to. The first few especially.

“Y/n, please answer the phone! We can work through this! It’s not as bad as it seems, I swear! You are the only person I want to be with. Please call me back.” Sobbed into the microphone.

Heart cracking at the shakiness of her voice and the sadness dripping through your phones speaker.

Through the voicemails you can start to hear her words slur. The memory of how you were accepted by her members floods back into your brain again.

However, this time the joy is absent from the flashes of love. Only sorrow sits. The last voicemail she left you was from the morning of the day you came home. More of the same contents, but with sniffles instead of sobs.

You sit for a second to collect yourself. The envelope on the table, patiently waiting for you to rip open it’s seal and explore the contents.

Taking a deep breath, you pick it up. Slowly run your thumb between where the paper is stuck together, being sure not to damage anything inside. A pink slip of paper is neatly folded inside. You discard the envelope on the table and unfold the bright page and start reading.

“My Love,

I need you to know that you are so important to me. You are my safety. My guiding light. I’ve never felt as loved as I do when I’m with you. Please know that I am sorry for everything and I will explain when I get back. I hope you’re still home when I return.

With all the Love,

Nayeon”

Your heart sinks.

What do you mean you’re sorry for everything? What is everything? More questions and no answers.

Picking up your phone to call Momo again and vent about the apology you just received because all of the context is missing.

The phone rang once, twice, and the third ring was interrupted with a familiar voice.

“Hi Baby,” Freezing immediately, you are unsure of where to go from here.

Deciding to use the emotions you’ve been hiding as courage and ask the questions you’ve been holding onto for the last week.

“How long?” Cold. Stern. Angry.

Silence fills the other side of the phone as you wait patiently for the answer.

“Do you really want to do this right now? Can’t we wait until I get home so we can talk in person?“

“No, we are going to do this on my terms. How long?”

Nayeon sighed as you heard a door close through the phone as she separated herself from the rest of Twice.

“...it only happened once…a few years ago…it was a few weeks after you asked me on our first date.” Flinching when her voice cracks.

Tears silently trickle down your face as you focus heavily on the admission of betrayal.

“It hasn’t happened since. I messed up and I realized that. Please know I wouldn’t ever ever do something like that again.”

Heart is racing as you feel your cyclical emotions take control again. Anger, nausea, fear and betrayal dance around your chest as the words spill out of your girlfriend's mouth.

“Why was the note in your wallet?”

“I just switched wallets, it was in the black one I was using last week and I just didn’t throw it away.”

“Nayeon, Who is J?”

A long pause as you wait for her to say the name of the person who helped defile your relationship. She sighs heavily, you can hear her shaking.

“Can we please just talk in person tomorrow when I get back?” she pleads.

“If you’re not going to tell me, I’ll hang up. I don’t need anything else from you besides that information.” Voice overlaying in thick ice as the shards of what she broke fly out to hit Nayeon’s chest.

This is agonizing for both of you and you aren’t going to wait around for her to decide it’s time. You were the one who got cheated on, not her.

Never even thinking to do that to her so you would not be extending any grace.

“Y/n…”

Silently waiting for your answer that she is refusing to give.

“I’ll see you around, Nayeon.” As you move the phone away from your ear to end the call.

Faintly hearing her protesting but you hang up without fully hearing what she was trying to say.

Slamming your phone down on the coffee table when you feel the adrenaline release, chilling your veins down while your breathing starts to shallow and quicken. Switching your breathing into manual as you try to stop the panic attack before it gets worse.

Long deep breaths only get you so far. Your hands and lips start to tremble as your chest tightens. Feeling the need to stand up and run out of the building but are too light headed from the hyperventilating, you’d just fall over if you even try to stand.

Catching a glimpse of your phone lighting up from a text message. Lifting your phone to read who it’s from.

Momoring: I’m sorry, I didn’t see that she grabbed my phone when you called. Are you okay?

Momoring: Nayeon just walked back into the room crying...

Starting to type a response through trembling fingers when another message banner drops down, catching your attention.

It’s Nayeon.

Reading the text to yourself, mouth gaping when you realize this is the information you had asked her for on the phone. Shooting up out of your seat in a pure rage.

“Oh, You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!”

[fallenangiefnaftrash]

I don’t care about Poppy Playtime that much..buuuuuut. I’m not gonna lie Ch3, was without a doubt, gives the feeling of Dread and major creep factor. And I love this Doggo and Cat

[backfromotterspace]

The original orb and dagger mage, the fearsome Dread Doggo

[midnightfries]

Fuck it we ball

Alphys (and flowey) centric au intro, ill draw it soon enough, it doesn't have a name yet!

Things are inconsistent here but i wanted to get it out so im forced to think about it more, anyway here you go

_____

Undyne told her to try and evacuate as many as she could, and so she did. She didn't wait, got out of the lab and showed her face to a larger public than she had in a long time. The human would not have access to the lab unless she gave it to them and she would not, but.. Only so many could fit there. And some were not very easy to find, so it was not only that.

But she did know there was more space she was not showing them. She did not want them to come out of this even worse, with the knowledge that their families were.. In that state. Not that some would, residents of Snowdin had dusted without ever finding out. She did feel guilty. That there was more space she just was not showing, that she could bring in more people like she told Undyne she would, but she was nothing if not a coward, so after she did all she could, she went to the locked lab herself.

She watched the human on their journey, killing monsters who might have been safe if she had just opened this place up for the others to see and judge. She felt strange, not having spent all that long down here for a while.

She saw one of the Amalgamates, the doggo family. It approached her without initiating a FIGHT, and let out a disjointed whimper, pressing one of its heads against her, probably sensing her anguish. She gave it a pet, whispered an apology to it- to them, and kept watching the screens anxiously.

There was another feeling she couldn't categorize, but she chalked it up to dread from this whole situation.

Then the human stopped.

The world went black.

*Alphys! Wake up! Stay determined!

[bloedewir]

Thinking about the "Fen'Harel" naming it seems truthful Solas got it as a mockery. A wild animal among Creators, Keepers and Gods. Even Ghilan'nain isn't just a halla but Mother of hallas. I like the idea. Anyhow it still sounds cool and frightening

Yet in dai it was mentioned previous translations could be wrong and it's not a "Dread" Wolf but quite possibly a "Rebel" Wolf (Codex entry: The Rebel God)

Impressive title too. Especially after the Fen'Harel rebellion story revealed in Trespasser DLC. It sounds inspiring and something something but if it's really the Rebel Wolf.. it means disobedience, right?

So. Evanuris called Solas a bad doggo.

Elgar'nan was literally like: hey boy, don't go in dat dayymn watehh I'm o'erhere, don't go you gawn got wehht! ayeeee ain't gun take you howme, awww come ownnn.. he got his daymn feet weht now shit- dawg (original)

[skellymom]

Possible "Vagabonds" fan fic future excerpt

With a eulogy to "Tiggy" the Space Doggo

For reference, this might possibly fit in a future installment for my ongoing series "Vagabonds" To read for more context:

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/738467105361494016/vagabonds?source=share

There is an extremely personal message at the end of the excerpt. Been sitting on this news for several weeks and needed to get it out. Opened my word document to find this excerpt. Had written it MONTHS ago. So here goes:

Warning: Very brief violence and talk of death.

Background: Wrecker and Tech are on the Marauder with the newest group of child refugees they rescued from the Empire. Unfortunately a nosy pirate looking for a bounty reward sneaks aboard. (Hunter and Echo are away on the Dread Beldame with Mad, Sil, and Love.)

The pirate advanced on the crew of the Marauder, pointing his weapon and threatening everyone aboard.  Several of the children started to cry out of fear. 

“Ehh, you’re scarin’ the kids!” Wrecker angrily pushed back. 

The pirate smiled creepily, licking his lips. 

Tech kept his cool, quietly watching the situation.  He looked like he was waiting for...something. 

“Whattaya lookin’ at, ya goggle eyed Gungan?”  The pirate snarled. 

“Your speedy demise.”  Tech sassily quipped. 

The toddler pointed to the dark brindled shadow quietly creeping up behind the pirate, “Tiggeee Goggeee.” 

Tech stoically gave the command: “Ra’mor!” 

She was upon the pirate in a flash. Took him down by the back of his neck, shaking furiously. He didn’t last long. Wrecker grimaced and grabbed the toddler in his arms while pushing the rest of the children behind him, shielding them from the sight. 

“Let slanar!” Tech barked.  

Tiggy released the mangled pirate.  

“Briik laam.” 

Tiggy immediately ran to and healed at Tech’s left side, clacking her pearly teeth excitedly. 

“Jate Tiggy. Wrecker, please dispose of the body immediately. As far away from the ship as possible.” Tech held his hands out for the toddler, which Wrecker dutifully handed over. 

“Awww...I ALWAYS get the dirty work!” 

“Wrecker, you are the best man for this job. Remember, no shallower than 6 feet. We don’t want his companions to find him. Come children...we are safe now.” 

"Tiggy" was based on my Amish rescue "Petunia" I obtained from work. For those of you who don't know, I am a certified veterinary nurse and work at a 24 hour veterinary ER. She came to us sick and injured at 4 WEEKS old.

Attacked by her own mother and possibly needing corrective surgery for necrosis of that wound, it looked dire. The Amish don't spend a lot of money if they don't think they can recoup the investment. Her heavily infected wound burst open all over my scrubs. She was TINY and helpless. I couldn't say no.

We kept her until she was a year: paid for medical care, orthopedic surgery, vaccines, meds, training, spay surgery, the works. Unfortunately, due to her being a high drive Dutch Shepherd, we could not keep her. This breed is known for their mercurial nature and sometimes aggression. I knew there was a VERY slight chance we could keep her, especially with 2 geriatric dogs in the household. She wasn't my first rescue, either. Petunia spent time at a shelter for police and military dogs, and was evaluated for bite work. Unfortunately, she passed from the wave of respiratory "Doggie Covid" that is sweeping the US right now. With some dogs medical treatment works...with some...they don't rally from the infection. We feel sick about this and sadly miss "Looney Petunia."

She now lives on in a galaxy far, far away. Love rescued her and she fiercely defends that Force sensitive teen, their family, and The Batch. She will forever track prey with Hunter, ride on Wreckers shoulders, snuggle with Omega, lay at Crosshair's feet while he polishes his rifle, listen dutifully to Tech's commands...and steal Echo's prosthetics.

She LOVED to watch TV too!

PLEASE like, comment, and/or REBLOG!

IF YOU WISH TO BE ADDED OR DROPPED FROM MY TAG LIST, PLEASE MESSAGE ME! Don't just comment as I might miss it. Thanks!!! <3

[fafnirhumgy]

another error message.

marmalade sunk back in his seat with a sigh, the ever dutiful gamma bringing him refreshments to clear his mind. for all that yuuki adhered to the traditional makeup of any general reyvateil, there were just as many aspects where he didn't. some were obvious - he was a boy rather than a girl - and some were rather genius - his telomeres were quite reinforced, possibly explaining why his need for diquility only extended to pain relief and not life support - while others were obtuse by the means which his existence was possible. on paper, the redirect from a traditional cosmosphere to the genometrics was a good idea. in practice?

well, if the weird visual on his screen of a weird tree wrapping its roots around a pillar of metal was any indication, it was just a bit more complicated than he was prepared for. and the less said about the weird beastly parts in his h-waves, the better.

then again, though he didn't know the exact details about those strange mutations, he did at least know what they were. and that, he could work with.

"..."

unfortunately, that wasn't much either.

another sigh.

"well, gamma, i'm big enough to admit i'm lost on this matter. looks like i have no choice."

his metal companion tilted his head as the professor sipped the offered drink and reached for a barely-used rotary phone. it was the phone, the one he always dreaded using. he had an inkling as to what was about to happen next, but it still warranted asking:

"what will you do, professor?"

"...i have no choice but to ask them for help."

a few short whirs of the wheel, the softly ringing dialtone of the phone, and the seconds-long wait that felt like an hour began...

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

"oh yeah, we're free! we'll take a quick pit stop at the town we're at and we'll fly right over. see ya!"

click.

betel looked down at the giant canine monster he was perched upon, his prosthetic arm checking its vitals and sending back all green. well, it was pretty disingenuous to call the beautiful creature he was on a "monster", but that was the scientific term, so what can ya do. his cohort, the "song-beast" draco, was keeping the big doggo occupied by yapping its ear off about something... related to sea shells?

"hey kiddo, you can stop with the seafood talk, you're making me hungry over here too."

a playful raspberry. huh, he was getting pretty good at understanding the song language draco's kind used. seriously, would it kill anyone else to put in the effort to learn even a little bit of the language and what these people called themselves?

the pink dragon perched on his shoulder and switched to common, for his sake. "so, boss, where to next?"

"sage's island. we're finally coming come to nrc!"

"oh yeah, you told me all about that place... isn't it where all the stuck-up douches li-"

"NOT just the douches, i know a few cool people there."

"right, i remember! your childhood crush!"

"yeah! you re-"

betel's face goes flush as he begins sulking.

"let's just go, okay draco?"

"hehehe! you're the boss, boss!"

with a great jump, the small dragon suddenly morphs into a very big dragon, large enough for betel to perch on their back.

one, two, three wingbeats, and they were off to night raven college like a pink winged comet.

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

crowley sneezed.

"...why do i get a feeling my precious budget is crying?"

[lesbianwyllravengard]

HI LETO!!! 11 for freydis and josie, 14 for marian and Her Dreadful Little Polycule, 3 for inquisitor chantry bomber anders and dorian :)

YIPPEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE <333

Ask game

3. What is something that always reminds them of their partner?

Again I think books in general just remind Anders of Dorian. But also snakes. And anytime he sees ice he thinks of Dorian's eyes even tho Dorian would hate that. And then cats remind Dorian of Anders

11. Have they said "I love you"? If so, when was the first time?

Yes, absolutely, they say it all of the time. Freydis said it first and she said it before the game's canon of during the duel for Josephine's hand but Josie didn't take her seriously until then. It was always "I love you" when Josephine would make Freydis laugh so Josie kinda thought Freydis was saying it like you would to a friend 😭 that's why during the duel scene Freydis is like "??? Because I love you!!!" like girl I've been saying that this whole time. Now, when one of them says it the other says it back, but Josephine tries to say it randomly to surprise Freydis bc usually Freydis says it first and Josie thinks it's cute when she's caught off guard

Freydis: so this afternoon we have a meeting with the-

Josephine: I love you

Freydis: oh. 😳. I love you too 🥰

14. Do they have any pets? If not would they consider getting one?

They have TOO MANY pets 😭 Anders and Merrill love cats so much and Merrill somehow comes home with a new cat following behind her like every other day. She doesn't even do anything they just sense her beautiful vibes and follow her home. Not all of them end up staying but for the most part they stay in the area to get fed when needed. Isabela insisted on getting another mabari to keep the Hawke dog company, Anders was a little frustrated at first bc having two mabari scares all the cats but soon they warmed up to the doggos and now they're all a big happy family. I think Merrill also brings home a little ferret for Isabela and it only likes the two of them, often hiding in their sleeves or on their shoulders. And Marian only cares about keeping her three wives happy but the mabari are her favourite pets.

[authorchariot]

> ENTRY: KINGS_AND_BEASTS

RATING: mature

CATEGORY: robin hood (2010)

EST. READING TIME: 20m 16s

INDEX TAGS: blood and gore, mythical beings and creatures, not beta read, pov third person

SUMMARY: for generations, the great forest near the thames has whispered of a beast—older than kings, hungrier than war. when search parties vanish and blood soaks the grass underfoot, king john rides into the greenwood to kill the creature himself. but what he finds beneath the ancient canopy is not a mindless monster but a being of power, beauty and terrible grace

ACCESS MATERIAL ON AO3 OR BELOW

NOTES: i don't really know what pairing this would classify as? maybe an oc? but it's not really an oc because there's no background or character development for the big doggo/werewolf/forest guardian thing? also, if you've seen beowulf, you might be able to draw some comparisons between beowulf and john and grendel's mother and the big doggo. both beowulf and john strike agreements with powerful supernatural beings in return for protection and both bone said supernatural being. i don't know. in the middle of planning it, i just thought it was cool comparison. anyway i hope you enjoy this weird, little thing i wrote. also also, did i run out of steam while writing this? of course, i did. i might come back and finish it at some point but, for now, i'm leaving it as it is.

The forest stands like a cathedral of green and shadow, vast and solemn, her canopy woven thick with age. She is the heart of the land near the Thames estuary, her roots entangled with the bones of generations; sheltering, feeding and healing those who dwell within her reach. The people come to her for timber, for mushrooms and mosses, for game and sweet herbs; and the forest, in her way, provides. But she is no tame thing. No mere orchard or pasture, no neat and placid grove.

For as long as men remember, and longer still if the whispers of crones be believed, she has been haunted. Not by spirit nor shade but by something else; some mighty beast, a creature of tooth and claw, of such size and malice. They say it was already ancient when the Romans left Britain. They say it has the cunning of a man and the appetite of a wolf and that its breath reeks of blood and old graves.

Most say nothing at all, fearful eyes cast to the ground.

In time, the tales have grown soft and round with retelling. Children dare one another to touch the tree line and flee. Farmers whisper that their neighbour's boy, who vanished one spring, must have taken a ferry east for work or choked on unripe berries. Life must continue and, if men do not return, then better a tale of folly than the quiet truth that the forest takes those who dare venture into its shadows.

But now, in these bitter years under King John, the legend reaches the wrong ears.

The king — restless, suspicious, ever hungry for power and praise — hears of the beast not as a myth but as a challenge. He, who has no true war to fight and no brother to betray, seizes upon the tale like a dog with a bone. If there be a beast, he shall slay it. If there be none, then the slaying of panic will do just as well.

He sends his first hunters, gruff men with bows and grim humour, and they return scoffing, drunk on the ease of their search. "A fox's shadow," they say. "Or a stag mistaken in the dark." The second party returns bruised and sullen, disheartened. The third limps home wide-eyed and bloodied, with one less man than they set out.

Then no one returns.

One by one, the parties vanish; no songs, no horns, no cries. Only the hush of green leaves in the cool breeze and, now and then, a scream in the dead hours of night.

Until this morn.

The candlelight flickers as the door to the King's chamber creaks open and a servant enters, white as chalk. The king stirs beneath thick covers, the stink of wine on his breath, one eye opening like a snake's.

"Sire." The servant says, his voice hoarse with dread. "They have been found."

"Who?" John yawns, rolling onto one elbow, dark curls falling in front of his eyes. It is barely dawn and the sky is still heavy with stars.

"The last party. South of the Wytham trees. Just shy of the tree-line. We... We dare not fetch what's left, my king."

A silence settles in the room like damp.

The king sits upright now, face stony, fingers clenched tight upon the sheets. For all his temper and vanity, there is steel beneath the silks. He was not born a coward, though he has grown into one by degrees. But now his pride stirs. Not out of duty, nor love of his people — he has little of either — but because the forest dares to mock him. Because whatever lies beneath that green canopy thinks itself beyond his reach.

"So be it." He says, rising. "Ready my armour."

"Sire?" The servant blinks, incredulous. John swings his legs from the bed, bare feet kissing the cold stone.

"I shall lead the next charge myself. I would see this beast. I would hear it die by my hand."

"My king, forgive me, but—"

"I said ready my armour." The king snaps. "And send word to the townsfolk. If any man, any hunter, would prove his loyalty to king and country, let him meet me by the forest's edge at dawn. We ride for the greenwood."

And so it begins.

Beneath the bruised, near-dawn sky, as the sun struggles to rise beyond a horizon choked with mist, the forest waits; silent, ancient, vast.

She has tasted blood before and she will taste it again.

The fur cloak feels heavy upon John's shoulders as he makes his way to the very edge of the forest. She looms, dense and shrouded in foreboding. It is a grizzly sight, as his servant had informed him. Yet nothing could prepare him for the scene itself; a cacophony of such gore that he must look away in fear of losing his nerve and, indeed, last night's supper.

Bent swords and pierced armour are cast haphazardly upon the earth. Bones are scattered like pebbles in the tall grass. Torn, bloodied limbs are hung, like ripe fruit, from the boughs of nearby oaks. Crimson stains the leaves of small shrubs that straddle the border of the forest and the neighbouring town. Whomever — or whatever — did this intended it as a message. This was no mere slaughter; this was a warning.

Disgust wars with fear and anger within the king. Such blatant disregard for his rule. Beast or no, such disrespect would not be tolerated in his land.

Slowly, men begin to gather at the site, all averting their gaze from the sight of the massacre. They arrive on horseback, with what little they have; hoes and kitchen knives. They are a measly bunch but the king has since lost all of his royal hunters and must rely on the bravery of those who show their faces. He must rally them.

On his steed, he turns to the small group gathered before the tree line.

"The beast has claimed more victims." He announces. "My hunters, fathers and sons of your people, have been found...brutally killed." The men look to one another, wide-eyed, some shudder with fear. "You have shown your bravery by coming to my aid. Now, we must track and kill this monster or else face my displeasure." He pauses, steeling his nerves. "Let us ride out then." He turns his steed and starts for the forest. Upon crossing the border of shadow, he finds himself alone, turning back to see his party still standing shy of the tree line. His patience wears thin as he observes their reluctance. "By the saints, are you children or men? Follow me or I shall have you flogged for cowardice on our return!"

The party rides through the shadowy woodland and John pulls his cloak tighter around his shoulders. The thick canopy of leaves blots out the morning sunlight, bathing the area in dim green and brown hues. Every snap of a branch or whisper through the trees makes his hair stand on end and his fingers twitch on the hilt of his sword. The men whisper behind him; stories of some great wolf, black as night, with red, glowing eyes and claws like knives, that stalks these grounds. Such a thing could never exist. Could it?

Hours pass and the light grows ever dim. The forest; she is dense and labyrinthine, brimming with untouched bounty. Raspberry bushes thrive, heavy with fruit. Broad oaks, perfect for timber, tower high above them. Streams of crystal, clear water burble beside fox-holes, beneath branches laden with nests. She is breathing and alive with the creatures that live here though this is no serene painting to hang in the winding halls of his castle. This place... Men have been torn asunder. Women have been cut down. Children have disappeared without a trace. This place, this wood, she is a harbinger of death.

As dusk begins to fall, the party happens upon a clearing. But this is no place to rest and regroup. This is a gravesite. Corpses lay across the earth; stomachs torn open, organs strewn across the grass, to be feasted upon by rats, foxes and crows. Whatever beast roams these grounds does not discriminate. Some of the men turn their heads and some search the site for lost loved ones, although the features of most bodies have long since rotted or been chewed away. John swallows thickly, his heart pounding against his ribs.

Suddenly, a scream. A man has been taken from his horse without a trace, his steed darting through the trees in search of escape. The remaining party freezes, eyes wide with terror.

"Where did he go?" One whispers.

"I didn't see anything." Another whispers through shaky breaths.

A low growl echoes through the trees as the breeze grows stronger, biting at the king's cheeks; a warning.

John's breath catches in his throat as the sound echoes through the forest, seemingly coming from all directions at once. He grips the reins of his steed and turns from the grim scene in the clearing.

"Stay together." He hisses. "And, for God's sake, keep your wits about you." He starts in another direction and the part follows behind him, their pace faster than before. Most men are pale, shaking. This is a cursed place; the tall oaks fed on the blood of trespassers, its animal inhabitants nourished by the gizzards of those who would dare venture onto these hallowed grounds.

Another man is picked off, the crunching of bones weaving through the branches as an arm falls to the earth, still twitching. Then a voice, low and gravelly, as if coming from the deepest pits, from the recesses of badger setts and the burrows of wild hare.

"Leave this place. Or suffer the consequence."

A cold sweat breaks out across the king's brow. This beast is not just dangerous; it is intelligent and cunning. He turns to his party, head swivelling on his neck as he searches for the direction from whence they came.

"Fall back!"

The men turn on their steeds, horses floundering before galloping in any direction. The forest has swallowed them and now she will only release them if they flee fast enough.

The group separates, leaving the king to fend for himself. He grits his teeth and sets his jaw, picking a direction and bolting through the trees. There is something at his back, hot breath on the back of his neck, claws inching for his back. His hands are trembling as they hold the reins, fingers curled tight around the leather. He spurs his steed forward but it is too late; the beast is upon him.

A huge, black shadow appears suddenly in his path. His horse rears up, tossing him from his saddle before fleeing. He hits the ground hard, the wind knocked out of him, his sheathed sword landing just out of reach. The shadow looms over him, as tall as a horse, cloaked in pitch-black fur. A great wolf with eyes like glowing, red-hot coals and claws like scythes. He tries to move but finds himself paralysed with fear.

The creature pads closer, blood dripping from its maw. Huge paws plant either side of him as hot breath fogs in the cool, dusky air. The coppery tang of blood fills his nostrils along with something else, something wild and untamed. He squeezes his eyes shut and makes his peace, praying to God for a quick and merciful death.

The beast hums, almost thoughtful.

"Is this a royal I see? A king?" It growls and John stiffens, eyes flying open in shock. Inwardly, he bristles at the implication that this creature knows his status, or that of his crown, that it recognises him as royalty, even in this moment of utter vulnerability. "I smell blue blood in your veins, blue like mould. Like rot and sin." The beast opens its jaw and clamps its teeth around his helmet, pulling it free before tossing it onto the grass. "Your subjects pillage this land of its wild crop and prey upon its creatures. Your soldiers hunt my head. None have asked permission to enter this sacred domain. What say you in your defence, outsider?"

The king's mind races as he attempts to formulate a response. He knows the accusations are true; his men have taken what they wanted from these woods and the creatures within were often hunted without mercy. Yet pride and royal entitlement surge within him.

"I am king." He insists but it seems that was the wrong answer as the beast above him snarls.

"Here, you are nothing but a blue-blooded cur." It bows its head only to sink its fangs into his armour as if it were warm butter. It is torn from his body and cast aside. The humiliation stings more than the physical shock. Yet, despite the fear gripping his heart, a spark of defiance ignites within the young king.

"You dare speak thusly to your king?" He demands though his body quivers in fear.

"You are no king of mine." The beast replies, tearing away chainmail with its teeth until John is left in nothing but his robes, damp and clammy with cold sweat, clinging to him like a second skin. "I have survived generations of your so-called monarchy."

Beneath the silvery moonlight, the king lies vulnerable before the ancient creature. Shaking hands instinctively move to cover his chest, fingers trembling against the fine fabric. The beast's words echo in his mind; generations of his ancestors failed to conquer this land or its fearsome guardian. "You hold no power here." For the first time in his life, John feels truly insignificant; a mere mortal before this huge, looming force of nature, the voice of the forest itself. "Still, you may be of use to me."

"And...what use would I be to you?" He asks.

"You hold power in your kingdom. You can decree that your subjects not enter this protected realm. They are nothing but a blight on the face of this haven, leaving nothing but tree stumps and arrowheads in their wake." The beast replies and the king swallows in a dry throat. He could issue a royal decree prohibiting his subjects from entering this forbidden land. It would mean preserving this untouched wilderness and the creatures living within it. Still, pride bubbles within him like an unholy spring of acid.

"And what do I receive in return?" He dares to ask.

"I will spare your life." The creature tells him simply. An incredulous, bitter laugh escapes him, echoing in the darkness.

"Spare my life? Sm I meant to be thankful for that? You forget, monster, I am worth more than my mere life. I am the bloody king!"

A thunderous bark interrupts him, shaking him to his core. It makes the very trees tremble and birds flee from their perches.

"Here, you are worth nothing!" The creature opens its huge mouth again, digging its teeth into the fine fabric of his robes and tearing them from his body. A mere man at the feet of a great, black hellhound; he is left bare in the moonlight, dark curls stuck to his brow, pulse fluttering in his soft, vulnerable throat. His hands involuntarily cover his nakedness though the act feels futile against such raw power.

"You— You dare strip me of my dignity—"

"If you do not agree to my terms, your lost dignity will be the least of your troubles." The great beast tells him as he meets its eyes. He sees no mercy there, only primal hunger and ancient anger.

"And...what happens if I refuse?" His voice is softer now, more timid, fearful.

"I urge you not to ask questions to which you already know the answer."

His pride wars with survival instinct, the cold air biting his exposed skin bringing him harshly back to reality. For once in his life, there is no throne to shield him, no guards to protect him, no crown to cower behind.

"You would kill me." It is not a question.

"To protect this land and its inhabitants, I must." And the king nods slowly, understanding the creature's logic. It is not acting out of malice but duty to its territory.

"Then I have no choice." His voice is a whisper, barely audible over the sound of wind rushing through the branches of the ancient oaks. "I will decree that no man shall enter your forest. It will be protected by royal law."

The beast seems satisfied by that response and retreats far enough for John to stand. He rises to his feet, his naked form trembling slightly in the cool night air. He feels utterly humiliated, stripped of every royal privilege, yet strangely alive. The creature's presence has awakened something within him. "I... I must return to my castle."

"We have more to discuss." The creature states.

"More?" He laughs, though no humour is heard in his tone, only bitterness. "You nearly kill me, strip me bare then demand more discussion? What kind of monster are you?" Yet, despite his words, there is no real anger. He has seen true monsters in his court; this beast is honest, at least. He schools his expression. "What else?" The great, black wolf settles on its side and John's eyes dart to his sword before back to the creature before him.

"We may strike a further deal." It rumbles, licking its chops clean of blood.

"What kind of deal?" He asks cautiously, rubbing his bare arms for warmth.

"Your subjects require food from this land, correct? Timber and healing herbs."

"Indeed, they do. This forest provides much of what sustains my kingdom." He pauses and meets the creature's eyes. They have cooled to a dim amber rather than the fiery red when they first met. "You would allow us to take what we need?"

"Though none of your people should step foot on this sanctified earth, we could come to an arrangement." It suggests.

"An arrangement?" He repeats, pacing, mind racing. "You would provide what my people need without them ever setting foot in this woodland? In exchange for what? What do you ask in return?" He stops, turning to the beast, eyes alight with suspicion and intrigue. The creature turns its head and huffs through its nose.

"As a guardian of this place, I am bound by honour to maintain its safety." It states before letting out a great sigh. "Yet...I grow lonely." John's heart skips a beat at the great, black wolf's admission. It strikes him how similar they are; both rulers bound by duty yet yearning for connection beyond their solitary stations. "You see, once a year, I go into rut. My mind is clouded and I rage in frustration. Yet, as I am the last of my kind, I cannot sate these needs." Understanding dawns on the young king like a shower of winter rain. The beast's loneliness is not only emotional but physical as well.

"So...you need someone. During that time." He tries carefully, almost gently. He runs a hand through his unruly, dark curls, suddenly very aware of his naked form. "And you are offering me...that role?" It nods slowly. John feels a strange flutter in his chest; apprehension and something else he cannot name. "And what of the rest of the year?"

"I would ensure your people see the bounty of this land without needing to lift a finger."

"No hunting nor gathering..." He murmurs thoughtfully. "Just provided with everything they need." He realises this creature is not only offering a solution to his kingdom's needs but a peaceful coexistence bordering on utopia. He could be the greatest, most celebrated king of all time... He looks back toward the creature, studying its powerful body, shrouded in ink-black fur.

"All I require in return is your presence for a few nights during the spring months." He takes a breath, cold air stinging in his throat as the weight of his decision presses down upon him. He understands the gravity of what is being asked and what is being offered.

"And, if I agree, will my people be safe from harm? Will they be able to live freely and without fear?" He asks cautiously.

"So long as they do not intrude upon this sacred ground, they shall be safe and provided for." The beast assures him.

"And these nights... Will they be gentle? Or will you take ma like an animal?"

"I would strive to make them enjoyable for you." It replies.

"Enjoyable." He echoes softly. "So not simply brute force. You would...care for my pleasure as well?"

"Indeed."

"God help me..." The king mutters to himself, his mind already made up. He reaches out hesitantly. "I agree to your terms. My kingdom will have your protection and bounty and, in return... I will give you a few nights of my body each spring." The great beast raises its head, allowing the king's palm to graze its fur, silky-soft and black as pitch as it passes through his fingers.

"A wise decision." It says and John lets out a shaky exhale.

"When do these nights begin precisely?" He asks.

"Perhaps tonight? If you are willing." It replies, rising to its feet before lowering slightly. "Come. I should take you back to my den. You shall be more comfortable there." The king hesitates for a moment then climbs onto the black wolf's broad back. He wraps his arms around its neck as it rises fully and begins to dart swiftly through the trees towards its den.

It is completely dark when the two arrive at the beast's den. It is built into the side of a huge, ancient oak tree beside a bubbling spring, decorated with soft moss, beeswax candles and the occasional fur. The scent of damp earth and wildflowers permeates the air. It is strangely home-like for a creature so feared.

"Here." The beast says and John dismounts carefully, his legs feeling weak from the ride and the anticipation building inside him. He turns on his heel to face the great, black wolf, his bare frame illuminated in the silvery moonlight, standing alone in this oddly intimate space.

"Now what?" He asks tentatively and a quiet chuckle rumbles through the creature.

"Now? I must transform. After all, I would be too large for you as I am."

"Transform?" The king repeats.

"Yes. Please, make yourself comfortable. I shall return shortly." And John nods slowly, watching as the beast turns and disappears into a nearby thicket. Curious, he moves deeper into the den, exploring the soft furnishings and enjoying the gentle glow of the candles. He settles into a pile of soft furs, the sound of flowing water soothing his nerves.

Suddenly, low growls and groans of pain rise from the thicket. The forest echoes with the snapping and shifting of bones, the scent of blood in the air. John freezes, listening intently. The sounds grow louder, more intense, and he feels the very ground beneath him tremble. There is a sharp crack and a gasp, followed by a final pained grunt.

A man rises from behind the thicket; tall, muscular, naked, soaked in blood and patches of deep-black fur. He strides toward the spring and kneels beside it, washing away the evidence of his transformation. Scars line his broad shoulders, shimmering in the moonlight. The king watches, transfixed.

Once clean, the man turns to face him. The beast — now, man — is still larger than him but not as drastically so. "I assume this form is more palatable?"

"God, yes." The king breathes, eyes widening as he takes in the man's body; tall, stocky, broad-shouldered. The man joins him on the furs.

"Is this comfortable?" He asks. John nods and reclines, running his fingers over the soft furs and moss beneath him. He has never felt anything so comfortable in his life. The palace beds are packed with straw, the pillows stuffed with feathers, but this feels like heaven. Or perhaps he is simply relishing the company of his newfound companion.

"You sleep here?" He asks curiously.

"Indeed. The furs are not harvested, you understand. They are provided to be by inhabitants of this land who pass, gifting their pelts to me, their guardian, after a long life." The man explains.

"And they trust you with their final gifts..." He reaches out, gently taking the man's hand in his own, finding it rough and calloused. "You must be very lonely here, with only the dead for company." The man moves closer, nuzzling under the king's jaw, breath hot on his skin.

"That is why I require your presence." Kisses rain down on John's neck and collarbone as his body flushes with warmth, despite the cool chill of the night air. "Have you laid with a man before?" And the king shakes his head. "Then I shall be gentle with you."

taglist: @ingoldthewizard @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @starwarskawaii

[sleepdeprivedsimp234]

Since it’s February and the dreaded Valentine’s Day is coming up (no valentines lol) do you have any Valentine’s Day headcannons? Like who would be a pair or what a state would give as a valentines or what they would do together? :)

>:3

NY: would as you to go do parkour with him or go skateboarding or just simply take a walk in Central Park with hot cocoa

Louisiana: he’s taking you to his favorite bar and then taking you to his favorite place in the swamp. y’all probably carve your initials into a tree too (dw about why he has a knife on him just shhhhhhh….)

Texas: Ofc he’s gonna take you horseback riding to his favorite flower field (and his doggos tag along too) so that y’all can watch the beautiful sunset together

Gov: he’s dragging you to the Smithsonian National Museum and then taking you to get drinks and food after (don’t you dare think of even ATTEMPTING to pay)

Mass: he’s going to aggressively throw a heart shaped box of assorted chocolates along with several other gifts through your window at 3am with a note saying "do ya wanna go get dunks in the mornin’….?"

New Jersey: you bet your sweet ass that he’s taking you to go meet the Jersey Devil and you bet your sweet ass that J.D. is gonna give you the shovel talk <3

[cry4mina]

Take Me Back To Eden - Granite (Part 2)

(Nayeon x fem!reader)

Take Me Back To Eden - Choke Hold - Part 1

Word Count: 5k Angst/more angst/attempted fluff met with....angst Summary: Reader is struggling with the emotions that come with uncovering some uncomfortable truths about their relationship with Nayeon.

Tw: Mentions of drinking, reader has unhealthy coping mechanisms, reader is a little stuck in their head (very stuck in their head), spiraling, nausea, cursing, flash backs, food, cheating, panic attacks, crying, Dahmo is present again, a quick mention of Chaeyoung, doggos (the 10th member of twice and his brother make an appearance) If I missed anything pls let me know!

A/N: Thank you for all the support on Part 1 of this fic! If you haven't read that yet, it is linked above for context. There will be a Part 3 in the works, shortly! Thanks to @saiiidahyunee for always listening to me ramble as I organize my thoughts and coming through with the suggestions<3 Reminder: My asks/requests and DMs are always open!

-

You wake up to the smell of bacon. You reach to your right, but your hand lands on cool slick wood instead of your soft sheets. You get immediately upset that Nayeon isn't next to you.

When you open your eyes you’re met with an immediate headache and the realization that you aren’t in your own bed. Your vision is blurred much like the last 12 hours. Colors and shapes that aren’t distinct but there’s a familiarity in the patterns seen by your hungover eyes.

You usually wake to the sweet sound of her humming in the kitchen to herself. Your chest hollows remembering the previous morning.

Her showering you with affection from the minute you opened your eyes, her switching coffees with you so you could have the perfect cup, the giggles and glances while bathing together…your heart was dissociating down the path of you and Nayeon.

You shake those thoughts out of your brain, causing the dull ache behind your eyes to sharpen into a seering burn between your temples.

You blink rapidly to clear the haze and let out a groan at how bright the sun is beaming through the large windows in front of you. You recognize the living room from the neutral tones of the furniture, the Twice posters framed in black hung perfectly, the fireplace roaring to beat out the chilly air, and the hints of light pink everywhere.

You don’t even need to see the dog toys scattered throughout the room- , you’re in Momo’s living room.

The uncomfortable couch you had fallen asleep on was good for sitting and not for sleeping. You shift trying to sink a little deeper between the blanket someone placed on you and the firm cushion below you but the scream of your lower back was enough to keep you placed right where you were.

The sizzle of the bacon you just smelled and the clicking of nails on hardwood floors are now present throughout the house. You hear Boo barking for a piece of bacon followed by a loud “Shh!” Followed by a hushed ”Y/n is still sleeping…we’ve got to let her rest- Boo! You better share with Dobby!” You give a soft smile and yell “Don’t worry, I’m awake!”

You reach for your phone on the coffee table next to you and attempt to open your phone but your screen refuses to flicker on. “Great” You clammer to yourself tossing back on the table as you hear Momo greeting Dahyun in the kitchen.

“Good Morning, my love” the sound of a quick peck and a sigh; you feel the knot in your chest and the lump in your throat grow. You hear the way love is laced within the words Momo speaks when addressing Dahyun. It makes your skin burn with dread.

A deep ache that could only be filled by who you thought Nayeon was. Who she might have never been. The hushed conversation over the sounds of breakfast being made continues as you spiral.

Endless thoughts running through your brain as you try to file them away in their proper place. An attempt to process the feeling of betrayal. You can’t believe you’re even thinking about her doing such a thing.

“Nayeon? Cheating? She couldn’t…could she?” The woman who would threaten the Sun if it burnt you, the same woman who was so gentle with you, always making sure you felt safe and loved. You felt like acid was eating away at your frontal lobe while the knife twists against the memories flooding back to you as your brain tries to talk you out of accepting what you’ve seen in her wallet. Dehydrated, Hungover, Heart broken. A triple threat.

While you try to derail the train of thought that was plaguing your mind, you recognize the sound of nails and the shifting of floor boards as someone walks over to you through the hallway. The dogs follow and run ahead to jump on the couch and greet you. You laugh as they try to lick your face giving them equal attention without rising from your position.

“Good Morning, Y/n-nie,'' You avert your eyes slightly from the dogs to see Dahyun smiling down at you on the couch with a bottle of water raised up by her face. She gave a little shimmy and posed with the bottle to try to get you to smile.

“Good Morning, Dahyun” The dogs jump down when they hear the sound of Momo placing food in their bowl, scurrying off to their respective spots for breakfast.

You try to sit up as Dahyun holds her hand out with some medication waiting for you to pop them in your mouth before handing you the bottle.

“You are a saint,” you say while opening the water bottle. You chug half the bottle before coming up for air. Gasping at how great the cool liquid feels going down your throat.

She sits down next to you waiting for you to say anything. She doesn’t want to push you into more discomfort than you are already experiencing.

Your eyes scan the coffee table to see an empty tequila bottle, your dead phone, and 3 empty glasses. You sigh. You weren’t much of a drinker to begin with but you needed something to numb you.

The problem with that, is that now you weren’t numb. Your arms felt heavy at the weight of the emotions you are carrying. You feel as though the couch you are sitting on is swallowing you as you sink slowly into the void of absolute devastation.

Your jaw tenses as your eyes start to water. Remembering the way her voice shook when she told you it wasn’t what you thought it was. It echoed in your head, reverberating against your hangover and swollen eyes.

“Has she ever lied to you before? How long has it been going on? Did...did she really let someone else touch her?” You felt filthy and in need of a shower.

Staring boldly into the fire as you navigate your deep dejection, you watch memory after memory rush into your mind’s eye. Earlier attempts to fend these off failed.

A gray washed melancholy glazed over your facial expressions contouring your usually cheery demeanor into a desolate haze.

Dahyun watched all your emotions play out on your face.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she quietly inquired, shaking you out of the hopeless spiral.

“I don’t even know what to say. I have so many questions but Nayeon”

You flinch at the name as if someone just poked your tender heart with a sharp sewing needle… “ and this “J” person, only have the answers.”

Another wave of gray as you realize what you’ve just said. Hearing it in your own voice allowed the pieces to settle one by one. Pulling heart strings from the knot that was created over a flimsy piece of paper.

A single tear falls from your eye as Momo saunters in with 3 plates of food, handing you and Dahyun one before sitting down on the other couch, opposite you and her girlfriend.

“Thank you.” You can hear the cool slated tone of your voice as you try to hide the emotional turmoil you were drowning in.

“Thank you for letting me stay here and for being there for me. I’m really happy to have friends like you.”

They both smile empathetically with their mouths full as you take a bite of the salty strip of bacon.

With breakfast finished, Dahyun and Momo started to pack. Twice would be heading to Japan that afternoon for their schedules and wouldn’t be back until the middle of the following week.

You sit at the foot of their bed and help them decide which outfits to bring. Catching and folding the clothes that were thrown at you and tucking them neatly into the suitcases.

You lightly sigh, trying to not bring attention to yourself as you reminisce in silence about the last vacation you took with Nayeon. Giving almost the same routine you were experiencing with Momo in the moment.

The chaos that was Nayeon packing was one of the most unorganized things you’ve ever experienced. The first time you watched her try to get everything together for a trip you had to stop her 5 minutes in as she was sitting on a suitcase of shoes trying to close it enough to get the zipper to budge.

She hated packing and would just throw the jumbled mess of clothes into a case and call it good.

When you started living together, all of that changed. You would sit down on your bed and watch her showcase outfit after outfit to decide what to wear. You loved being able to help her decide between the colors and fabrics because it meant spending time with her.

She seemed to hate packing less too. You wonder how she’s fending trying to do it by herself as you redirect your attention to Momo.

“Y/n, I know you know you’re more than welcome to stay here while we are gone,” Momo says, pulling a black sweater vest with a turtleneck off the hanger and tossing it to you.

“I know you’ll probably go back to the apartment but I want you to know you don’t have to stay there if you don’t want to. Our guest bedroom is always open to you…or you can sleep on the couch again, if you prefer.”

You all share a laugh while you neatly fold the garment and place it on top of the already organized stack in the massive suitcase

“I think I'll pass on the couch, but I might take you up on the offer for the guest bedroom depending on how everything feels at the apartment.”

Momo nods her head, “You know where the spare key is, if you need it.”

—

Rain slicked streets and the sounds of cars passing is what fills your drive home. You’re fixating on the sound of rain tapping the windshield and the slosh of the tires in the puddles splayed out over the roads.

You are anxious heading back to the apartment. Muscles tensing throughout your body as you get closer and closer to your shared home with Nayeon.

You are hoping she’s already left for the airport so you don’t have to have the uncomfortable conversation just yet. You’d rather wait until you’ve fully processed what’s happened and gather your thoughts.

You do want to hear what she has to say but you need to be calm in order to react in a way that is best for you and your needs, just in case you have to only rely on yourself again.

You stop at a red light, patiently waiting for the bright green to flash again as if it carries you home. The drive isn’t a long one but knowing what’s waiting is what’s creating the time between houses. You look down at your hands and fidget with the dry skin, something Nayeon would light swat at your digits for doing.

If she saw you anxiously tapping your leg, touching your hair, or scratching at the sides of your fingers she would scoot closer to you, placing her hand on your thigh. Tracing small hearts, your initials and her initials, among other patterns, to get you to fixate on something else.

Self soothing now feels like a chore, you want to allow your spiral to run its course, sucking you into the disheveled thoughts occupying your headspace and filling your lungs with sharp cries.

The bright green of the traffic light reminds you you’re driving as you push the clutch in with your left foot, lifting your right off the break and accelerating with the gas. Clutch in again, shift to second, the balancing act of a stick shift car was almost too much today.

You had too many thoughts and wished you didn’t have to pay attention so much. Though it was probably for the better as safety is allegedly important.

You roll your eyes as traffic stops you from proceeding. You just want to go to a familiar place and sit still with yourself and these cars are blocking up the roads.

You can see the entrance of the front office to the building being crowded by people with cameras. The car in front of you being halted by a security guard so the people congesting the roads don’t get hit.

You quickly realize what’s happening and start staring at the grooves of the woven leather on your steering wheel. Fiddling with them to try to distract yourself from all the commotion outside of your vehicle. You hear the camera’s clicking and can see the flashes in your peripherals.

You glance up momentarily to get a view of Nayeon from your car window. The tints aren’t dark enough to shield you from her but the camera flashes might blind her enough to not see you.

She’s wearing a loose wrinkly sweater that belonged to you, sweatpants, white sneakers and a pair of dark black sunglasses. Her makeup doesn’t appear to be done and her hair is tucked into a messy bun. Your heart melts at the sight of her.

You feel a tear trickling down your cheek. You want nothing more than to embrace her. To feel her on your skin again, to feel the safety of your partner.

You remember the note, the singular letter repeating in your head, remember what brought you to this emotional state in the first place. You don’t allow the visual of her to comfort you, not for this.

She’s waving to the cameras and doing hand hearts while walking towards the black SUV that’s there to take her to the airport when she sees your car. You watch the revelation click in her head and she immediately stops walking and looks through the crowd to see you.

Mouth ajar and sadness creeping into her skin. You make eye contact for what feels like hours before she composes herself, cameras still blindingly flashing as she gets into the SUV.

You hear the door close and see the window in the back seat roll down, opposite of the crowd. The bigger car pulls out of the entrance to the complex and right up next to you.

You feel your heart start to beat at an alarming pace as she sticks her head out of the window after removing her sunglasses. Her eyes are red and swollen with bags under them. She definitely didn’t sleep.

You realize that she’s motioning for you to roll your window down. You comply quickly, knowing that it’ll be brief.

Barely louder than a whisper “Hey…Is your phone dead?”

You nod your head slightly, having trouble making eye contact with her. A beat of silence drums between the two of you as you awkwardly shift in your seat. The stiffness of your lower back proceeding to yell at you again from a combination of sleeping on the couch and the stress you were under.

She chooses to break the silence with exactly what you expected. “Can we talk when I get back?”. You can hear the glint of hope in her voice.

You hadn’t blocked her, you rolled your window down, and you haven’t pulled off yet (not that you could with traffic) so you’re still present in some sense.

You nod your head again, agreeing to the hard conversation. She smiles softly at you, cheeks rising up as she goes to speak again when you hear the driver husk “Miss Im, I’m sorry to interrupt but you do have a plane to catch.”

She nods her head at the driver then brings her attention back to you.

“I left you something on the counter and there’s dinner in the fridge for you…I didn’t know if you’d be home and wanted to make sure you remembered to eat... I love you, y/n” as the SUV slowly starts to drive, picking up its pace quickly as it continues down the street.

Once the crowd dissipates and the smoke clears, you pull into your designated parking spot with haste. Quickly pulling the E brake and putting the car in neutral so you can take in what just happened. Not many words were shared, but you felt every single one of them echoing in your mind.

You grab your keys as you replay the “I left you something on the counter and there’s dinner in the fridge for you. I love you, y/n” in your head over and over again as you make your way up the elevator.

Walking up to the door, you hesitate to open it. The thick dark wood is intimidating as it glares down at you belittling your right to walk through it. Shiny golden numbers reflect the bright lights back at you as you reach for your keys hanging from your hip.

Your skin prickles as you register that she won’t be on the other side of that waiting to hug you after a long day. The usual routine that happens when arriving home isn’t the same.

You brace yourself, slide the key into the lock and turn. Hearing the mechanism click as the cog turning inside. You turn the knob in tandem to reveal your kitchen.

Closing the door and locking it behind you, you absorb the atmosphere around you. The lighting is dark due to the overcast sky. The silence is loud as the room breathes around you. Your eyes pan over the room to find a bouquet of roses in a crystal vase on the counter.

You bought that vase to fill with flowers for her, now she was returning the favor. You take in the way the crystal shimmers with little to no light and the refractions of red coming off the sparkling corners that were etched into the filigree carved into its surface.

Flicking the lights on to reveal the spotless granite countertops, you realize that someone might have been stress cleaning. You remove your jacket and hang it on the rack on the back of the door hesitant to take your shoes off.

Your eyes hit the ground when you realize that the once sanctuary doesn’t feel nearly as safe. You push through the feeling, and put your shoes in their normal spot next to the door.

You glide through the kitchen with an attempted ease as you search for the comfort you once had, plugging your phone into the charger on the counter.

The soft smell of roses permitting the room. You look at them and notice an envelope with your initials and a heart scrawled on it in bright red ink next to the vase.

Picking up the envelope, you stare at it tracing the edges of the thick paper with your fingers. Would she write the answers to your questions here? Or would she wait until you asked? There’s only one way to find out, and you were sure you were too sober to pull the trigger.

Going into the cabinet, you pull out a wine glass and immediately turn for the fridge. Searching the shelves for the bottle that was already open. You pull the container of food out that Nayeon made for you, immediately getting nauseous at the idea of eating and you place it back on the shelf.

You realize that the bottle is missing. She had done exactly what you did the night before. Drank the pain away. You bite the inside of your cheek knowing you and her both were going through discomfort. You grab the unopened bottle of white win out of the door, closing it firmly behind you.

You pour yourself a glass and chug it. You begin to pour another while making a face as you swallow the bittersweet liquid. You walk over to the trash can to throw the foil from uncorking it out, still feeling guilty about not being able to comfort Nayeon. You toss the small frail metal into the can when something familiar catches your eye.

The tattered paper from her wallet lay on top of the empty bottle you were searching for moments ago. The letter ripped in half, one side of it facing you- the signature present in black ink.

Your anger grows when you see it. Remembering that she could have actually betrayed you and here you are being upset that you weren’t there to comfort her? Yeah, okay Y/n.

Your eyes flicker back to the envelope she left for you.

“Nope.” You say out loud. Your phone starts vibrating endlessly so you run over and turn it on silent knowing the amount of notifications you were about to receive.

You grab both the bottle and the glass of wine and head for the couch to get drunk and watch your favorite comfort movie.

—

The first night back, you decided to sleep on the couch and you stayed there for another 2 full days. Only moving to go to the bathroom and get some water. You just allowed your body to rest and recover.

The bed seemed tainted and would probably smell like her, you didn’t want your body to relax into the false sense of safety it had been used to.

You didn’t answer your phone or even look at the notifications. Pretending it did exist and basking in the solitude. By day three you realized people might start to worry about you if you didn’t reply to them. You usually reply pretty quickly so it would be off if you didn’t say something to them.

You filtered through your notifications, answering everyone but Nayeon. Momo had checked in with you and called you a few times leaving voicemails that got more threatening since you weren’t replying. You immediately called her back to let her know you were breathing.

“Thank god you’re okay. I was going to head to your house straight from the airport if I didn't hear from you before we got back!”

“That’s very sweet of you Momo-ssi. I’m doing alright just trying to take it day by day…or minute by minute, rather.”

“I understand. Have you talked to her yet?”

You hesitate to reply. Knowing that you’re avoiding communication with her in fear of what the truth could be. Momo notices this almost immediately and nods her head as if you can see her.

“I take that as a no, then?”

“Yeah…I just- I don’t know, I’m scared of what happens next.”

Momo sighed empathetically.

“Sometimes you just have to take the next step, no matter what it brings.”

You knew she was right so you tried to deflect.

“How is she?” your mouth utters before your brain could catch up.

“She seems off. You can tell she’s doing her best to try to keep it together. Less bubbly. Chaeyoung mentioned your name and she immediately went pale and changed the subject.”

You press your lips together. The back and forth of feeling guilty for not being there for Nayeon and feeling sorry for yourself was getting old and you were exhausted from the strain you've been putting on your nervous system.

“Momo, can I let you go? I guess I have to read these text messages.” you begrudgingly say.

“Yeah, good luck! Call me back if you need to talk about anything okay?” You say your goodbyes and hang up.

No longer ignoring the task at hand, you open your text messages to read the days worth of messages. At first they’re all panicky. A lot of begging for you to answer the phone, a lot them just simply saying your name.

They soon delve into “I miss you”, “I love you”, “Please come home” and “You mean everything to me” texts. A few of them were unintelligible, definitely sent after the wine she consumed.

You see some from the day she left for Japan, asking how the dinner was and if you read the note. A few more I love yous sent throughout the last few days.

You place your phone on the table and run your hands over your face, keeping your fingers over your mouth. You open your voicemails, put your phone on speaker and start to go through the ones from Nayeon. They’re all really hard to listen to. The first few especially.

“Y/n, please answer the phone. We can work through this. It’s not as bad as it seems, I swear. You are the only person I want to be with. Please call me back.” She sobs into the microphone.

Your heart cracks at the shakiness of her voice and the sadness dripping through your phones speaker.

Through the voicemails you can start to hear her words slur. The memory of how you were accepted by her members floods back into your brain again.

However, this time the joy is absent from the flashes of love. Only sorrow sits. The last voicemail she left you was from the morning of the day you came home. More of the same contents, but with sniffles instead of sobs.

You sit for a second to collect yourself. The envelope on the table, patiently waiting for you to rip open it’s seal and explore the contents.

You take a deep breath, picking it up. You slowly run your thumb between where the paper is stuck together, being sure not to damage anything inside. A pink slip of paper is neatly folded inside. You discard the envelope on the table and unfold the bright page and start reading.

“My Love,

I need you to know that you are so important to me. You are my safety. My guiding light. I’ve never felt as loved as I do when I’m with you. Please know that I am sorry for everything and I will explain when I get back. I hope you’re still home when I return.

With all the Love,

Nayeon”

Your heart sinks. What do you mean you’re sorry for everything? What is everything? More questions and no answers.

You pick up your phone and call Momo again to vent about the apology you just received because all of the context is missing. The phone rang once, twice, and the third ring was interrupted with a familiar voice.

“Hi Baby,” You freeze, unsure of where to go from here. You decide to use the emotions you’ve been hiding as courage and ask the questions you’ve been holding onto for the last week.

“How long?” You ask sternly. Silence fills the other side of the phone as you wait patiently for the answer.

“Do you really want to do this right now? Can’t we wait until I get home so we can talk in person?

“No, we are going to do this on my terms. How long?”

Nayeon sighed as you heard a door close through the phone as she separated herself from the rest of Twice.

“...it only happened once…a few years ago…it was a few weeks after you asked me on our first date.” You flinch when her voice cracks. Tears silently spill down your face.

Focusing heavily on the admission of betrayal being told to you. “It hasn’t happened since. I messed up and I realized that. Please know I wouldn’t ever ever do something like that again.”

Your heart is racing, you are feeling your cyclical emotions take control again. Anger, nausea, fear and betrayal dance around your chest as the words spill out of your girlfriend's mouth.

“Why was the note in your wallet?”

“I just switched wallets, it was in the black one I was using last week and I just didn’t throw it away.”

“Nayeon, Who is J?”

A long pause as you wait for her to say the name of the person who helped defile your relationship. She sighs heavily, you can hear her shaking.

“Can we please just talk in person tomorrow when I get back?” she pleads.

“If you’re not going to tell me, I’ll hang up. I don’t need anything else from you besides that information.” Your voice is icy as the shards fly out to hit Nayeon’s chest. This is agonizing for both of you and you aren’t going to wait around for her to decide it’s time. You were the one who got cheated on, not her. You would never do that to her so she is not going to be extended any grace.

“Y/n…” You stay silent waiting for an answer that she is refusing to give.

“I’ll see you around, Nayeon.” You say as you move the phone away from your ear to end the call. You faintly hear her protesting but you hang up without fully hearing what she was trying to say.

You slam your phone down on the coffee table when you feel the adrenaline release, chilling your veins down while your breathing starts to shallow and quicken. You switch your breathing into manual as you try to stop the panic attack before it gets worse.

Long deep breaths only get you so far. Your hands and lips start to tremble as your chest tightens. You feel like you need to stand up and run out of the building but are too light headed from the hyperventilating. You are sure you’d just fall over if you even try to stand.

You catch a glimpse of your phone lighting up from a text message. You life your phone and read who it’s from.

-Momo: I’m sorry, I didn’t see that she grabbed my phone when you called. Are you okay?”

-Momo: Nayeon just walked back into the room crying...

You start to type a response through trembling fingers when another message banner drops down, catching your attention. It’s Nayeon. You read the text to yourself, mouth gaping when you realize this is the information you had asked her for on the phone.

“Oh, You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Take Me Back to Eden - Aqua Regia - Part 3

[arcandoria]

if anything bad happens to dread doggo I'll kill everyone in the room and then myself