#'stop being ridiculous' and there's no sign of comfort or trying to problem-solve anything. it's just 'get over it you'll be fine.'

[yoonstudios]

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[watchmegetobsessed]

TO LOVE AND BE LOVED - Part One (Harry Styles)

a/n: oh my god i am sooo thankful for the love the masterlist got with just so little info about the story! it means so much to me and i really hope i won’t disappoint you with this story! i was planning to post the first part on tuesday but i got excited bc of all the feedback and reactions and decided to start earlier, so here it is, part one of TLABL, a story im kind of proud of and very happy to share! please drop by my ask box or leave your thoughts on the story, i would love to hear everything from you guys!

pairing: CEO!Dad!Harry X Reader

warning: mentions of death, cheating and divorce

word count: 11.2k

SERIES MASTERPOST masterlist

“I hope you realize this holds nothing against you, we all love and appreciate you and your work, but we had to face some unexpected problems this past year.”

You sit in front of Claire, your boss completely dumbfounded, not even comprehending what she is saying completely. You came to work this morning absolutely oblivious that today is going to be your last day of work at the daycare you’ve been working at for over two years now.

“I’m sorry, but last time you let us in on the budget you didn’t bring up any complication that might have indicated someone could lose their job, so what possible problem could have come up so abruptly?” you ask with a shocked and nervous chuckle. Part of you kind of hopes this is just some stupid joke she is playing on you, but Claire is not one to make games out of such serious things. Letting out a tired sigh she pushes her reading glasses up to the top of her head into her carefully curled hair.

“Look, I’m really trying not to make a big deal out of it, but we had to make some cuts on the budget. The kitchen and gymnasium renovation was completely unplanned and it kicked us in the butt. We are making some changes about the groups this year and it was made that it can be solved with one less person on the team. I’m sorry it had to be you, but the decision had to be made.”

“But why me?” you press. “There are two people who have been working for a shorter period of time here, didn’t I earn your trust during my time here?”

“It’s not about that, Y/N,” Claire shakes her head.

“Then what is this about?”

“If you are so keen on knowing, we’ve… received a few… complaints.” Your eyebrows shoot up to your hairline, this is the first time you’re hearing about it.

“Complaints?”

“Yes. Some parents are not quite the fan of the kind of mentality you are using while teaching the kids.”

“What are you talking about?” you ask, feeling all the blood rushing out of your face. This is starting to get way too nasty. Claire pinches the bridge of her nose before leaning onto her desk, clasping her hands together.

“I know that you are quite the free spirit and want to teach the kids about openness and acceptance, but not everyone is as rainbow as you are. Some kids brought the word home about what kind of books you’ve been reading and we’ve gotten a few concerns about you basically promoting the LGBTQ community for the kids.”

“I’m not promoting, I’m trying to teach them to accept everyone just the way they are, how can that upset anyone?!”

“Well, it does. The committee had to make a decision on who we should let go and many agreed that it might be the safest decision to make it be… you.”

You’re about to faint. You are sure you are about to fall off this chair and just black out. How can someone get mad about you reading stories about acceptance and treating everyone equally? What kind of monster can see it as a bad thing? And now you are losing your job over such a stupid thing that you don’t even feel responsible for.

Though you’d love to stay and try to convince Claire to not let you go, you know the decision has been made and if you’re being honest, you don’t feel comfortable anymore working at a place where parents tell you off for teaching important values for their kids. Sadly, but you sign all paperwork about your immediate parting and you leave Claire’s office to pack your stuff.

“Miss Y/N! Miss Y/N!” Izzy, one of the sweetest girls in your group basically launches herself at you, smashing against your legs as she hugs you happily. “Do you want to see what I just painted?” She blinks up at you with her gorgeous green eyes and your heart breaks that you won’t get to see her again.

“Oh, Sweetie. I have to—you know what? Sure. Show me your painting,” you smile at her warmly. You can’t say no to her, not when this is the last time you get to see her.

As you’re cleaning out your locker in the break room, Heather walks in and stops in her tracks, seeing you with your gloomy face as you pack everything into a cardboard box.

“What the hell are you doing?” she questions right away. The two of you have known each other for years now, you did the same master’s programme and somehow ended up working here together, carrying on the friendship you’ve formed through your school years.

“I was… fired,” you sigh, wincing at the words.

“What?! Why?”

“Apparently, we are having some budget problems with all the renovations that was made recently and unbeknownst to me, some parents have been complaining about my openness with kids so I was the lucky one to part ways with.”

“That’s fucking bullshit! The kids adore you, how can someone complain about something like that?”

“Don’t know, ask them if you ever find out who they are,” you mumble under your breath as you shut the now empty locker closed. “I’m sorry we can’t carpool anymore,” you pout at her.

“No fucks given about that, what are you gonna do now?” she asks, seemingly very bummed at the news that you won’t be working at the same place now.

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “I guess I’ll have to find something new if I don’t want to end up on the streets,” you mumble.

“Oh girl, I’m so sorry,” Heather sighs pulling you into a hug. “Why don’t we go out for drinks on Friday? Everything is on me!”

“Don’t act like I’m already broke, makes me feel like a loser.”

“Sorry,” she scowls. “Just want to brighten you up a little. Meet me at seven at that Mexican place, how does that sound?”

“Stuffing my face with nachos and tequila? Sounds like the best plan I could wish for.”

You waste no time arriving home after your worst day at work. You jump right into the job ads, looking for basically anything that might help you out of this impossible situation. Sending your resume to as many places as possible, you get a few callbacks the next few days, but you only make it to one interview on Friday and that doesn’t go well either. The man who calls in for an open position at a private kindergarten turns out to be a total snob and he doesn’t find your free spirit too fitting with the profile of his institution so you get rejected at the end of the interview.

You head out to meet Heather feeling like shit. You’ve been unemployed for four days, but it’s already breaking your spirits.

“You know what? Clair is a bitch for giving in to the complaints,” Heather slams her fourth shot glass on the table with a grimace. “She should have defended you!”

“I’m sure she just didn’t want to get into any disagreement. Some of the parents donate great amounts to the school and Claire would never risk losing that money,” you sigh rolling your eyes.

“Okay, but she is being very… not inclusive,” she narrows her eyes. “Firing someone for teaching the kids openness? Bullshit.”

“I’m just sad I don’t get to see the kids anymore. They really grew close to my heart.”

“The little fuckers can be so damn cute, almost make me want to have one.” Heather sighs, downing another shot before pulling the nachos closer to her. You laugh at her vulgar reaction, she has always had quite a dirty mouth but somehow she controls herself well around the kids. “How has the job hunting been?”

“Horrible,” you growl in frustration. There are not many that offer a good paycheck and the few that does are these posh places that expect you to treat the kids like they are made out of gold which is ridiculous. That’s not how you raise a kid!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sure something will come up soon. Why don’t you look into nanny jobs, have you thought about that?”

“What do you mean?” you furrow your eyebrows, popping some chips into your mouth.

“A lot of people prefer having nannies for their little children, some even want them to move in. My brother’s ex-girlfriend was a live-in nanny for about two years and she earned a shit ton of money, because she didn’t have to pay rent and a good chunk of the food, because the parents just treated her like part of the family and bought groceries for five people instead of four.”

“I’m not sure I’m cut out for that kind of stuff.”

“What, earning money?” Heather scoffs.

“No, living with a stranger.”

“Most of the time the nanny gets like a separated place so it wouldn’t be that bad, but you know what’s good for you. It was just an idea,” she shrugs.

Soon enough you drop any work talk not wanting to ruin the mood. You enjoy some time away from the stress of job hunting and you’re just trying to have fun with your best friend. You start talking about nostalgic memories from college and end up looking up people you graduated with on social media, checking out what they’ve been up to in the past years.

“Alright, I’m gonna go to the restroom quickly, watch out for my drink,” you announce pushing your drink closer to Heather as you head towards the restrooms.

There’s a bit of a line so you stand behind two girls chatting about some cute guy they just met and leaning against the wall you close your eyes for a moment, feeling the drinks hitting you in the head. You’re not used to drinking, haven’t really had the time to get drunk too much lately and it’s saddening to think that now that you’re unemployed, you could black out every day, you wouldn’t have anywhere to show up in the morning.

Getting deep in your thoughts you almost don’t even notice that your phone is buzzing in your pocket. When you finally realize you pull it out of your back pocket and look down at the unknown number with a scowl. You quickly leave your spot in the line and rush out to hear something as you answer the call.

“Hello?”

“Hi, I hope I’m not calling at an inconvenient time, I’m Harry Styles and I’m looking to talk to Y/N Y/L/N?” you hear a thick British accent on the other end of the line.

“This is her.”

“Great. Sorry for the late call, I’m Isabelle’s father.”

“Isabelle?” you ask in confusion, the names not really clicking in your head thanks to the shots you’ve been taking.

“Isabelle Styles? Izzy?”

“Oh! Yes! Sorry, yeah. Mr. Styles, what can I help you with?” you ask, not sure why Izzy’s dad would be calling you.

“Well I just recently learned from my daughter that you’re not working at the daycare any longer?” “Uh, yeah. Unfortunately I was fired this Monday…” you awkwardly answer.

“I’m sorry about that. Izzy has been really sad about it, I wanted to ask if you’ve found a new job already?”

“Not yet, I’ve been looking but I haven’t had much luck yet,” you confess.

“In that case I have an offer to make,” he firmly continues and you perk up at his words. “I’ve been thinking about pulling Izzy out of daycare, but I didn’t want to do it until I found someone to take good care of her. You’ve been her absolute favorite and she’s been devastated since you’ve been gone. If you’re up for a job of this kind, I would like to offer you a spot as Izzy’s nanny.”

“Oh!” is all you react, completely not expecting this call.

“I know there are a lot to discuss, but if you’re interested, I would be more than happy to have a chat with you sometime this weekend? To go over the details and see if we can make it work.”

“I, uh… Um, yeah. We can meet, that sounds good. When would it be good for you?”

“How about tomorrow afternoon?”

“That can work.”

“Amazing!” he beams. “I’ll send you the address through text if that’s alright for you.”

“Yeah, of course. When should I be there?”

“Would three o’clock suit you?”

“Absolutely,” you nod, stunned at the turn of events.

“Great, thank you so much, and once again, sorry to bother you on your Friday evening. Looking forward to see you tomorrow!”

“Thank you, Mr. Styles, see you soon!”

You get back in line at the bathroom and then make your way back to the table where Heather gives you a puzzled look.

“Did you take a massive shit or something?” she jokes as you take your seat and stare back at her, still in shock.

“No, I had a very interesting call, actually.”

“With who?”

“Um, Izzy Styles’ dad just called and offered me a job as her nanny.”

Heather almost chokes on her drink, coughing at the news. You hand her a napkin as she dries her chin off from her cocktail.

“Harry Styles wants you to be the nanny of his daughter?” she gasps.

“You know Izzy’s dad?”

“Y/N, everyone knows him! He is the sexiest man to walk this planet and not to mention that he is like stupidly rich! Have you not seen him yet?”

“Not really,” you shrug. “Izzy was picked up by an old woman most of the times, I guess I never worked when her dad came for her.”

“That explains why you’re not squirming already,” she scoffs. “That man is like… crazy hot, I’m telling you. I bumped into him one morning when I guess he was dropping Izzy off, the way he said ‘Pardon me, Darling’ made my knees shake,” she tells you, faking an accent that’s nowhere near what Mr. Styles sounded like on the phone.

“Well, I guess I’ll see him for myself. I’m meeting him tomorrow to discuss details,” you shrug and Heather slams her hand on the table.

“Oh my God! You’re gonna work for Harry Fucking Styles! Get ready because your panties will be soaking wet all the time,” she laughs like a hyena.

“Heather, stop!” you shake your head laughing too.

Following Mr. Styles’ call you decide to cut the night shorter than you intended, not wanting to look absolutely wasted when you meet him. Arriving home to your small, one bedroom apartment you take a quick shower before climbing to bed, staring up at the ceiling, trying to collect your thoughts. You told Heather you’re not willing to do the whole live-in nanny thing and Mr. Styles might not even want you to live with them, but now that the option is there, you realize it might not be the worst case scenario. Especially since you’re not really swimming in other job offers and you are in desperate need of anything at this point.

Despite having consumed quite some alcohol the previous night, you wake up at a reasonable hour in the morning, finding a text from Mr. Styles about the address you’d have to be going in the afternoon. You make a quick trip to the grocery store and do some chores before you start getting ready for the meeting. You opt for a simple black dress that reaches your knees and pair it with a little funkier, flower printed blazer to bring some color into the outfit.

Punching the address into the GPS you see that it’s taking you to the outer skirt of the city to the neighborhood that’s known to have some quite luxurious estates and you immediately think back to what Heather said about him being ridiculously rich. Driving down the streets in your old Volkswagen you couldn’t stand out more at a place where at least three cars park on the driveways and one of them is a Ferrari or a Porsche.

There’s a massive security gate under the address that’s your destination and it’s left open so you can pull up to the driveway easily. You park next to a fucking Tesla, finding it extremely funny to see your car next to it, but it is what it is. Walking up to the front door you ring the bell as you take a look at the house that can easily considered to be a mansion. Guessing from the outside there are at least about five bedrooms in it and you can only imagine what other luxurious units are squeezed into it.

Soon enough the front door opens and you find yourself staring back at a breathtakingly gorgeous man, wearing a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up and black suit pants, his chocolate curls falling to his forehead as his emerald eyes fall on you, a warm smile tugging on his lips.

Shit. Heather was fucking right, you think to yourself swallowing hard.

“Miss Y/L/N, it’s so nice to see you. I’m Harry, Izzy’s dad, come on in!” he invites you inside before a short handshake.

“Nice to meet you too, Mr. Styles.”

“Please, just call me Harry. I don’t like formalities at home,” he asks you as the two of you walk further inside until you arrive to what looks like a living room, but it’s actually the size of your apartment.

“Only if you call me Y/N,” you smile at him and he nods right away.

“Miss Y/N!” you hear a small voice call out and turning around you see Izzy running down the hallway until she throws herself against your legs.

“Oh, hello Sunshine!” you hum, squatting down so you can hug her.

“I missed you!” she pouts, rubbing her eyes.

“I missed you too,” you smile at her, caressing her soft cheeks before standing up. An older lady walks in, the one you’ve seen picking up Izzy. She approaches you with a friendly smile as she extends a hand towards you.

“Hi, I’m Ruth, it’s nice to meet you.” “Y/N, nice to meet you too.”

“Ruth, would you take Izzy outside while I talk to Miss—erm, Y/N here?” Harry requests. Ruth nods and taking Izzy’s hand she lures her outside to look for ladybugs in the backyard and that immediately catches her attention. The two of them leave through the sliding door, giving you and Harry privacy.

“Please, have a seat,” he gestures towards the sectional couch. “Would you like something to drink?”

“I’m good, thank you,” you smile at him as he sits in an armchair across you.

The interior of the house is quite cozy, kind of modern with a hint of vintage touches that make it less rigid, a pop of color showing at most corners so it’s not too monochrome. You quite like it.

“Y/N, I once again apologize for calling you at such an inappropriate hour, but I often work late and I wanted to get in touch with you as soon as possible upon hearing the news.”

“Don’t worry about it, I understand.”

“Isabelle mentioned it to me on Thursday that the other workers told her you no longer work at the daycare so I asked around a little yesterday and was informed that they let you go earlier in the week.”

“It was quite sudden for me as well,” you chuckle lightly, feeling a little anxious to talk about it.

“I know it’s not too appropriate, but I asked why they chose you to part ways with and I have to say it’s outraging that some parents are so ignorant and wayward. I’m really sorry this had to be the reason out of everything.”

“Thank you.” It actually feels nice that he thinks the same, this whole firing was ridiculous and you were losing hope in humanity, but Harry is now very much restoring it.

“Let me walk you through what the situation is here and what I was thinking about.” You nod and listen carefully. “I’m president of a record label and it consumes most of my time, I sometimes work sixty hours a week which I know is not ideal and healthy and I’m trying to change it, but it’s not an easy situation. I thought that putting Izzy into daycare was a good idea, but it’s been getting harder to work around her schedule as a single parent with so much work on my hands. Ruth is a family friend who has been helping tremendously with Izzy, but she is not getting any younger and she would like to retire fully and spend more time with her own grandkids. So I’ve been thinking about hiring a nanny for Izzy and try to make her days work around mine while I’m able to do that. She is going to start preschool in little over a year and I want to spend as much time with her as possible, but it’s not easy when the schedule depends on an institution. When she told me about your firing I had the thought that you might be interested in taking the spot as her nanny. She is obsessed with you, wouldn’t stop talking about what you do every day, and I might have also looked into your professional background. I like what I’ve seen and I’m very much into the way you’ve been dealing with the kids at the daycare. Openness is really important and I want Izzy to grow up in an environment that teaches her about being equal and supportive towards each other. I would be more than happy if you’d be the one taking care of Izzy while I’m not available.”

To say the east you’re stunned at how forward and open he was about the offer and his compliment about your professional background is quite flattering. You can tell he is doing an amazing job at raising Izzy as an open and accepting human, she was always one of the nicest and sweetest kids who always made sure to include all her peers in the games you played. And it’s obvious Harry is not just being a hypocrite, his tattooed arm, painted nails and ring clad fingers are not quite what you’d traditionally imagine a man like him wear, but he does it well and clearly doesn’t give a fuck what others might think about it.

Harry continues with how much he thought you’d be earning for the job and you almost choke on your own saliva. It’s almost three times as much as you’ve been earning at the daycare and you’d be able to save a good chunk every month which is quite amazing.

“I have to ask, were you thinking about a situation where I live with you or I’d have to be coming here every day?”

“Well, essentially it would be the easiest for everyone if you moved in. I have plenty of rooms you could choose from and you’d have access to everything else as well, of course, including the home gym, the pool, the sauna and the entertainment room. But I understand if you are not willing to make that commitment. If you choose to live here you wouldn’t be charged anything, naturally.”

This actually sounds like a dream, moving into this luxury mansion from your cramped little apartment and being able to save the money you’ve been paying on rent.

“And what would be the time management? If I moved in it would easily make me fall into a habit of always working, which is not quite ideal,” you point it out.

“Of course,” he nods. “I like to take care of her morning routine so you’d have to start around nine when I leave to the office. If we can make this deal working I’d like her to start taking some extra classes during the day, moving her activities earlier in the day so her afternoons would be free. She takes piano lessons on Mondays and Wednesdays, a swimming instructor comes here on Thursdays and she is taking French lessons every Tuesday and Friday. Everything takes place here, I would reschedule her activities to take place between nine and twelve. You wouldn’t have to worry about her during those times. You’d cover lunch time and then the afternoons. I try to get home between four and six and just work from home if it’s possible so I can be around her. You’d have to only help out whenever I can’t make it home in time I have urgent works that have to be done from home. We could have dinner time together and then her night time routine is my duty again. Ruth is willing to help me out on Saturdays and I spend Sundays with her strictly without any work distraction so you’d have the weekends off unless something comes up. In those cases I would check in with you beforehand and arrange it however it works best for you.”

You’re speechless for a moment. What he just shared doesn’t seem too bad, you might have to work a lot more, but being one on one with just one kid is much easier than dealing with fifteen of them at once. Not to mention that the money is still amazing compared to what you’d have to be doing.

“I’m gonna be honest with you, it’s an amazing offer. Izzy is such a sweet girl, I would be more than happy to take care of her.”

Harry smiles at you warmly, clearly proud of his daughter, as he should be.

“Can I ask for some time to think about it? It would be a huge commitment.” “Of course. Take your time and let me know whatever your decision is.”

“Thank you.”

Harry offers a quick tour in the house regardless, the kitchen is massive, they have a nice dining area with floor-to-ceiling windows looking out to the green slopes of the backyard that seems to be Izzy’s kingdom. She has a playhouse that could almost function as a real one, the pool is filled with floaties for her and she has her own playground further in the back with slides, monkey bars and a swing set. Your assumptions were almost right about the number of bedrooms. Beside Harry’s master and Izzy’s own room there’s one that’s been used by Ruth, one that’s for Harry’s mother and sister for whenever they are staying over and there are three additional rooms now serving as guest bedrooms, one of those would be turned into your room if you chose to move in. The gym seems better than the one you’ve been going whenever you felt like being a little active, the entertainment room has everything you could ever think about for a room this sort of and the sauna is already calling your name. Living and working here might actually feel like a vacation.

“Miss Y/N! Look what I found!” Izzy runs up to you when you and Harry step out to the backyard, holding her pointing finger up. A ladybug is wandering around her tiny finger, not even bothering with the amazed girl that’s inspecting it.

“Wow! How many dots do you see on it?” you ask and she knits her eyebrows together, counting the black dots.

“Five!”

“Yes, good job!” you ruffle her curls as she smiles up at you proudly. She really is an angel, you’ve grown to like her a lot and you would be lying if you said you didn’t get emotional over thinking about never seeing her again. Being able to take care of her and give her the best possible childhood would be such a dream and the chance to do that is right in front of you.

“I’ll be waiting for your call, Y/N,” Harry smiles at you walking you towards the front door.

“Harry, I don’t think you need to do that,” you speak up and see his face fall, he obviously took it the wrong way, thinking that you want to say no to his offer.

“Oh…”

“It’s not that,” you chuckle softly. “I would love to take the job. And if you’re still okay with that, I’d like to move in, it would make everything just so much easier.”

You watch as his expression changes from disappointed to hopeful as he cracks a smile nodding.

“Yeah, the offer is still there. When do you think you can start?”

“How soon do you want to pull Izzy out of daycare?”

“As soon as possible. If I have to I can go in on Monday and do all the paperwork. You could move in sometime during the week maybe?”

“I have to talk to my landlord about my lease, but I’m fine with moving in during the week,” you nod smiling and you can’t help but feel excited.

“That would be wonderful. Thank you so much. I’m looking forward to working with you.”

You discuss a few more details and then you head out, thinking about how the next time you’ll be coming here, you’ll be moving in.

“If this one doesn’t go to the donate box, I’m leaving right now.”

Heather holds up a pair of denim shorts, painted in the colors of the flag of the States. She holds it pinched between her index finger and thumb as if it was something nasty and disgusting

“You know I only bought that for that stupid frat party. I never wore that anywhere else, so you can put it into the donate box.”

“Thank God!” she groans and throws the shorts into said box.

It’s Sunday evening and your place looks like a warzone, boxes taking up the place everywhere as you’re packing your life up to officially move into the Styles mansion. You agreed with Harry to bring over a good chunk of your stuff on Monday and then settle in for real on Tuesday. He is pulling Izzy out of daycare first thing on Monday and you’d stay at home with her for the first time on Wednesday. It’s been a fast paced change, but you couldn’t care less. With the amount Harry is gonna pay you, you’ll be able to save up a good chunk every month, like you always wanted to.

As you finish putting your books away you reach the shelves that contain all your photo albums. Photography has been your passion for a long time. It started as a simple hobby sometime through your freshman year in high school, but in senior year, your photos filled the yearbook and you even did the design of it too. You’ve had a few gigs since then, some weddings and pregnancy shoots and you like to sell your photos individually as well. You wouldn’t have imagined how much a simple nature photo costs.

Flipping through the one on the top, you can’t help the bitter smile on your face as you see the photos from your brother’s 14th birthday three years ago. There are tons of family pictures with you, your brother Trevor and your parents, seemingly being all happy and joyful. Things were different back then and you didn’t see anything coming.

It’s past midnight by the time you more or less finish packing, you’ve filled three big boxes with things to donate so you have significantly less stuff to move to the Styles mansion in the morning. Heather spends the night, but leaves early in the morning since she needs to go to work. The moving van you rented out arrives a little after eleven and the two guys from the moving company helps you load it with about two thirds of your stuff. Harry is at work when you arrive and Izzy is still at the daycare, Ruth is the only one at home, she helps you out even though you tell her not to break a sweat over it.

“Let me help, makes me feel needed,” she chuckles sweetly when you try to get her to stop, but she insists on bringing in some smaller bags and boxes.

You’re still unpacking when Ruth arrives back with Izzy a little after four. You hear her little feet tapping against the floor as she runs down the hallway, bursting into your future room.

“Miss Y/N! You’re here!” she cheers, throwing herself into your arms as you sit on the floor, being the perfect level for the little girl.

“I am! How was your day, little Sunshine?”

“We finger painted and I made a painting for daddy, do you want to see it?”

“Of course!”

Izzy disappears to get her backpack from Ruth who is making her some snacks in the kitchen. She soon returns with her painting, presenting it to you proudly.

“Look! This is me and this is daddy!” she points at the two human-like figures, the only thing giving away who is who is that one of them is bigger than the other one. “And then this is mommy!” she then adds, pointing at a star in the upper corner of the painting and you freeze.

In the midst of everything, you didn’t even have the time to question why Harry is a single parent. To be honest your first guess would have been divorce, but Izzy’s painting is telling you something a lot more tragic.

“It’s beautiful,” you smile at her, trying to hide your surprise at the new information. “I’m sure he’ll love it.”

Ruth makes sure Izzy is busy while you finish up unpacking and when you’re about to be done, Harry arrives home. Approaching your room even though the door is open he knocks on the doorframe, catching your attention.

“Hello, just wanted to see how things are going. Do you need help with anything? I’m sorry I couldn’t be here to help with the boxes and all…”

“Hi! Oh don’t worry about that, I had plenty of help,” you shrug smiling. “Everything is going fine, thank you.”

“Great. I did all the paperwork today, tomorrow is going to be Izzy’s last day at daycare. You’re still up to start on Wednesday, right?”

“Yeah, of course. I only have a few things left at home so I’ll be all set by tomorrow.”

“Thank you so much,” he smiles warmly. “And thank you for being so quick about everything. It means a lot to me that I can spend more time with Izzy thanks to you. I really appreciate it.”

“I should be thanking you the opportunity. I wasn’t really drowning in the job offers,” you chuckle making him smile as well. “Please let me know if you want me to change anything, I have a plan I would like to go around with Izzy’s days, but of course, your word is the most important.”

“I trust you to take good care of her during the day. The only thing I want is to have her home when I get home. Ruth couldn’t always pick her up before and I really hated to do the extra trip and pick her up from daycare instead of coming straight home to be with her.”

“Understandable. I’ll make sure to plan accordingly,” you nod smiling.

“Y/N, I want you to feel home as much as possible. This is your place just as much as it is ours now. Izzy and I go grocery shopping every Sunday, it’s kind of a father-daughter thing we do every week. We keep a list on the fridge, feel free to add whatever you need and we’ll get it.”

You can’t help the smile that stretches across your lips, because this is such a sweet thing to do, when Harry could easily afford someone to do the work for him. Yet he still uses this time to be with his daughter.

“Yeah, sure, thank you!”

“I’ll get out of your hair now. Would you like to stay for dinner?”

“Oh, no, but thank you. I still have some things to take care of before tomorrow.”

“Alright,” he nods before walking out. He leaves you thinking hard about him. You wonder what really happened to Izzy’s mom and if he is dating someone right now. A man like him is basically a dream to any woman, you doubt he is having a hard time finding a partner, but you haven’t seen any sign of another woman around the house. Guess you’ll have to wait and figure it out yourself.

The apartment is awfully empty on your last night here. When you moved in about a year ago you didn’t think you’d be moving into a mansion from here. You spend the evening cleaning out a bit so you leave the place in good condition. Your landlord was terribly nice about your early leave, you could easily agree that you’d pay for the two more weeks that’s left from the month and that would be all, no extra costs for moving out before your lease was up.

You’re cleaning off the kitchen counter when your phone starts ringing, it’s a video call from your brother.

“Hey there! What’s up?” you ask, propping up the phone on top of the microwave while you move around, doing your thing. Trevor seems to be lying in bed, a black hoodie covering his upper body.

“Hello, just wanted to see how the moving has gone today.”

Despite the ten year age gap between you and Trevor, your relationship couldn’t be better. Probably because you were old enough to see what a blessing a sibling really is when he was born.

“Everything went smoothly. I only have a few stuff to bring over, that can fit into my car tomorrow, so it’s fine.”

“Cool. How is the dude? What was his name again?”

“Harry. Harry Styles.” You see him pull his laptop to his lap and probably searches up Harry’s name before his eyes widen at the screen.

“This dude is big! He is the president of HES Records, they run some of the most popular singers these days.”

“Yeah? I was sure he is a big name judging from his mansion,” you chuckle.

“Have you looked him up yet?”

“Not really.” “Want me to read what’s here about him?”

“Sure,” you hum, continuing to clean while you listen to Trevor.

“Alright. Apparently he is thirty-one, took over the record company when he was just twenty-five because his father wanted to retire early. The number of talents working under the label has doubled since he has taken over and many of his clients have won Grammy Awards. Impressive,” he hums, scrolling down on whatever site he has just found. “He is known to be a private person, the last time he made an appearance… Oh shit…” Trevor breathes out and you turn to your phone with furrowed eyebrows.

“What?”

“Wow, this shit is heavy. It says the last time he made a public appearance was in 2017, not long before his wife was killed in a car accident.”

You freeze, feeling your stomach drop to the floor, immediately thinking back at Izzy’s painting of her family. It very much makes sense why she said the star was her mother, it must be the way Harry explained to her what happened to her mother.

“It happened in 2018, she wasn’t in the fault, a drunk driver ignored the red light and ran into her car at a crossroad. This is terrible, oh God.”

“Poor Izzy, she probably doesn’t even know what really happened.”

“Must have been hard on him, there’s not much about him since then.”

“Can’t blame him for not wanting to be in the spotlight after losing his wife.”

“Yeah.”

Trevor shows you a few pictures of him from years ago, he has always been handsome, but your favorites are the few from the times when he had long hair. He looked so different, like a whole other person, but still, he rocked it perfectly.

Then you show Trevor around in the empty apartment before loving to the couch, turning all your attention to him.

“How have things been?” you ask with a sigh. Trevor purses his lips and shrugs.

“Other than the constant screaming matches on the phone and endless fights every time dad comes over for more of his stuff? Everything is rainbows and butterflies.”

“Is it really that bad?” you scowl.

“It’s like they never run out of stuff to throw at each other, but I feel like this much couldn’t happen even in their twenty-eight years together,” he scoffs making you chuckle.

“I’m sorry you’re stuck in the middle of all that.”

“It’s like payback,” he hums and you give him a puzzled look. “You had it bad growing up for being the surprise baby, making them teen parents. Then I came at a reasonable time, they already knew the drill, but now that you’re out of the house I’m getting all the shit, having to deal with their divorce.”

“I’m really sorry, Trev,” you sigh, feeling guilty that he is all alone at home.

“It’s fine, I don’t blame you,” he shrugs. “But you could make it better if you asked your millionaire boss if I could hang out at his house sometimes.” He grins at you slyly and you roll your eyes. Of course he is already thinking about using you for his own good!

“I don’t want to push the boundaries just yet, but I’ll see what I can do.”

You talk a little more about school and what he’s been up to with his friends before ending the call. You take a shower and go to bed right away, feeling extremely worn out from all the packing you’ve done through the day.

The next day you pack the remainder of your stuff into your car and then your landlord comes over to do a checkup, though he fully trusts you took good care of the place.

“Again, thank you for your understanding, I didn’t plan to leave so early, but it just kinda came up,” you tell him, handing him over your keys.

“Don’t worry about it. I hope your new place will treat you right,” he smiles kindly at you.

You chat a little longer before you leave and head over to your new home. Once again, Ruth is the only one home and being the angel that she is, she helps you to carry your stuff up from the car before leaving to get Izzy from daycare. Since there’s not much left to unpack you finish quite fast, leaving you some extra time alone in the house. Walking around you try to learn your way around, still finding it a bit of a maze. You find Harry’s home office’s door open and after a bit of hesitation you step inside, just taking a look around. Yeah, it’s kind of a nosy thing to do, but you couldn’t help yourself.

His space is quite clear, he keeps his stuff neatly organized. Certificates and plaques are hung up on the wall, showing off his many successes in the business. There’s a huge bookcase near his desk and there you see some family photos… ones that include his late wife as well.

She was beautiful. There’s a picture of the three of them in the hospital from the day Izzy was born, Harry has an arm around his wife’s shoulders who is holding baby Izzy, both of them radiating happiness as they just become parents. Your heart breaks when you see the photo next to it, it’s just Harry and her in Paris, the Eiffel tower standing tall behind them as they are grinning widely at each other, foreheads touching. Harry has his arms wrapped around her slim figure while she is hugging his neck. They look so happy and in love, like they were always meant to be with each other. Knowing what tragedy hit them is just hard to process even for you, who never even met the woman.

You hear the front door open and Izzy is laughing at something, so you rush out before anyone could catch you snooping around.

“Hi Miss Y/N!” she chirps upon seeing you when you meet them in the living room.

“Izzy, you don’t have to call me Miss Y/N, Y/N is perfectly fine,” you smile at her, caressing her rosy cheeks.

“Okay. Ruth, can I please have some ice-cream?”

“I’m afraid we ran out of ice-cream, but I’ll put it on your grocery list,” Ruth tells her, a pout tugging on Izzy’s lips.

“How about this: I’m gonna make a delicious smoothie, that’s almost like melted ice-cream, would you like some?” you offer and her eyes brighten up immediately, nodding right away.

While Ruth puts away Izzy’s things they brought home from daycare, while the two of you move to the kitchen to make the smoothie together. You find some frozen berries in the freezer and pair them with bananas, putting them all into the blender with oatmilk, blending it all together.

“How is it?” you ask Izzy, who is sitting on top of the counter, tasting the pink smoothie that leaves a cute little mustache above her cherry lips.

“I like it!” she smiles, scrunching her nose.

“We can make it some other time then,” you smile, drinking up your portion.

Izzy is dancing around the kitchen, babbling about her last day at daycare while you clean the glasses and the blender when Harry arrives. He is wearing a baby blue suit with a crispy dress shirt underneath, looking fashionable but still business appropriate at the same time.

“Daddy!” Izzy launches towards her daddy, who catches her, throwing her into the air before holding her in his arms, joining you in the kitchen.

“Hey baby. How was your day?”

“Good, all my friends hugged me but I told them we would meet in the park.”

“That’s right, and I have the number of all your friends’ parents, we can have playdates with them whenever you want to,” he smiles before his eyes meet yours. “Hi Y/N, everything went well with the rest of your moving?”

“Yeah, I’m all set,” you smile back at him.

“That’s great. I have a few calls to make, but I’ll be done in thirty probably. Would you mind looking out for Izzy in the meanwhile?”

“Of course. She promised me to take me around her room, so we could do that, what do you say?” you ask the little girl who nods in excitement.

Harry disappears in his office and Izzy pulls you to her room, showing you just about every toy she owns. Her room is a typical girl’s room, the walls are painted a light pink color, her bedframe resembles a castle and she has a dollhouse as big as your previous bathroom. Harry clearly spoils her rotten, but what you noticed is that she is not one of those annoying bratty only children who can’t take no. She was clearly taught how to behave and always listen to the adults.

While Izzy is putting her stuffed animals away after introducing you to all of them, you spot a photo frame near her bed, decorated with macaroni. You remember when you all did that together at daycare and now you get to see the photo that ended up behind the glass.

It’s a photo of Izzy and her mother, she was just a baby and doing quick math in your head you realize it must have been not long before her accident, might even be the last picture taken of the two of them. Her mom is smiling at the camera while Izzy is sleeping in her arms peacefully. Izzy looked a lot like her when she was a baby, the bridge of her nose and her lips resembled her mother’s, though now she appears to take more after her dad with her chocolate curls and piercing green eyes.

“That’s my mommy,” she tells you when she sees you looking at the photo.

“It’s a nice picture,” you smile at her, trying your best to hide how heartbroken you feel even just looking at the photo.

“Daddy said she had to go up to the sky, but she is watching me from there,” she explains, clearly not entirely sure what it means, but you can tell she misses her. “Daddy said she is living between the stars now and that she loves me very much.” You need to fight your tears back at her words.

“I’m sure of that too,” you breathe out smiling at her.

“Izzy, do you want to help me make dinner?” Harry walks in smiling, though it disappears for a moment when he sees the two of you looking at the photo of his wife, but he is quick to control himself.

“Yes! What are we making?” she runs over to him, jumping up and down.

“Uh, chicken and veggies.”

You step away from the photo, pretending like nothing just happened. You’re dying to discuss it with Harry, hear him talk about it, but you won’t push him. If he wants to share it, he’ll come to you.

“Alright, come on then,” he smiles down at her. “Thank you for watching her, I’ll take over from here. Food will be ready in about an hour, Ruth is staying with us as well,” he informs you.

“Great, I’ll… I’ll be in my room,” you nod.

The first two weeks on the job brush past smoothly. It takes you some time to get used to your new home, but taking care of Izzy doesn’t feel like work, so you’re feeling amazing in your new job. You easily fall into a schedule with her.

The mornings are always Harry’s duty. He wakes her up around seven-thirty, makes her breakfast and dresses her for the day before he leaves around nine. Thanks to this habit of his, you’re able to sleep in until eight, leaving you plenty of time to get ready for your day with Izzy before Harry has to leave. Depending on the weather, the two of you then either take over the back yard or move to her room for some play time before her class of the day starts in the noon. Piano with Rosaline on Mondays and Wednesdays, French lesson with Lyon on Tuesdays and Fridays and then Izzy’s favorite on Thursdays, swimming class with Kitty.

Izzy loves to help in the kitchen so you usually make lunch together. Once her tummy is full she takes a nap before you sit down to learn something new every day. You’ve been teaching her the numbers and the alphabet, or some days you just talk about anything that interests her and learn at least two things she hasn’t know yet, all through games so she doesn’t even realize what you’re doing. You’re usually done by around three, leaving you time to take a visit to the park, if Harry is not planning to take her himself later that day.

You’re strictly home by four, unless it’s Tuesday when she has her dance class until five. Those days you drive her to her class, run some quick errands and pick her up. Harry usually uses his extra time in the office on these days, but he is always home by six to have dinner together with his daughter.

Once Harry is home you’re off duty, though you like to stay close, not just in case something comes up for Harry, but because you genuinely like spending time with Izzy and Harry, seeing them interacting.

Harry sometimes has to work on Saturdays as well, but just as he promised Ruth is always here to take over duty on those days, leaving you free for the whole weekend. It’s been working perfectly for you and those very few concerns you had about moving in dissolve quite fast as soon as you start working.

Though it’s been pretty clear to you before, you now one hundred percent sure that Harry is living for his daughter. She is always a priority, he doesn’t hesitate to decline any work calls he gets in the evenings if Izzy needs him, if she is a little fussy and wants her daddy’s attention or when they are in the middle of a game. He is clearly trying to keep a balance between his work and role as a father and from what you’ve seen, it seems like he is doing an amazing job in that. However you haven’t learned much else about him. He is all friendly towards you, but makes sure to keep it business casual, not quite keen on getting to know each other better as just friends, maybe.

A Friday afternoon you’re having a little tea party in the backyard with Izzy when Harry arrives home, but this time, he is not alone. Through the sliding door you spot him with a blonde guy who is talking very articulately as Harry is typing on his phone. The man looks about Harry’s age, but you can’t tell if he is a friend or a business partner, but if Harry brought him home, he is more likely to be a friend of his.

“Uncle Niall!” Izzy gasps when he spots the man through the glass and abandoning the tea party, she starts running towards the door. The man spots her and slides the door open grinning widely before she jumps into his arms.

“Little bugger! How are ya?” the man laughs, holding Izzy in a tight hug before leaning back to take a good look at her. You notice his thick Irish accent and it suits his appearance quite well. You head inside as well, in case Harry needs Izzy busy for a little longer, though he doesn’t mind having her around, kissing the top of her head before finishing up whatever he was doing on his phone, watching Niall and Izzy smiling.

“I’m having a tea party with Y/N, wanna join?” Izzy invites the man, who then looks at you for the first time, smiling widely.

“Hi, I’m Y/N, Izzy’s new nanny,” you introduce yourself, holding out a hand that he shakes, keeping Izzy in his other arm without a problem.

“Nice to meet ya, I’m Niall.”

“Y/N, Niall is an old friend of mine. He is joining us for dinner, hope you don’t mind,” Harry informs you and you find it funny how he is kind of asking for your approval when it’s his house.

“Not at all.”

“Harry has told me he hired a pair of new hands to help, but he didn’t mention it’s a stunning young woman!” Niall beams, making you blush right away.

“Ni, I would appreciate it if you didn’t try to pick up my daughter’s new nanny,” Harry warns him lightly, though there’s some firmness in his tone, not that it scares Niall in any way, he even winks at you.

“Oh come on, you can’t expect me not to flirt when you surround yourself with so many pretty women! First Ruth and now Y/N!”

You smile at him, something is telling you he wasn’t joking and he tried to flirt with Ruth as well. Harry just rolls his eyes at his friend, taking Izzy from him.

“Keep it in your pants, Niall,” Harry tells him and though it’s nothing vulgar, it catches Izzy’s attention.

“What should he keep in his pants?” she questions, making your and Harry’s eyes grow big right away. Luckily, Niall keeps his cool and takes care of the situation.

“My attitude, Sweetie. Your daddy is just jealous because I’m more handsome than he is,” he smirks at the little girl, successfully avoiding an awkward conversation about what it is that Niall should keep in his pants.

You smile at his reply, even though you are not that sure about the comparison he just made between himself and Harry.

“Izzy, do you want to continue the tea party?” you ask her and even though just a minute ago she was inviting Niall to join her, now she shakes her head no. “Alright, I’ll pack it up then.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it. We’ll do it, right Izzy? She brought it all out, she is going to be the one packing it up,” Harry reminds her and she nods.

The two of them move outside to put her little tea set back into the basket she keeps it in, leaving you and Niall alone.

“So Y/N, how did you end up here?”

“I was working at Izzy’s daycare, but they sent me away not long ago. Then Harry contacted me and offered the job which was a lifesaver, truly.”

“That’s great! Well, not that you got fired, but that you ended up here. I know it means a lot for Harry that he can spend more time with Izzy, you’re making everything a lot easier for him.” Niall walks over into the kitchen and grabs a water for himself as he leans against the counter. “I can see that he is a lot more relaxed now already.”

“Really?” you ask, surprised.

“Yeah. I know he always used to stress about picking Izzy up, or forgetting something the daycare asked for. Now he can make it all work just how he wants to, that fits him a lot more. It hasn’t been easy on him since Maggie’s death.”

This is the first time you hear anyone talk about Harry’s wife and now you just learned her name. Maggie.

“Being a single parents is never easy,” you add with a soft smile, not wanting to interrogate Niall about Maggie. It’s Harry’s place to tell you about her, if he wants to, of course.

Soon enough Izzy and Harry take over the kitchen, Niall helping them this time and you leave them alone, taking some time for yourself in your room. Later you go out to check if there’s anything you could help with, Harry asks you to set the table as he finishes up the cooking.

“So, Y/N. Tell me a little bit about yourself!” Niall asks you over dinner.

“Um, what do you want to know?” you ask, feeling a little flustered to be in the spotlight.

“I don’t know, family, friends, hobbies?”

“Well, I have a younger brother, Trevor. He is seventeen and already taller than me.”

“Oh, that seems like a big age gap.”

“Ten years, to be exact,” you nod. “He was planned, I wasn’t,” you add with a soft chuckle. “But we have a great relationship, so it’s all good. We talk almost every day.”

“I’m sure you’ll get well along with Gemma then!” Niall beams, glancing at Harry.

“Gemma is my sister,” Harry explains. “Though she is not that much older than me.”

“But you can bond over being stuck with a younger brother who outgrew you,” Niall jokes making all three of you laugh.

All through dinner you realize how different Niall is from Harry, but in a good way. While Harry is more quiet and calm, Niall is kind of all over the place, buzzing and chatting every chance he got, but the two of them make a great pair, bringing what the other doesn’t have to the table.

After dinner you attempt to leave them again, but Niall makes you stay as they open a glass of wine. Harry puts on a movie for Izzy to keep her busy, giving the three of you a chance to sit out at the terrace from where you still can keep an eye on the little girl inside.

“Alright, Y/N. When are we going on our first date then?” Niall asks out of the blue, a cocky smile tugging on his lips.

“Niall, for fuck’s sake,” Harry breathes out as you let out an awkward chuckle.

“What? I think there’s some electricity going on between us.”

“I, uhh—I don’t…”

“Please don’t turn me down!” he sighs dramatically, making you smile.

“You’ve been great company, but I’m not sure we should go out,” you tell him. He huffs in disappointment, but it’s clear he didn’t take it to his heart.

“Is it because you’re taken? I didn’t even ask, are you dating anyone? You can’t be engaged, because I don’t see any rings,” he points out, nodding towards your naked fingers, however his words make you suck on your breath.

“I’m not engaged. Not anymore,” you admit and you watch their eyes go wide at the information.

“Wait, you’ve been engaged before?” Harry asks, clearly surprised, if not shocked.

“Yeah. For about four months,” you nod, running your tongue over your lips as you reach for your wine, taking a few large gulps.

“And what did the fucker do?” Niall bluntly questions, earning a look from Harry. “What? I’m just curious what twat it takes to lose a woman like her!”

“Maybe she doesn’t want to talk about that,” Harry presses, but you shrug.

“It’s not a secret. We dated for about two years before he proposed. I said yes, started planning the wedding and everything, then found out that he had been cheating on me with his assistant for about a year. We broke up, simple as that. It’s in the past, happened a year ago.”

“That’s some next level asshole bullshit,” Niall shakes his head while Harry is just staring at you with an unreadable look before he turns his attention at his glass, still clearly deep in his thoughts and you wonder what he thinks of you now. Here is the loser who not only got cheated on, but lost her job, all of that just in one year.

Harry doesn’t react, and a moment later Izzy comes out because she is thirsty, so daddy duties call him away. Niall stays a little, but heads home soon as well.

“It was nice meeting you, Y/N. The date still stands though,” he smirks when he pulls back from the short hug he enveloped you in.

“Alright,” you chuckle, slowly getting used to his flirty act.

You was the wine glasses and head back to your room while Harry walks Niall out and then takes Izzy upstairs to give her a bath. You don’t cross paths until later when you leave your room, already in your pajama pants and an oversized t-shirt to grab some water for yourself and he walks out of Izzy’s room just then, probably done with putting her to sleep.

“I’m sorry if Niall made you uncomfortable, he didn’t mean to be rude or anything,” he apologizes as the two of you walk together.

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” you chuckle softly. “It was kind of a boost to my ego, if I’m being honest.”

Harry huffs with a smile and stops at the kitchen island, his fingers tapping on his lips as you grab yourself a bottled water.

“I’m… I’m sorry about… about what you told us earlier.”

Closing the fridge you look at him, seeing that he is kind of hesitant, like he is not sure he should have spoken up, but you appreciate the thought.

“It’s alright. Just water under the bridge,” you shrug.

“I just feel bad you had to go through that.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” you chuckle softly. “It sucked, yeah. I really thought I would live happily ever after with Keith, but instead I got a lesson.”

“A lesson?”

“When we broke up I was obviously on the floor, both literal and theoretical way. I thought it was my fault, that I did something wrong and that’s why he did what he did. I even thought that I’m not worthy of being loved and being in love again. Took me time to realize that no matter what happened, I still deserve to be happy and to find someone to love and who can love me back.”

It appears that your words touch him deep, staring back at you, he just nods shortly, not replying to anything you just said. You’re not sure he is so silent because he doesn’t really understand what you just talked about or if it hit too close to home. Whatever it is, he keeps it to himself.

“Good night, Harry,” you smile at him before walking out of the kitchen and up into your room.

You’re lying in bed already when you hear him open his room’s door and then close it and suddenly he is all you can think about. The way his eyes sometimes pierce down on you, the way he taps his fingers against his lips when he is thinking hard or the proud smile that always plasters across his face whenever he is watching Izzy do basically anything. But you do see some pain in those beautiful green eyes of his and your desire to take just the smallest fracture of it away grows, even though he is not showing any sign that he is willing to share it with you.

The next morning, despite having the day off, you wake up quite early. You toss and turn, try to fall back asleep a little longer, but you just can’t. It’s a nice, warm morning and you decide to take advantage of the little balcony attached to your room. Wrapping yourself in your fluffy robe you grab the book you started reading a few days ago and sit out, enjoying the morning Sun that’s shining right at you on the balcony.

You don’t even realize for a while that you’re not the only early riser. When your eyes wander down to the big oak tree that’s near Izzy’s playground, you spot Harry doing what appears to be yoga on a green mattress, wearing nothing else, just a pair of black shorts. No shirt.

For a moment you think about going inside, feeling like you’re invading his privacy in a way, but you have the right to enjoy the morning Sun on your balcony, it’s not your fault he decided to have yoga at the exact same time. And it’s just hard not to look at his shirtless body stretching in all directions, twisting and turning as he goes through the motions, his tattooed body on full display.

It’s been clear since the moment you laid eyes on him for the first time that Harry is probably the most beautiful man you’ve ever met and that includes all your exes. Paired with his kind of mysterious charisma and the way he takes care of his daughter, he is the whole package, but you have been busy with Izzy to dwell too long on how attractive he really is. But right now, you are not working and he is very much shirtless in the backyard, teasing you with thoughts you definitely shouldn’t be thinking about when it comes to your boss.

A shaky breath leaves your mouth as you let yourself watch him just for a few more minutes before heading back inside, not wanting to get busted for being a stalker and also not wanting to see him in more positions and have even more unholy thoughts about him.

But what you don’t know is that just as you step inside, Harry catches your figure disappearing in your room, knowing well you saw him too.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

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[shihalyfie]

The paradox of the relationship between Takeru and Hikari

The issue of the relationship between Takeru and Hikari has been a question of interest since the series first aired, and especially after 02, which prominently depicted them constantly hanging out together and clearly having some kind of relation to each other...and yet, strangely, very rarely having a real heart-to-heart or even talking to each other much at all. The constant juxtapositions of them standing next to each other all of the time in both the series and in external media, combined with the fact they’re so associated with each other in terms of being Adventure returnees and with Digimon partners with similar evolutions, makes one almost mentally geared to associate them with each other, and yet we never really get to hear what they think about each other in the entirety of Adventure or 02′s running.

Part of this is because Takeru and Hikari are the two most “difficult to read” characters in the 02 team -- Hikari because she compulsively suppresses any selfish or negative feeling she has, and Takeru because he covers up his problems with a smile and pretends everything is okay, until it’s not. And, as it turns out, that “gap in communication” exists between the two of them as well; in the web of 02′s relationships, it’s a strange mix between being “comfortable around” each other, and yet not truly knowing each other...

Disclaimer before we continue: With some exceptions related to unambiguous canon depictions, I try to write my meta about relationships between characters in such a way that both shipping readings and non-shipping readings are possible in most cases, and my main reason for this is that I very strongly believe that even if you do ship the pair in question, it’s rather reductive (and not very fun) to stop an analysis at “anyway it’s because they’re in love” or something and not go any further. If you don’t care for Takeru/Hikari as a ship, I hope you can take this analysis as-is, and if you do happen to ship it, I hope you can take my analysis of the gaps in their relationship as “things they would have to consider and overcome for such a relationship to be possible” (i.e. a possible fanfic prompt?) and not me trying to dismiss the ship as inherently possible or impossible.

A second disclaimer: A lot of the important key points below are heavily dependent on how they were presented in the Japanese version of 02, especially in regards to the key 02 episode 13. The American English dub took a very large number of liberties with a lot of the below aspects, so if you are reading this with only that version as a reference, please be aware that there may be significant differences for the sake of avoiding confusion.

Hikari didn’t get to spend much of the series with the rest of the Adventure group, having been a “latecomer”, but once she enters, it’s rather interesting how much Takeru doesn’t socialize much with her. Granted, part of this was because of the circumstances -- there was a lot to be done, and Hikari had a cold relapse not long after they’d entered the Digital World -- but you’d really think Takeru would be interested in at least socializing with someone who’s actually his age, and yet we don’t get any real depiction of doing so outside of discussing important matters. It’s not to say that they never had any kind of conversation offscreen, but by the time we get to the end of Adventure, we have zero scope of what they actually think of each other.

By the time we get to 02, it turns out that this is probably by design.

First of all, we very quickly learn that the two of them did not keep up between Adventure and 02 -- they’re meeting each other again for the first time in a long time, and the last time they did meet was when they were much younger (probably their last meeting being the one depicted in the flashback in 02 episode 27). This is understandable considering that, up until the beginning of 02, Takeru lived in Sangenjaya and not Odaiba, meaning that it wasn’t like they’d have opportunities to meet up much in real life either, but the point is that this is how little contact and how little involvement they’d had in each other’s lives up until this point.

So, once the plot of 02 kicks off and the two of them become active as Chosen Children again, the two of them end up hanging out a lot. So much that Daisuke starts accusing them of having something between them. And the two of them never say anything to really firmly deny him, which of course only makes him more confused and upset, until 02 episode 17, when the concrete connection between them is established to the rest of the 02 team, and it’s properly disclosed that they were part of a whole adventure back in 1999 together.

Takeru knew Hikari before, and she’s still the one he knows the best out of this team, and on Hikari’s part, Takeru understands the nature of “being a Chosen Child” in ways the others don’t, and both of them had that formative experience that the others don’t understand. But 02 is a series that’s not only about relationships, but also about the differing nature of relationships -- it’s true that, having known each other well beforehand and also being all-around decent people, the two of them would certainly have an extra level of investment in each other’s welfare, but...

In 02 episode 13, we learn that as much as Takeru knows Hikari, he doesn’t really know her, and on Hikari’s part, she’s still incapable of communicating the extent of her thoughts so that he can.

The conversation between Takeru and Hikari behind the school in this episode is the first time we get to really see an opportunity for the two of them to bare their actual emotions, but nothing that can be called a "conversation" is had between them. Hikari is still plagued by a compulsive desire to not be a burden to others, including the idea of “burdening” her brother, and, when Takeru finally prompts her on what’s going on, she says nothing that properly clarifies what she’s going through, nothing but a cryptic mention of the “sea”, a statement that she "might be going away”, and a reference to her brother having always protected her beforehand. Takeru takes it as a sign that Hikari’s become overly dependent on Taichi, and snaps at her angrily -- a persistent symptom of him being unable to regulate his emotions properly -- and, unable to handle it, runs off awkwardly, leaving her alone to eventually be taken away. Later in the episode, Takeru reflects that he’d basically just doomed Hikari by his own actions, and with his last words to her having been something awful.

Ultimately, some degree of progress is made in that Hikari realizes that Takeru reaching out to her earlier makes him someone she should be reaching out to for help -- in the end, nobody in the 02 group had yet been able to reach out to her emotionally because of how closed-in she was, and the only people she truly trusted with her feelings up until that point were Taichi and Tailmon. So in other words, Takeru is another person she can finally “trust” with her feelings and welfare. But while Takeru is finally able to connect to her in some sense with this, when the two finally close off the episode and return to the real world, everything ends in complete silence. They do not say a single word to each other. They’re getting by with a sense of “inherent trust”, and their disconnect was resolved with that alone this time, but this problem hasn’t been fully solved yet and will be rearing its ugly head again by the time we get around to the Jogress arcs.

And so the two of them return back to their “comfortable with each other” status quo -- but, again, 02 is a series that portrays relationships in a very multi-layered and multifaceted form, and being comfortable around someone still doesn’t necessarily merit emotional closeness (for instance, Ken was pretty clearly indicated as being “comfortable” and straightforward in terms of working with Miyako in 02 episodes 25 and 33, but there’s no doubt that Daisuke’s the one who was more properly addressing the things he emotionally needed most at the time, which could arguably be said to be exactly why Ken was having a hard time adjusting to him at first). We see them “go off together” to do...completely mundane and practical things, like discussing why they’re still able to come to the Digital World in 02 episode 22, or trying to have their Digimon partners evolve on their own in 02 episode 24 -- they’re not having any kind of emotional heart-to-heart, they’re just there.

When you look at the wider picture, you can see that Hikari and Takeru’s relative comfort around each other at this point is largely because they’re still not comfortable being alone with anyone else yet. So far, they kind of had a bonding (not really bonding) session back in 02 episode 13, and they hadn’t had anything of the sort with anyone else, and they’re still the only people who understand certain things relevant to the adventure in 1999 that the others don’t. They’re both still ridiculously closed-in and guarded, and not trusting anyone with their feelings -- they can’t even trust each other with their feelings -- so they’re getting by on hanging out with each other because it’s either that or go off to be completely alone. As the two most “emotionally isolated” people in this group, there’s a wall between them and the others, and that wall is only slightly thinner between each other -- and you can even imagine that they’re willing to hang out with each other because they won’t be bothering that wall and causing intimidation.

And by the time we roll around to 02 episode 31, we learn that, this whole time, nothing has improved. Takeru sees that something is going on with Hikari, but does and says nothing -- perhaps because he’s not sure what to say, perhaps because he’s afraid of lashing out at her again, whatever it is -- but he can’t and won’t speak to her nor address her feelings.

In the end, the person who does establish that ability to “communicate” with Hikari is not Takeru but Miyako -- an aggressive, in-your-face, overly honest person who gets straight to the point and refuses to hold back, whose messy personality causes Hikari to become assertive in handling her and allows Hikari to finally vocalize one of her truly sensitive feelings, and who’s able to use her immense emotional sensitivity to identify what Hikari needs and break through to her.

But just because Miyako ended up being the person Hikari needs to move on past this issue does not mean Takeru’s role wasn’t important, nor that Miyako coming into Hikari’s life means that all of her relationships are inferior or pointless -- rather, a recurring element of 02′s portrayal of relationships is that everything has a ripple effect, and that “opening up” one person’s heart allows them to open up to others as well (see how Daisuke reaching out to Ken eventually helped him reach out to the others in the group, how even in this very same episode Miyako expresses that this experience helped her understand Ken better as well, how Daisuke’s experiences end up giving him a healthier relationship with the rest of the group, how Iori and Takeru’s Jogress ordeal helps them both become better at reaching out to Ken...). Unlike how they’d both closed off 02 episode 13, Hikari and Takeru end this one by talking -- with Hikari’s newfound confidence from her dealings with Miyako allowing her to more openly speak what she’s thinking with Takeru.

One thing you might notice is that after 02 episode 31, Takeru and Hikari are never seen going off on their own together for the rest of the series -- because, again, their “latching” onto hanging out with each other at the exclusion of anyone else was because they were that isolated from everyone else, but not anymore! Hikari starts to hang out more with Miyako as the two of them become more comfortable hanging out after the events of said episode; after all, Miyako had come to understand the real reason why Hikari “keeps so much inside” and that she needs to actively reach out to her, and Hikari is able to properly trust Miyako with her feelings, meaning that now that Hikari is starting to open up, she doesn’t need to fall back on her “truce” with Takeru to get by. Which ends up leaving Takeru rather alone for the following set of episodes. Well, seemingly alone, but...

...he’s not truly alone, because this is also where Iori realizes that there’s a lot more going on with Takeru and that he needs to make a proactive effort to understand him, and it doesn’t take long for Takeru to realize what Iori’s doing (especially when Yamato tips him off that Iori asked about him in 02 episode 35). Once again, very much unlike Hikari, Iori is straightforward and to-the-point, and is much better at cutting through all of the complicated layers Takeru puts up in an attempt to cover up his emotions.

The rest of the series has them in significantly more emotionally tense situations than before, and while the fact they end up spending the rest of the series with their respective Jogress partners instead of each other is partially sheer pragmatics, it’s also how the two of them start taking a more active role in actually checking on the others’ emotions and communicating with them in regards to their feelings. This is a huge deal -- compare this to back in 02 episode 13 when they were practically the only people willing to have this kind of serious, emotional conversation with each other -- and said attempt at a serious conversation exploded in their faces. (The other time one of them had made an attempt at something vaguely resembling a heart-to-heart during that time was 02 episode 11, which also resulted in Takeru blowing up explosively.) But here they’re capable of communicating clearly and openly and making their positions known in a way that gets through to their respective Jogress partners’ issues, without being stifled by anything.

But, again: just because they don’t “go off together” anymore doesn’t mean they stopped being important people to each other or comfortable around each other -- it’s just that now they’ve stopped wandering off together for the sake of blocking themselves away from others, and no longer trapped in this strange, paradoxical relationship of knowing-but-not-truly-knowing each other they had all the way back in 02 episode 13. The relationship they had back then was something built off of coping mechanisms, and not something you could truly say was healthy, not when their communication was stilted and Takeru had snapped at her so badly -- but both of them learning to open up more and be more honest with their feelings means that they may well have an actual healthy dynamic going forward.

And for all it’s worth, we learn that they’re still on very good terms by the time of Kizuna, getting breakfast together in the opening -- but it’s left ambiguous if their reason for doing so like this was because they still have a penchant for particularly hanging out together, or whether it was just circumstance because they were free to get breakfast after the Digimon incident (they act independently for the rest of the movie). Moreover, their relationships with the others in the 02 group are still going strong, because as per the drama CD, Takeru’s happy to hang out with Daisuke like it’s nothing and actively join in to reach out to Iori (it’s said Daisuke was approaching Iori “first” despite Takeru being there, so both of them were hanging out independently and decided to pick up Iori together), and Hikari comes in with Miyako, expressing a very firm intent to hang out with her for their trip, and ultimately it’s established that them not being with the rest of the group at the time of the movie was sheer scheduling circumstance and not necessarily them going out of their way to operate away from them.

So in other words, whatever relation you can say they have at this point, or their ability to get along, is not based on them falling back on each other as an unhealthy coping mechanism of silence, but one carried out in a more genuine manner.

[collecting-stories]

Body Electric - JJ Maybank

Request: Hi love , I have been feeling really insecure about my body lately and I was wondering if you could do a imagine were the reader compares herself to Sarah and kie when she gets in a fight with jj and the jj comforts her and just holds her while she cries into his arms ?!! ❤️❤️❤️

A/N: Inspired in part by Julia Michaels’ Body and by Walt Whitman’s I Sing the Body Electric.

Outer Banks Masterlist 

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

You knew that you had been awful lately. You couldn’t make any sort of excuse for it. There was no specific reason that you could give for the way you had been acting, or at least no reason that you would want JJ to hear. How could you tell him that lately you couldn’t stand going to the beach or out on the boat or even just to John B’s. That being around Kiara and Sarah was like forcing you to endure a never-ending loop of personal torture. Muttering in the back of your head, voices that kept getting louder and louder, comparing every inch of your body to them. And who could blame you, both of them were beautiful, it didn’t matter what they did, they always looked flawless.  

It was unfair, really, and you were being unfair to JJ in return. At this point you thought he probably thought that you hated him. It had been days since you’d seen him. Or anyone.  

When the familiar insecurities started up again, set off by nothing but Kiara pulling JJ over to dance with her during a party, you had tried to ignore. Tried to remind yourself that you were being a little crazy and that you were pretty and that, obviously, JJ liked you. He was dating you. But those voices never let you live. You imagined a million different ones, other people, to make you feel better. But it was never other people, it was just your voice.

Were the people in line behind you talking about you when you ordered a full fat latte at the coffee shop. Did the guy standing at the counter make that face because he hated his job or because he was trying not to laugh at how ridiculous you looked in shorts? Should you stop wearing shorts? And crop tops? And anything that drew attention to your body.  

At first you were just awful. You snapped at JJ all the time, you were mean every time he said something and every time you wanted to tell him that it wasn’t him, it was you. And you just needed to take it out on someone.

But then you started canceling plans. If you didn’t go out, if you no one had to see you, maybe that would be better.  

“Can we please just talk?” But JJ was persistent. You could yell at him a thousand times and he would keep coming back because he knew you. He knew something was bothering you and he was determined to figure out what it was.  

“We are talking.” You called back, turning your head to look at the door. You were laying on your bed, wishing you could be swallowed up into it.  

“You know what I mean.” He sighed, trying the door handle again. You had locked it and he knew it was locked but it was like watching the end of a movie over and over hoping that it changed. Maybe if he kept trying the outcome would be different. And he couldn’t help thinking that maybe all these problems could be solved if he could talk to you face to face.  

“I already told you I’m not going, just go away JJ.”  

“Look,” JJ had tried every other explanation but it always came back around to this one, “if you want to break up, that’s fine but, you shouldn’t punish everyone else. If you feel like you can’t hang out with them, I can stay away for a while.”  

“I don’t want to break up with you.” The lock clicked and the door opened. You stood there in sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt, as if they could distort the way you looked enough that everyone who saw you might forget.  “You should break up with me though.”  

“Why?” More genuinely curious than anything.

“Because,” you stressed the word like it explained every issue that you had with the situation. You walked back into your room but you didn’t shut the door and JJ followed you. “Because I saw the way you were dancing with Kie-”

“What are you talking about?”  

“At the party!” You snapped. “At the party, I saw you and you guys fit so well together you should be with someone like that.”

“I don’t...” JJ shook his head, trying to get himself from point A to point B and understand what you were even insinuating, “I mean, we dance together all the time.”

“That’s not the point!”

“I don’t know what the point is!” He snapped. “I don’t know what you’re trying to get at.”

“You should be dating some like Kie or Sarah...someone really pretty and...stop!” You pulled away from him when he tried to get close to you, holding your hand out. “We just don’t match.”

“Because you think you're not pretty?”  

“I know I’m not.”  

JJ shrugged, “well I know you are, so what are we gonna do about that?”  

“You don’t understand,” you attempted, better accuse him of not ‘getting’ what you were going through then have to admit that it was all just you, in your head, sabotaging yourself.  

“Maybe not exactly but, you think I don’t ever feel like that?” JJ replied, “fuck, I mean, every time you talk to Pope I feel that way.”

“It’s not the same.”  

“Yeah it is, we’re both being irrational.” He argued, “do you think I’m stupid?”

“No.”

“Would you rather date someone like Pope?”  

“No, JJ,-“

“Exactly.” He stressed, cutting you off. “I don’t wanna “I don’t wanna date Kie or Sarah or somebody who looks like them. I wanna date you. I like you. Can I?” He reaches his hand out for you hesitantly, cautious that you would just reject him again. But you nodded and he took that as sign enough to wrap his arms around you and hug you.  

“I just hate the way I look sometimes,” you admitted, voice a little muffled by his sweatshirt but not enough for him to miss the venom that laced through the word hate. Like you were expelling the actual feeling and not just saying the word.  

“For what it’s worth, I love you, and the way you look.” JJ replied, kissing the side of your head. “I love those jeans you have  that you always say are too tight on your thighs cause I wedge my hand in the holes and you always have the softest skin. Like when you stay over at the Chateau and we get the pull out, I love holding you. I love watching you surf cause you’re incredible at it, probably better than me but don’t tell anyone. Anything you wear, anything you do, I love it.”  

“You’re such a sap,” you laughed but JJ could see that familiar gleam in your eyes, the glassiness that only came when you were seconds from crying. “I needed it though.”  

“It doesn’t matter what I’m doing you know, you always have my attention.”  

You nodded, “you always have mine too you know.”

“Yeah well, that’s a given,” JJ teased, pulling away from you enough to guide you toward your bed. “I mean I’m pretty irresistible.”  

“I can’t argue with that,” you laughed, “what about the party though?”  

“Screw a party, we can have one of our own.”  

-

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[datawyrms]

Not As Such

For Phic Fight 2021! Using @dp-marvel94 ‘s lovely prompt. On AO3

Something was different with him. It had been for a while, and to his horror, Danny Fenton thinks he might have finally pinpointed it. He's felt off, strange, like his memories, his life, even his own body was foreign to him because....he might not be Danny Fenton at all.

It was the photographs that ruined his life. They were a reminder of some choking wrongness curled up in his chest, solidified it so it got harder and harder to dismiss. The occasional twitches of discomfort that rolled beneath his skin was ignorable, just a weird side effect of being half ghost. Rubbing at his arm, scratching at his hair and running his tongue over his teeth to count them over and over again were just signs of stress. Anxious people didn’t like to keep still, Jazz said all of the extra responsibly just weighed on him that way. Of course a stressed out teenager might be a bit jumpy, or grit and grind at the meaty thing in his mouth that he needed to speak. He always stopped once the foul coppery taint of blood warned him. A damaged tongue could still taste, and the dull pain didn’t really matter. No one else noticed. It was just a way to cope. Totally normal. Even if he felt somehow, it wasn’t. Enough to know not to bring it up. Sam and Tucker would be concerned about the flakes of skin scratched from his ears, or hair tugged free of his scalp, because he lost parts of himself. Bleeding into his own mouth was fine, he didn’t lose anything. The logic was shaky, but he had better things to worry about. Grades, fighting ghosts, hanging out with friends. The little times where he was a cold outsider stuck in the wrong shape always passed. He just had to pull it together and relax.

The photographs always unsettled him. He was not in the photographs. He never remembered any of the times or circumstances that they were taken. He was in them, Danny Fenton absolutely was in those photographs, but the blue eyes always seemed to be judging him. Accusing him. Asking ‘when was this taken, how did you feel’. New photos didn’t do this. The new photos were of him. He compared some from slightly before the accident to now, trying to see the difference, but he never could find a flaw. He used to be able to play it off, think it was just a strange intrusive thought until he actually really looked at the family photo album. Not a single one was familiar. The only ones he recognized, felt attached to were ones his family had mentioned, or talked about before. Second hand knowledge that ‘felt’ right in the moment, but seemed more like a disconnected farce when he tried so hard to find something familiar. A fishing trip, a picnic, hell he’d take a ‘first day of school’ photo at this point, but none of them triggered a familiar sensation or memory. Danny Fenton had been there, he’s there in the photo, so why can’t he feel anything about them? Why can’t he recall something that prompted the picture, what had been happening without guessing from what he can see in that little framed moment of the past? ‘Oh do you remember this?’ was a question he ignored until they clarified, explained more about the photograph so she could nod and say ‘yes’. Even if the answer was always ‘no’. The events sounded right, felt right when a living person told him, but left on his own with only a silent image? Nothing. He’d sound ridiculous if he said that out loud. So what if his memory wasn’t the greatest? He was still Danny. Their friend.

Who didn’t remember grade school. Who didn’t remember their history, their friendship. Of course he remembered how they met. After Sam and Tucker had spoken about it. He was lucky they talked so much, were open and caring while he was disoriented and ‘weird’. From the accident. Of course he was a bit slow on the uptake after playing human electric cable. He only noticed now how he never corrected them, or remembered something different. Tucker would often go ‘oh this reminds me of x’, and he never said that. As nothing really triggered that feeling, the recognition that was fun or amusing to his friends. Ignoring how ‘bad’ his memory was was taking a toll. Sliding a nail under the curve of his ear to scratch at the uneven mess of broken skin helped. He didn’t leave it alone long enough for it to properly heal, the different texture somewhat soothing. The layers and bumps were 'wrong', but only because he'd damaged it when it was whole and flat. It was still his ear, even if the outside was smooth as he hid the self inflicted damage. He was still Danny, just a bit different where no one could see. He had to be, he insisted. Fallen skin, a bit of blood, it wasn’t a big deal.

The photos knew he was a liar. More and more ended up face down, or ‘went missing’. He didn’t want to see the Danny Fenton that wasn’t him. He remembered his friends, he loved his parents (even if he didn’t love being threatened, but nobody’s perfect), and cared about doing well in school. He was still Danny Fenton. Not a ghost just...going along with what he heard and following social norms. You needed to do well in school to get a good job. What kind of job? Should he care? He didn’t know yet, he was young, that was fine. He always liked space, he didn’t just make that up. Didn’t just see how his room was decorated and accepted those were his interests. He didn’t like fighting ghosts as an escape from Danny Fenton’s life. He fought them to protect people, to make up for letting them out in the first place. The tension that eased in his ghost form had nothing to do with being a ‘different’ person. It had nothing to do with being a different face, one with no expectations set that he had not created himself. Danny Phantom was him, and always had been. Always would be. His gloves weren’t a problem, he never needed to scratch or pull or dig. He didn’t need to breathe, so he didn’t choke on the hissing voice in his mind that insisted he was an imposter.

Running away from a problem wasn’t too hard. Just exhausting. He had always been bad at math. Except Danny Fenton had not been bad at math. He had always done fairly well in school, As across the board, like Jazz. Fentons did not get C minuses. It was just being tired, just the ghost fighting that kept him from applying himself like before. There were hundreds of excuses, and everyone bought them. They made far more sense than something as ridiculous as ‘someone else is pretending to be Danny’. Except he spent time staring at questions, reading books that ‘built on fundamentals’ and still struggled. Fundamentals he had, had demonstrated he had, but had lost. Forget solving for ‘x’, he could barely muddle through a times table. ‘You should know this from previous years’ always made him ill. He didn’t know. He didn’t remember it. Danny Fenton knew, because he was the one who lived it. Denying it wasn’t working. Staring at himself in a mirror, trying to find some sign or quirk that felt familiar and purely human only made his veins hum in a furious frustration. Everything comforting, everything familiar was something true of his ghost form. A reflection, an inverted copy of a face that was his; but wasn’t. He should be alarmed, or concerned his anger was strong enough to turn those blue eyes green, but it only felt right that they did. Unnatural, glowing, inhuman. His real eyes to show his own emotion.

Ectoplasm and post human consciousness. That’s what ghosts were, according to his-yes his parents. So he should be fully, properly dead. Danny Fenton could be who he was, while alive. That would be easier. It didn’t explain why he felt nothing familiar about himself. If he was a post human version, why wasn’t there any of the human? Other than the beating heart, the heaving lungs and the smothering, crushing expectation of an identity he’d been expected to assume. One that he liked, at first until the cracks widened. As his discomfort grew and the evidence started making the cracks into chasms. The obvious flaws that everyone glossed over but clung to him like a leech, until there were so many that simply existing was too much to tolerate. He denied it so long that he no longer had a choice in the matter.

He genuinely loved Sam and Tucker, his best friends that always stuck by him, ghost troubles or not. The first people he’d seen, worried about him and trying to calm him from the jarring sensation of existing. So he had to be Danny Fenton. That’s who they thought they were talking to, thought they were helping out, and he’d latched on to that. He’d been confused, adrift and they’d given him a role to fill and a group to belong to. He had so many reasons to admire and like them, separate from who Danny was before. Things he had witnessed first hand, Sam’s willingness to go to bat for those who were pushed aside or considered inferior. How Tucker would throw aside his personal dislike and fears if someone he cared about was in danger, that he could and would put aside even his own jealousy just to be a pleasant person to spend time with. He didn’t need to know about before, or why they chose to be Danny’s friends. They would see it differently. That he had deceived them, pretended to be their friend- even if he truly thought of them as friends. Would they think he was a mockery of Danny Fenton? A creature that wanted to cause them pain and anguish by deception? He couldn’t tell them Danny Fenton was dead. He had to keep being who they expected him to be. They expected Danny to be in this body, and he was stuck in it. A part of it, but not the part his human friends would like. It would be so much easier if they suspected something was wrong. Then they might understand that he hadn’t meant to be lying. That he really did think he was the boy he saw in the mirror, at first.

Jazz noticed more. She knew Danny best, to be fair. Siblings, always under the same roof. Someone who always helped out when going to his parents wasn’t an option. Yet she mostly noticed his fidgeting, not the cause of it. Her ‘dorky little brother’. The one who liked to make spaceship models, but hadn’t so much as looked at one to wistfully hope for it. Not since the accident. They seemed fiddly and complicated, not an enjoyable way to pass the time. Still, that was chalked up to being a teenager with different priorities. Friends and school came first. She’d cover for him, try and help with ghost hunting even though she had avoided it before and generally was a helpful shoulder to lean on when hearing how much pain their parents wanted ghosts to be in. She would be crushed to know her brother, her first brother, the real one was gone. She might even deny it, assure him that it was all in his head, that she loved him even if on some days he just felt like a freak. That he was fine as he was. So he had to keep being Danny Fenton for her too. Even if the taste of blood wasn’t enough to make the unbearable itch stop anymore, that he’d taken to biting his knuckles until flesh broke. The red, thin blood was enough. Human, he just had to be a certain human. It wasn’t that hard. His body knew how to bleed.

Why had he let himself find the answer? Why did he look at those photos enough that he noticed the common thread of where his memory issues stopped? An answer he couldn’t use, couldn’t act on was worse than the baffling twinges and strange thoughts that boiled to the surface of his mind unbidden. Why did he feel heavy and weighed down in his own body, why did the sound of his heart jar him awake in the night like it was some foreign sound? Because it wasn’t his. He felt like he didn’t fit because he wasn’t meant to fit. He was ectoplasm twisted and shoved in an emptied vessel, a monster squirming in a meat puppet that was his- but also not. If he had just ignored it, kept taking it as just ‘ghost powers and humans don’t mix well’ he wouldn’t be sitting here, desperately wishing he could claw free of himself- of Danny without ruining everything for everyone he cared about. One desperate thought was that he was a ghost, fully and entirely. A spirit in a bad place at a bad time, just unlucky. That he could figure out a way to separate himself from this human life he’d stolen by mistake. Except he had no memory of being a ghost either. The Ghost Zone was new and terrifying territory. He genuinely struggled to grasp how to use his powers, and didn’t have a helpful family like he did as a human, people that could remind him how legs worked. Didn’t have people he could mimic and follow enough that it felt natural after the fog of confusion after his accident faded. If he’d woken up on the other side, would he still be like this? Thinking he was a ghost, had always been one until suddenly gaining a weird human side? The Ghost Catcher didn’t work because there was no Danny Fenton to split from. It just skewed aspects of himself. The thing left behind would be no more Fenton than he was, and he doubted either would live long. He was still half human, in body at least. Just not the human they expected, or wanted. A new thing, created in that portal with feet in two worlds he didn’t understand. He didn’t want to be a new thing, he wanted to be the old thing, but he hated being the old thing. He had to keep everyone happy, he couldn’t branch out or act differently, that would be wrong. He owed it to Danny Fenton to live like he would have. He stole his life and gave his family and friends a false hope, he could hardly take it back now. Realized too late, far too late. So he pretended. Noticed how he could pick things up of how he should be when people talked, felt the sickly squirm inside as he lied about remembering, or nodded along. How he could almost sense how people were feeling and follow their lead. A ghost thing? A human thing? A freak thing? He didn’t know how, he just knew once he was alone he wanted to throttle that feeling until it died, and only another pain seemed to lessen it. It was fine. Chapped lips were common enough, it wasn’t a sign that he kept biting them open. Humans didn’t heal that quickly.

 He wasn’t fine. He’d never be fine. Everyone he loved would despise him if he ever slipped up, if they knew the truth. His mom and dad were proof of it. They hated him, completely and utterly. Which they should, he’d stolen their son’s body. Not that they knew that. They didn’t really know they had another son. They made the portal. They looked after him, fed him, said they loved him while he was Danny Fenton. He couldn’t exist without them, it still felt right to call them Mom and Dad, even if he wasn’t a proper Fenton. Maybe on some level they did know. Maybe that’s why they hated Danny Phantom so much, recognized him as the thing that set off their devices and weaponry. Phantom was him, had never been something before he existed. He could feel comfortable in that form, and somehow they could feel it and despised him for it. The monster pretending to be their child daring to feel unrestricted and at ease. Jazz would call him delusional. She would probably be right, if he was Danny Fenton. Which he wasn’t. That was the entire problem. Just crack a smile, remember what he was meant to like and forget it. He owes them. Everything. He can handle it, even if he wants to grab his friends by the shoulders and tell them to really look at him, and stop seeing who they want to see. Who he wants them to see; for their own sake. He half expects the lie curled under his rib cage to fling it open one day in a gory splatter of ‘justice’, but it is content to stay still and remind him with every stolen breath who he isn’t.

 Jazz catches him ‘managing’. She thinks the wounds are for a fight, and he goes along with it. Danny Fenton wasn’t some animal that needed to claw out of his own skin to repent for the constant lies he tells the people he loves. All he needs to do is go along, like always. Maybe fight a bit sloppier next time, take a few more blows. He just wants to move on, live as himself, but can’t. He never can. He probably isn’t all that different from Danny Fenton anyway, but unless they know it isn’t genuine. There’s always the chance he’s acting, pretending to be a dead kid. He can’t tell what feelings are his if he learned how he felt about things second hand, if he hadn’t been doing anything but trying to ‘get back to normal’. Was his ‘favourite food’ his favourite because he genuinely enjoyed the taste? Or was it because someone told him it was, so he deluded himself into agreeing? He slips up.

“I’m so tired of lying, Jazz.”

His sister is thrilled that he’s opened up, even as he bites his lip and wishes he could take those words back. Can he spin it back into a joke, or something less important?

“Danny, I know you’re worried. If it’s stressing you out this much, you should tell them.” Her hand on his shoulder is warm, her tone is encouraging.

She means Mom and Dad. She thinks he means the other secret. The secret that isn't. Yet telling one is impossible. It’s too much as it is. Adding them to the list of those tricked about his nature- it makes the blood in his body feel like phlegm. “I can’t, Jazz. They hate me, remember?” Playing it off, but he’s slipping again. He knows the ‘truth’. They accept Danny Fenton. Which is why they can’t know.

“Danny, you know they don’t hate you. They just need to understand they’re wrong about you.” A weary smile, her hand still in place. “The sooner they know, the sooner they’ll stop saying those kinds of things. And the sooner I can tell them off properly!”

“No- Jazz, they hate me. They’re pretty loud about that.” He doesn’t know why he’s trying to convince her. He just needs to back away, say he’ll think about it and leave it. Now he can’t with how she crouches down a little to look into his eyes, instead of his red and angry knuckles.

“They love you just as much. Hiding from them isn’t helping you, you’re jumpier than a jackrabbit every day. I don’t want you here while I’m off at University feeling like everyone in the house hates you, okay?”

She’s begging for him to let her help. Wanting what’s best for him. As she doesn’t know she isn’t talking to her brother of fourteen years. His tongue bleeds, but the guilt doesn’t lessen. “There’s nothing I can tell them.” She doesn't catch how his words slur slightly.

“What? Danny, just tell them you’re their son. I’ll help you, oaky? You’ll feel so much better not needing to hide anymore.”

He probably would feel better. Every bit of him longed for it, but knew he couldn’t in equal measure. “I can’t tell them that.” He doesn’t want to tell that lie, to double down on it. Their absolute hatred of him is warranted- he can’t steal that from them with another lie.

She rolls her eyes. Like he’s being a fool. “Of course you can! If the lies are stressing you out, you can tell them the truth.”

She doesn’t understand. It’s easier to slip away by going intangible so she can’t keep her hand on his shoulder. The comfort feels unearned. “They wouldn’t like the truth.” No one would. Besides him. He’d be free of the burden of his ‘human form’. The body he took to exist with. Not that he’d probably last long once Mom and Dad knew. They’d properly hate him in both forms, not just the one he was comfortable in.

“They’d be thrilled to know you’re a ghost hunter like them, you know that. Seriously, what’s wrong? You look pale.”

“I’m always pale.” He can’t answer that question. He’s wrong, everything’s wrong. He wants to spit, but he has to choke the blood down instead. She was just trying to help. Stay calm, stop talking.

“No, this is little brother is being weird pale. Did something happen? Why do you think they’ll hate you now?”

She won’t believe him anyway. “Uh. Being told how much they hate Danny Phantom will do that to a guy.”

“All the more reason to make them stop, you just need to tell them Fenton and Phantom are the same person.”

“And what if we weren't?” He isn’t thinking. He’s covering his mouth, too late for it to matter. Yet so many muscles relax once it’s out. The weight on his back shrugged off by even posing the question. A question he shouldn't be posing, one she’ll disregard, but the moment of freedom is nice.

Her eyes are too serious as she looks at him, a quick scan up and down. To check if he’s joking? Does she see how ‘the truth set him free’ there? A corny saying, but he can admit it feels better than the snarling smothering force jabbing at his heart. “But you are?”

Not a statement. A question. All he has to do is laugh and lie again. So why- “No. I don’t think I am.”

[oftenderweapons]

Stress Reliever - Jungkook

Pairing: Jungkook x reader (nicknamed Candy)

Wordcount: 5.3k words

Genre: mild angst, smut, romance

Rating: 18+

Hi everyone! It’s the final scenario of Stress Reliever and this time it’s the Golden Maknae!!!

I bet you’re all excited to see what is he going to do to release some frustration with his s/o. Don’t expect him to go easy.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: angst-smut-fluff (the profane trinity) jealousy and mild angst at the beginning, s/o has a mild age kink and JK is not exactly okay with this. Big fat degradation kink and well... yeah. Unprotected sex within an established relationship (please, be careful!!!), edging, wall sex (yk....,.,..,,,,), kinda hard dom JK but not really? So much dirty talking my keyboard is burning and I had do erase my browsing history, oral (female receiving), ass, tiddies and pussy spanking (ups), anddddd likeeeee,.,.,.,,,,,,..... voyeurism. BUt most importantly PraISe KinNnNNNKKKKkkkkK I’m sorry this one is so bad I have no excuses, I’m a slut for praise kink, please it’s so bad I melt every time someone calls me baby and good girl even in a non sexual context and it’s so embarrassing I’m gonna explode byeeeeee-----

Here is my masterlist ❤

Wordcount: 5.3k, unedited. Enjoy!

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“God, he’s so hot.”

Jeongguk ignored whatever it was that you were talking about on the phone with your best friend. It wasn’t his business anyway. 

Both you and the voice on the phone giggled. You were probably talking about some film or something. “Bet he could go for hours.”

Jeongguk tutted at that, his snack almost ready in the microwave, hoping he’d be able to leave the kitchen as soon as possible. 

“Yeah, I have Googie, and I would never make a move on anyone else, but what’s wrong with innocently commenting on some older dude? He’s absolutely daddy material, let me fantasise a little about that.” Again you giggled. 

Jeongguk frowned at that. He wished he didn’t have to listen. He felt guilty since you thought he wasn’t in the room. 

“Koo is wonderful. A dream, truly. Still I love me a tough, mature man, at least in my imagination, every now and then.” You sounded coy. 

Really? Jeongguk’s frown intensified. He felt like he didn’t want a snack anymore at this point. Like he wanted another kind of snack.

“And I love Koo. Don’t forget that.” You continued.

He cocked his head to the side and nodded at that. That was a good sign. 

“Still… Damn, look at him. He’s in his forties and looks like a sex god.” You commented about the male lead actor. 

Jeongguk snorted and huffed at that. One more minute, he considered, watching the timer of the microwave.

“No. Listen. Consider this. He’s the kind of man who can lead. You can tell. How could he be eager and impatient? He knows good things take time. That’s the thing about older men. Maturity. Experience. They know they need to take their sweet time. That was the only good thing about my ex. You know it.” Your voice was plain, almost neutral as you said this. Matter-of-factly. 

Jeongguk was sick of this by now. Did you think he was too eager? Too impatient? Too young and naive? That he couldn’t lead you? That he couldn’t take his sweet time?

Well, now he was in a mood and he had each and every intention to take it out on you. He propped himself against the entrance of the living room, waiting for you to notice him. 

Unfortunately for you, you continued your conversation. 

“Yeah, sometimes Koo has his teenage shenanigans. Tantrums and shit. But he’s my boy.” You confessed, voice slightly lower. “Still… Yeah, sometimes I think ‘what if…’”

What if what? He cleared his throat. 

You lifted your head and finally spotted him. Your mouth opened, and so did your eyes, wide like saucers. 

“Get off the phone.” He growled. 

You closed your mouth. “Gotta go.”

“He’s there, isn’t he?” Your friend asked. 

You nodded, then, realising you needed to verbalise, you whispered a little ‘yes’. 

Your friend wished you good luck before disconnecting the call. You put your phone down.

“Need to tell me anything?” Jeongguk asked, arms crossed and tattoos showing. You spotted the almost invisible initial of your name hidden in one of the black swirls of ink. 

“It was nothing serious. Just gossip.” You defended yourself. 

“Teenage shenanigans. Tantrums.” He recalled. “Guess this is one of those.” He accused. 

“It’s… not like that?” You tried finding an apology, realising how cliché it sounded only the moment it left your mouth. 

He moved closer, expression dark and upset. “How do you want to solve this?”

You bit your lip. “However you want to.” You were testing the waters, seeing what his mood was. 

“Then stand up.” He ordered. 

You blinked a couple times before following his direction. “Koo?”

“No talking.” he replied. “You already said enough.” He threw you over his shoulder, exasperated at your scene. 

You squealed and huffed in surprise. “Jeongguk!”

“Quiet.” He secured with his arm, landing a loud spank on your ass. 

Again you squealed. “What are you–”

“Can’t you understand ‘no talking’? I thought an experienced girl like you had to be smarter than this.” His anger was beginning to show and you were actually somewhere between turned on and scared. You had seen him sweet and enamoured and insecure and upset, but rarely truly angry. 

“Sorry.” You murmured softly as his steps made you wobble against his back. He was carrying you to bed. For sure. 

A few seconds later you recognised your bedroom, and you felt your body being thrown down, landing on the mattress. In a blink you found Jeongguk’s heavy body on top of yours, his mouth at your ear. “Am I not good enough for you?” He teased. 

“You know I love it.” You replied shyly. 

“You love the sex. But am I good enough for you?” He asked again. 

“Yes. Yes, you are, Koo.” You answered firmly. 

“Let’s see if you hate it so much. Sex with this eager, impatient, younger boy.” He provoked. He was moving so fast. He was moving lightning-fast, one moment he was fully dressed and the following he was shirtless and attacking your own clothes, unbuttoning your jeans, tugging at them and taking them off of you. “Bet you’re already drenched. You were so thirsting after that old man.” He threw your jeans behind him, somewhere off the bed. 

“I only want you, and you know it.” You bit back. 

“Stop lying.” He warned. He took off your shirt with angry pulls, almost ripping it, your body collaborating in fear he would hurt you in the process. “You fantasise.” He reminded you. 

No, you don’t. Not willingly, at least. Of course, you’re an adult woman and you’re free of thinking whatever you want. Of course if you see a charming man, you might think of him sexually. But that doesn’t mean you’re not satisfied with what you have. That you would give up your boyfriend for a fantasy. 

“Koo, you’re the only man I want to fuck.” You reassured him, putting your hands around his face, trying to calm him down. 

“So I’m a man now? Not a boy anymore?” he asked, unlatching your bra. 

“You’re always my man to me, you know it.” You hoped the sight of your breasts would make him sway a little. 

It didn’t.

“You called me your boy. Just back then, on the phone.” He bared you with frustrated tugs and pulls. 

“Am I not your girl?” You asked, touching him on his chest, his shoulders, his neck. Anything to express your need for him. 

“Not like I’m patronizing you.” He turned you around, smacking your ass again as he removed your panties, baring your behind. “So fucking condescending.”

You bit your lip, now profoundly sorry for the way you had treated him. “I said some very dumb things, Jeongguk, and I apologise.”

“Good. Now let me prove my point.” He agreed. 

“Want to fuck me good?” You asked, incapable of hiding your arousal. 

“You were talking so much shit that I think you’ve forgotten what this is about.” Another smack. 

Once more you found yourself lying on your back, your naked body now bare to his stare. His pants were tented at the front, the outline of his cock so delicious, thick and half hard. 

“Love, please.” Your hands moved to his waistline, reaching for his sex. 

“Oh, no. I’m taking my sweet time, ____. Starting from here.” He bent down and pressed a hard kiss to your lips, making you moan and whimper before his own mouth opened, his tongue disturbingly sensual and heavy in his assault to your mouth. You were now eager and impatient, while he took everything deliriously, deliberately slowly. “What next? Do you want your nipples licked?” He murmured.

You only nodded, your chest already feeling heavier and oversensitive. 

“Oh, no. That’s for boys. Boys latch onto their mommy’s tits. Men don’t do that, do they?” He replied, grabbing your breast aggressively, parting from your mouth before delivering a quick slap on the skin there. 

You barked out in pain, the sensation not unpleasant but rather surprising. 

“You like it?” He waited for your nod before repeating the gesture. “Is it how a real man would do this?” He asked. 

“Want your mouth, Googie.” You begged. 

“Googie… Ridiculous. Even in bed you treat me like a child.” He hit you again, this time harder. “Can’t take me seriously, can you?”

You were already on the verge of begging. 

“Such a lame show.” He let his hand venture down to your navel, down to your mound, and dive between your thighs. “Tell me, what is it that made you wet?”

You whined at the sensation of his fingertips there, incoherent babbling leaving your mouth. 

“Answer me, babe.” He urged.

Your eyes went wide at the word. He was using every single one of your earlier mistakes against you. Reminding you exactly what you’ve done wrong, but also showing you everything that had hurt him.

“You made me wet.” You informed him. 

“Me slapping your tits?” He snickered darkly.

“You wanting me. You looking always so fucking hot. You giving me everything I need. You being everything I’ll ever need.”

His eyes turned into cold slits. “You sure know how to sweet talk your ass out of problems, don’t you?” He cupped your heat, at which you parted your legs to invite him to make himself comfortable there, to give you his attention. In response he lifted his hand, only to let it land harshly on you. You screamed. Pleasure. Echoing through your veins. Running like wildfire inside your limbs and finally concentrating in your lower belly. “That might work with your boys. Remember? I’m your man tonight. And you’re in trouble, you silly, silly girl.”

Your first reaction was to fill your lungs with some fresh air, before writhing against his grip, the sheets burning your skin. "Jeongguk." 

"Yes?" He replied, looking you in the eye as his palm brushed against you. 

"I wanna be yours." 

"You want this impatient boy?" He asked, the muscles of his jaw tense. 

You tried kissing him, only brushing your lips against his. “I need you, Jeongguk. All of you. Now.”

“Don’t you want me to take my time?” He asked, slowly, oh-so-slowly, caressing your sex. “Don’t you want me to make you wet? Get you all ready and messy?”

“I love my impatient boy. And my meticulous man.” Your lips left a butterfly kiss just shy of his mouth, eyes closing. 

“Tell me how you want me.” He groaned. 

“However you want, Koo. You’re always so good.” Your hips pushed harder against his digits. “Do your best.”

“Then let me show you I’m always the best.” He murmured, his breath fanning over your face. He was laying on his side, hand still dipped between your thighs. He got rid of his sweatpants quickly, his underwear coming off in the same movement. You couldn’t help but watch, eyes entranced to the beauty of his nakedness. You could stare at him for hours. Unfortunately, he had other plans. 

Standing up from the bed he circled around it, looking at you like you were his prey, his prize. 

“Sit.” He ordered, pointing at the edge of the bed, right in front of where he was standing. Of course you were going to obey. His chiselled body was right there, for you to watch, touch and worship, your mouth just in front of his navel. His sex looked awfully flush, tip red with excitement, beaded in precum. You wanted a taste; however the palm reaching for him was stopped by his wrist. “My rules, brat.”

You inhaled sharply while he bent down, securing your legs around his waist. “Hold on tight, ____. Not gonna say it twice.” and with that he picked you up, like you weighted nothing.

Your arms snaked around his neck, legs tightening at his waist, crossing behind his back. 

“First here. Then we’ll see.” And with that he placed you against the wall, his mouth joining your neck, placing sloppy kisses and licks. “Do you want me to mark you or is it too childish?” He growled hard behind your ear. 

“Bite me, mark me, do whatever you want, I just need you inside, Koo.” You moaned, trying to lure him in. 

“Such a needy slut, uh?” He whispered at your ear. “This what you want?” And with that he pinned you hard against the wall, one hand guiding himself at your entrance and sliding into you in one smooth stroke, perfectly hitting your sweet spot at the first go. 

The small humming sound that rumbled in your throat found its twin on his lips. 

“I said, is this what you want, slut?” He teased you again. 

“Yes, Koo.” You muttered, only half coherent. 

He snickered. “Great.” Placing his hands on your ass, helping you up, he pulled out of you, his tip almost slipping out before entering again in full force. “That feels nice, doesn’t it?”

You murmured in confirmation, pressing harder against him. It was different from usual. He was thrusting in slower and deeper, enjoying your tightness, his eyes closed, his hair falling forward as he pushed into you. 

“So tight, baby, how come you’re still so fucking tight?”

“God, you’re so big.” One of your hands moved to his behind, grabbing his ass, groping it, enjoying the flashing of his muscles. His forehead fell on your shoulder, mouth wild on every single inch of your skin he met. 

“Like it?” He picked up the rhythm, just slightly, spurred by your moans and your dishevelled expression. Your bum kept hitting the wall, the thumping now obvious and obscene. 

“Harder.” You begged. 

“Dirty mess.” He giggled at your ear, looking at you and kissing you until you were breathless and your head was spinning. He parted from your lips and stared into your eyes, intensity pouring out of his obsidian stare. “Want more?”

“I need you to touch me there, love, please.” You asked, eyes closing as you implored. 

“Not yet, baby.” His pace was delirious by now, his legs growing tired but headstrong on reaching his orgasm. 

“Please, Jeongguk.” You whined, digging your heels in his back. 

“No can do, sweet thing. Now shut up.” And with that he rammed inside, using your upper back to keep you on the wall as his arms pushed and pulled your hips, fucking you onto him. “Grown men take what they want, don’t they?” He bit into your collarbone and let his mouth open wide, howling in pleasure, his cum filling you up. 

You were hanging on the verge of sanity. “Koo, no, please.”

He was leaning heavily in your arms, your body hanging like a picture from the wall. “That was so fucking good, ____.”

“Koo, please.” You cried out.

“You wanna cum, baby?” He teased. “Want me to make you cum, slut?” He bit your cheek playfully. “Take it to bed? D’you want that?”

Your body tensed again for his not-so-kind nickname. “Yeah, Koo.” You whined. 

“Good.” Little did you know that half a minute later he would still be inside you, sitting you on the soft headboard of the bed. He moved out of you, spinning you around and placing you bottom-up bent over the soft material of the board. “Be a good girl for me. Man, look at that ass. So hot, baby.” He slapped it playfully. “You ready baby?”

“What are you doing?” You asked, your ass up, your legs slightly dangling from the headboard as the tips of your toes brushed the floor, your stomach pressed against the dark leather. You tried shifting your weight to your arms, but Jeongguk trapped one of them behind your back. 

“You can use one to hold yourself up. No more than that, bitch.”

His filthy mouth made your blood feel inebriated, almost like being tipsy. 

Your hips were conveniently exposed, his mouth immediately identifying its target as he crouched down and started rubbing his lips against your sex. “Good?”

“Yes, yes. Yes...” You whispered, still chasing the high he had taken from you earlier. 

“Want me to make you cum?” He asked.

“Please.” You whined. 

“Such a cock hungry little thing.” He let his tongue loll out, the tip going to your front, rubbing against your clit. He kissed the skin there before speaking into your skin: “Be good.”

His tongue slipped inside you, licking away his seed, then spitting it out all over your slit, lubricating you again. “Can you cum without my fingers on your clit, baby? Can you come for an impatient boy licking you?” He bit into the curve your ass. 

“Jeongguk, I’m sorry. Please.” You implored.

“You consider yourself a woman when all you truly want is for me to turn you into my little girl.” He kissed the side of your thigh, his right hand heavily palming and groping your ass. By now you felt like bursting at the seems, arousal coming off your limbs in waves. Jeongguk, buried between your legs, took your salty scent in, delivering small bites to your labia and sucking your clit viciously. 

You only needed more pressure. 

“Come on, slut, cum for me so I can get inside you again.” He teased, repositioning you with his spare hand and now adding more strength to the movements of his tongue. 

The change was immediate. You could feel it in your belly. “Koo, I’m—” next thing that left your mouth was a long scream, rattling your bones, resetting you entirely. 

“That’s a good girl.” He said in the most patronising, condescending and sarcastic tone he could muster. You felt your lungs ignite. “Are you gonna stay still now after you got what you wanted? Let me fuck that need for older men out of you?”

He was angry again. He was angry still. 

“I said dumb stuff.”

“‘Cause you’re a little dumb doll, aren’t you?” His voice came from somewhere behind you, above you. You turned to search for his face but he used his big hand to press your face against the pillow below you. “Dumb, disobedient doll. Stay put.”

You closed your eyes and tried to press your behind to his pelvis. “I’m begging. Jeongguk. I love you.”

“Oh, so you love me now.” His length lingering on your entrance suddenly slammed into you. “You love me?”

“Yes!” You screamed, hoping that the walls would keep your sounds inside the room.

His hand pinned both of your wrists behind your back. “More than your ex?”

“Yes! I’ve never loved anyone like you, Koo.” You mewled, desperate.

"Has he ever fucked you this good?" He grunted, bending down to your ear. 

"No Jeongguk, I swear. You're the best."

"That’s right. I'm the fucking best." He rammed into you recklessly, his head falling forward as he stood and helped your hips back, the tip of your feet now pressed more steadily against the floor, removing some pressure from your abdomen.

He probably didn't even realise that the position was getting uncomfortable, and you were grateful for the shift, even if it made his thrusts deeper and more difficult to resist. 

“How can you want it calm and patient when you love being my fuckdoll, uh?” He pulled out and smacked your ass hard, then plunging in again. “When you need a young—” thrust— “inexperienced—” thrust—“impatient little boy—” thrust— “to fuck your brains out?”

You moaned and pushed yourself toward him, the sound of your flesh squelching and smacking echoing in the room. 

His hand climbed around your waist, dipping down your navel and meeting the apex of your labia. “Did your ex ever fuck you like this?”

“No Jeongguk.” You replied meekly. 

“Did he ever make you cum like this?” He asked, torturing you with his devious fingers. 

“No, Jeongguk.”

“Did he ever make you speechless with his cock?” He growled, sinking into you and shifting his hips to push small little circles deep against your cervix. 

“No…” you hummed, barely responsive.

“You’re gonna cum so good on my cock, doll. You’re gonna be a slut for it, drool on it for the rest of your life.” He swore, filthy and almost unconscious. 

Were you more coherent, you would have realised how fucked out he was, but unfortunately you were twice as gone as him and in no time your mouth formed his name in a strangled breath before your body twitched around him, your hands gripping on your forearms, still in the position he’d put you in even though his grip was no longer controlling you. 

“Cumming on my dick. Such a dumb little girl for it, uh?” He provoked you, even though your mind was miles high, seeing stars dance in your peripheral. “Take it all. Enjoy it. It’s the only one you’re gonna get, slut.”

And with that he grabbed hold of your hips and started bouncing your bum against his crotch, hammering into you, lasting only a minute before grunting your name and growling against your spine, falling forward and then snapping back, head bent away from you as he used you as his personal toy. 

When you felt him stop you dared turn around. He was magnificent. 

Hair plastered to his forehead, face and torso glimmering with sweat, the veins of his arms popping out like highways under his skin. 

“Koo.” You murmured, looking for your boy, your comfort, your safe place. 

“Only a second, sweetheart.” He exhaled, his skin blushing with exertion. “I know I can get another one, just give me time, baby.”

“Koo, I—“ You objected, but he stopped you.

“It’s not you. It’s me. I want it.” He warned with a stern tone. “Don’t you dare think this is about you, doll. Can you choose where you want it or are you too fucked out for that?”

Jeongguk helped you up and pulled you to his chest, the pose half affectionate and half controlling. “You know me best. I know you’ll choose what is best for me.” You whined in an attempt of flattery — even though it was absolutely true. He does know you best. You know he will always choose what’s best for you because he loves you. He adores you. 

He carefully drew out of you, kissing your spine delicately. You still had to understand what was his current mood. “Turn around.”

You obeyed, your eyes naturally focusing on his chest, right in front of your face. He pinched your neck and turned your head upwards, toward his awaiting gaze. You knew there were many things he was trying to say right in that moment with nothing but a glance. You knew how the words got stuck in his throat and how they would stumble and shake before falling from his lips, how they would sound tiny and hurt and heartbroken, but also fond and fiery and faithful. 

You knew all his favourite words, the ones he spoke so little, the ones he kept closer to his heart in fear that their power would diminish once they finally made it out.

He kissed you one, two, five, ten, twenty times, small pecks and butterfly kisses, Eskimo kisses with the tip of his lovely nose, and wet, sloppy kisses on your neck. He combed your dishevelled hair and kissed it too, then your hands, then your wrists and then your eyelids. Your forehead and your brow, the tender skin behind your ear, the softness of your cheeks. 

Picking you up, he kissed you again, his mouth possessing yours, lost in the tenderness and passion of you. You felt like a small boat in a wide, calm sea, nothing but the horizon all around you, his waves lulling you, his voice and his lips leading you towards a safe haven, surrounded in peace. 

“I love you, Googie.” You breathed softly against his open mouth. 

“Let me show you.” He replied, again carrying you exactly where he wanted. 

Your walk in closet was enormous, with wide wardrobes along the walls, a couple mirrors multiplying the images of you and him. 

“Here.” He said, placing you on the comfy seat in the middle of the small room.

In here he would see your every angle and reaction. There would be no escape from the blatant ruination he would unleash over your body. 

His hand was already cupping his sex, palming and pumping it as he used his other arm to pry your legs open, his head sinking there. He bit into the skin of your thighs, sucking and kissing with a hunger you had never thought existed. His favour stopped just shy of your entrance, watching as his release spilled and stained your skin. 

“Amazing.” He murmured reverently, leaning into your knee as if he was on the verge of sanity and you were the only thing pinning him to reality. “Tell me I’m the only one you want.”

“You’re the only one I want. The only one I love.” You wasted no time as you comforted him, giving him that safety net he so desperately craved.

“Tell me you won’t leave me,” he begged, closing his eyes as if the thought caused him physical pain. 

“I’ll be by your side, always.” You promised, caressing his hair. 

“Look,” he pointed to the mirror on your side, to your seated figure and his kneeling one. 

“Koo. Are you ready? I need you so bad.” You whined, your eyes leaving the reflection only as you ended your request.

“Want you on your knees, belly on the seat.”

He gave you the space to manoeuvre down from the seat, on your knees, right as he wanted you.

“Look straight ahead, doll. Look at that.” He teased, his hand pointing towards the mirror in front of you. “Look at your tits pressed up against the seat. They’re so soft… They must be so fucking sensitive by now.” His hand stroking himself dragged his tip against your skin, moistening you evenly as he got ready once more. 

“I’ve neglected them today.” He caressed your back and kissed your neck. “I’ll take good care of them tomorrow morning. Would you like that?” He asked, mischievous. 

“Yes, Koo.” God, you weren’t even sure you knew other words by now, so possessed by your need for him. 

He put just the head of his cock inside you, enjoying the immediate fluttering of your insides. “Want more, doll.”

With a humming, senseless groan you backed your ass into his groin. 

He snickered sarcastically. “Fuckdoll.”

You felt every inch of him enter you, violating your flesh. 

“That’s it. I’m gonna ruin you.” Jeongguk growled visciously as he bottomed out. 

“Please.” You moaned as you looked at his face from the reflection in the mirror. He was using his hand to press against your lower back.

“Taking me so well, slut. So hungry for it.” He was lost in the reflection too, moving slow and deep. 

“Only for you.” You whined, praising him. 

“No one can do it like us. No one.” He twisted your head to the side, the other mirror welcoming you. “There’s no one else for us.”

God, he was wordy today. You were basking in it. You loved how he wanted you to see, to hear everything. He was often wild but shy and today was truly exceptional for many reasons. “Googie, touch me, I’m getting close, please.”

“You keep saying please, baby. So polite today, uh? Might have to fuck you like this more often.” He provoked you. 

“Look how fucked out you are, doll.” He snorted. “You’re so hot.” He keened.

You watched the way his muscles moved, his pecs flexing and relaxing as he dragged your hips along his shaft. “No one can get you this hot.”

“No.” You whined out, desperate for more, for anything, for everything he was willing to give you. 

“You’re a slut for me alone, uh?” He smacked your ass once more, pulling out of you entirely and slapping his length over your soft backside. “Dirty fuckdoll.”

“I’m your toy, Koo. Use me.” You pleaded, searching for him with your hands, needing him close, closer, melted into you. “Please.”

“How can I say no to my needy slut.” He giggled before changing his angle, his arm infiltrating beneath your torso, between your breasts, towards your neck.

His other hand slithered to your front, his thrusts more subdued now that his leverage was weaker between your thighs and against your collarbone. The slow-down however helped you focus on your clit, on his fingers there on the way he was touching you in that “I’m not playing, you’d better cum in the next two minutes” mood. 

“You’re getting tighter, doll. D’you like my hand so much?” He teased with an accusing tone. “You must be close, mh?”

“So close, Koo.” You chirped.

“Come on, then.” His thrusts slowed even more, making you feel full to the brim and once they paired with his fingers you found yourself coming apart. 

“Yeah, babe. So fucking tight. Cum for me.” He spoke on your skin, body completely twisted and twined with yours. His tongue ran against your spine, his throat producing small, deep grunts as his pleasure exploded and spilled inside you. “Yes, doll. Fuck babe. Amazing.” He howled, arching into you, sticking to you like a second skin. 

“You look so damn lovely, doll. I love you so fucking much.” He whispered, heavy at your back, his hips stilling. “I bet nobody’s ever fucked you like this.”

“No.” You confirmed. “Nobody has. Nobody ever will.” You pressed a kiss to his hand, close to your face and cupping your cheek. 

As if coming back from a trance, he batted his lashes intensely, kissing your face. “Did I hurt you?”

“No, Googie. It was… incredibly hot. Definitely on your top three best performances. I will definitely write this day down on the calendar. We can celebrate it like an anniversary.”

“Hot fuck in the closet day.” He murmured, half asleep on top of you. “I like that.”

You smiled. “Can we get to bed? My knees are a bit sore. Actually I’m a bit sore all over.”

He nodded, waiting a couple seconds before parting from you and helping you up, carrying you to the bathroom and cleaning you up silently, taking care of you before dropping both of your heavy bodies on the bed. 

“I said ugly stuff.” He confessed. 

“I did too.” You admitted. “You know, I might think that older men are charming, but that’s as far as it goes. And I might have said stuff about my ex, but hey, there are multiple reasons why he’s my ex.” You caressed his face and kissed his hair as he laid his head on your chest. “And I’m here with you. No charming old man, no patient ex will ever change the fact that I love you.” You reassured him. “That you’re a dream come true.” You held his hand and intertwined your fingers. 

“I just… I’m always afraid of the things I can’t give you.” He whispered, insecure. As if he hadn’t given you his everything… 

“I will love you for all the things you can give me, Googie. And we will learn to compromise about the things we can’t give each other. That’s how it works.” You brought his hand to your lips, pressing them against every inch of it. 

“I’m sorry about the bad words.” He said with big doe eyes, lined with silvery tears. “I hope I didn’t insult you or upset you.”

“Would you worry if I said I liked that a bit?” You looked into his eyes tenderly, trying to dissolve his shyness. “But I hurt you with my words, so I want to know now.”

Your conversation went on for almost half an hour, his body warm and comfortable next to yours, the feeling of safety encouraging him to bare himself, showing you his darkest, most vulnerable sides.

By the end of the afternoon you both felt loved and appreciated, cared for and adored. With his head heavy on your chest, your heartbeat playing in his ear, Jeongguk realised you would always be his one.

[geordiewrites]

Hey i just read exile inspired fic and it is soo good. I think you should write one based on the song tolerate it by ts? With harry plz. The drama, fight, tears.. I think you will reflect the emotion so well omg.

Tolerate It | Harry Potter

A/N: Hi lovely! First off, I adored this request so much and I really hope I’ve done it justice. Tolerate It is such a beautiful song and defo one of my favourites off of Evermore to cry to, there’s just so much detail hidden within the lyrics and I adore that. Harry too!! There’s not enough stuff for Harry, so I hope I’ve done well for you! ( Also this is super short, but I’ve been swamped with coursework xox )

Summary: Y/N is in love with The Boy Who Lived, and due to marry him in the Spring with a beautiful April wedding. Friends to lovers to that engaged couple who are just too in love to function, they share the most perfect story. But when Y/N begins to see their relationship for what it is, her entire world is thrown off key...

Warnings: angst and lots of it, loneliness, sadness, swearing.

~

“You’re coming home tonight, right?” Y/N asks, excitement and anticipation heavy in her tone, cherry red nails clicking against the cold metal of the answerphone.

“Of course, I’ll be back soon, love.” Harry Potter, her beloved fiancé, answered back on the other side from his workplace all the way in central London. His office is almost empty, devoid of any homely photos or colleagues: they had all gone home to their families long ago, and yet he stayed behind. He had no work to finish, no cases glaring to be solved. There was nothing to do but leave, but Harry didn’t.

“You’ve said that before.” Y/N pointed out blandly, her forced smile fading slightly. Many times had Harry said he was on his way home, only to send a letter the next morning apologising for suddenly getting swamped with unavoidable paperwork. “Please come home Harry, I’ve even made your favourite for dinner.”

“That sounds good, I promise I’ll be there soon. I’m just leaving the Ministry now.” Harry replied monotonously, not sounding nearly as happy as Y/N wished he would. Perhaps he had just had a bad day at the office, he must have done. But he had just one too many bad days now, and the reality that he might not want to see her was beginning to sink in.

Shaking off that horrible thought, Y/N inhaled a sharp breath and chewed the edge of her top lip. “Alright, if you say so. I’ll see you then.”

“Bye.” Harry said shortly before putting the phone down and staring at his office, desperately trying to find a reason to stay at work. He did love Y/N, he did. Heck, he had even asked her to marry him and kissed the edge of her lips as they set the date. And then postponed it. And then postponed it another year after that, all because of some urgent work that Harry had suddenly come across. He was just so young, forced to grow up so quickly he didn’t even have time for a scrap of a childhood. Maybe that was why he didn’t want to see Y/N, why going home to their apartment often felt like a chore.

Back at their cosy flat in the nicer part of Greenwich, Y/N put the phone down after hearing an abrupt beep on the other end that let her know he had hung up. She sighed before walking over to a tall cabinet that stood to the side of their kitchen, taking out a set of nice china plates her Grandmother had left her and crystal wine glasses. It was the lovely cutlery only used for things like Christmas and obligatory dinner parties her family forced her to hold.

After setting it out on the table, Y/N checked the time and supposed that if Harry really had left as he said, he would be back in just a minute through the wonders of apparation. Carefully so she wouldn’t somehow spill the food in her clumsiness, a quality Harry once said he loved about her, Y/N moved the food from the oven, to plates and then through to their front room where the fancy cutlery was set up. A smile made its way onto her face, a beaming, gorgeous smile of confidence that her and Harry would finally have the night she deserved. One where work or his reluctance to put effort into their relationship, even if she did pretend she knew nothing about this, didn’t get in the way.

Alas however, minutes passed and there was no sign of Harry anywhere. The food grew colder and that wonderful, rare smile of hers faded into an all too comfortable frown, the crease between her eyebrows deepening with not only disappointment, but anger. A growing resentment for Harry’s lack of care or even acknowledgement of their engagement. He didn’t seem to give two hoots that she had made a lovely meal; after all, he had only called it ‘good’. Not fabulous or decadent or even something praiseful. Just good.

They hadn’t said ‘I love you’ before they hung up the phones. Harry had only said one word. Y/N’s mind began to spiral, her breathing growing quicker and sharper as the thought that it might be time to confront Harry about the buildup of letdowns over the course of the last few months. A year even, since he had properly spent time at home. At their home, the one in which he had knelt down on one knee and told her he wanted to grow old with her by his side, failing at muggle card games on the front porch as they watched their grandchildren play.

Not knowing exactly what to do, Y/N retreated to grasping at the doorframe to keep her body from tumbling to the ground. Her mind whirred with the usual possibilities to try and chase away his lateness. Got caught at work, perhaps Ron called. But none of it compared to the looming threat that Harry was scraping any old excuse together in order to stay away. That he was lying, something she never thought she would have to think about him doing. Harry had always been such an honest person, even as a child.

Y/N remembered how nervous he was when he first asked her out during their fifth year at Hogwarts. He had been on this disastrous date with some Ravenclaw she couldn’t quite remember the name of, and come back utterly defeated. Feeling sorry for a friend she had always harboured a crush on, Y/N had stayed up all night convincing him something better was around the corner. It occurred to Harry quite quickly after that that Y/N was that somebody. She liked him, and at the time that was enough to make him think he was in love. To some degree he was, but not nearly as much as Y/N had fallen for him.

It was almost midnight when the front door to their apartment clicked with the turn of a key, and Y/N, still standing in the same sad place by the door to their living room, finally saw Harry step into their home. It had been hours since they were supposed to eat the food that Y/N had worked to hard to create. There it still sat however, with the plates and crystal glasses and unopened bottle of wine in the same place, completely untouched.

Y/N had a thousand things to say to him. Usually it would begin with her asking him where he had been galavanting off to, but not tonight. Tonight was the final tear in her elastic heart, just enough to finally make it tear into two broken, hollowed out pieces. She stood, silent and just watched as he took off his shoes and put his coat back in it’s place without saying anything. Harry wasn’t even trying anymore, and that hurt more than him being late to begin with.

“Sorry for the delay, something came up.” Harry said, standing a few metres away from her. There was no affectionate kiss to the forehead like when they were fresh out of Hogwarts with teenage dreams and ambitions. No arm comfortably slung around her waist in a protective manner. Y/N missed that especially out of all the things that had faded away. That simple gesture that showed he wanted to hold her above all else, above everyone else who had ever wanted to touch the Chosen One like she did.

“Something.” Y/N repeated, no emotion in her voice. It sounded almost like a recording being played back to him, just with any tone sucked away. “It’s always something, isn’t it?” She continued, not finding quite the right words to encompass the flummox of emotions seeping into her veins. “Work. Ron called. Hermione called. Work. Work again.”

“There really was something.” Harry pathetically added. It was a lie of course, he had spent the hours at his desk alone and staring aimlessly at a fountain pen as it leaked ink onto the black carpet of his office.

“Do you really think I don’t know you at all? Stop lying to me, Harry, just stop it. I’m done with being lied to.” Y/N says, her voice remaining as monotonous as ever as if she’s already grieving something. “I want to know what was so important that you’ve missed the dinner I made. The last thirty dinners, in fact.”

Harry just runs a hand through his messy hair as he tries desperately to think of something to say. But he can’t. There’s nothing to say that would make him any less guilty.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.” He manages to whisper.

“You’ve said that already.” Y/N points out without missing a single beat. She’s exhausted of pretending that she doesn’t know what Harry’s been doing, drained of all energy to put in effort anymore.

“Just tell me what the problem is and we can fix it.” He begs, but his voice is shaky and the words sound as though he’s reading them from a script.

“Fine. When did you stop being in love with me?” Y/N asks, sadness seeping into her voice. Tears began to form in her eyes but were quickly blinked away; the last thing she wanted was for Harry to see her as weak. She might be pathetic, pitiful, stupid for not realising earlier... but Y/N was not going to be weak. Not now, not ever.

“Why would you think that? Y/N, I could never stop loving you.” Harry said, trying to wrap her into a hug only for Y/N to quickly wriggle out of his cold grasp. His fingers left icy burns where they had briefly touched her arm, and Harry’s face dropped as he realised she didn’t want him anywhere near her.

“But you have, Harry. Otherwise you wouldn’t be coming home at ridiculous times, or avoiding even looking at me like you are now. You don’t love me, you tolerate me because you don’t want to be alone. I feel like I’m begging to be in the footnotes in the story of your life, not a main character anymore.” Y/N explained quietly, neither expecting her to be so frank but once the blunt words were spilling from her lips, not even she could stop them. She watched as Harry’s face crumpled, sadness twisting her gut as she fervently tried not to cry herself.

“Y/N... I don’t know what to say.” Harry trailed off. Y/N used to be so infatuated with him, so desperately in love that she was blind to his flaws, much like his ridiculous fan base. But she had grown up from the teenager with a crush to a young woman with heart and with ambitions, and Harry was no longer apart of what she wanted out of life. She had stopped being a part of his long ago, she just hadn’t realised it then.

“Is this in my head? Tell me I’ve got it wrong somehow, Harry. Because please believe me, I could do it. I could leave.”

“I can’t.” Harry finally said. “I did love you once, Y/N. I’m not even sure what happened to us if I’m being completely honest.”

“That’s the problem: you don’t really even want me to stay. But that’s the thing... you built an entire new wizarding world after you defeated You-Know-Who, and where was I? I’m sorry for being dramatic and shit but I’m taking this dagger out and finally going where I need to be.” Y/N continued, not pausing as not to give him any time to ask her to stay, not that he would. Her mind was made up, and even Harry could see that.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” Harry whispered, his voice trailing off as Y/N went to get her coat from a peg just beside their front door.

“It’s alright, really. I know you don’t hate me, but both of us know this isn’t working anymore. I deserve someone who celebrates me and my love, and that isn’t you. I’m not really sure that it ever was.” Y/N said, a sad smile gracing her delicate features. She looked almost relieved. Utterly broken-hearted, but relieved all the same. “I’ll come back for my stuff tomorrow.”

“You’re leaving me?” Harry said. Even though she had told him why, it still came as a shock. Y/N nodded. “I’m so sorry I didn’t treat you how you deserve.”

“I’m sorry about that too.” Y/N replied, both warmly and coldly at the same time. “Goodbye, Harry Potter. All the best.”

“Goodbye.” It was all Harry could fathom to say as she pressed her engagement ring back into his hand, the final recognition of their relationship officially being over. It was a beautiful piece of jewellery, one she at one point she thought she would never take off her finger. There were no more words exchanged about the gesture for none were needed, all had been said already.

One simple word that locked the door on their relationship, the one that Y/N had finally gained the courage to close in the first place. It had taken her so long, so pathetically long, to realise that something wasn’t right. That Harry was meant to love her, that love shouldn’t and can’t survive while being one sided. It shouldn’t have to be tolerated, and Y/N had finally learned that through all those lonely nights of wondering where Harry was, what he was getting up to at work, if he even was there.

But as Y/N’s grandma used to tell her every Christmas, as one door closes, another always opens.

-

A/N: hoped you liked it anon!!!

Nancy xx

[shoichee]

Star-crossed

[Midorima x Reader]

[Hanahaki!au]

Word Count: 8840

Warning: attempted angst, death

Note: This is my first time writing angst, oh dear. Even after years of bawling over other people’s works, I still have no solid idea on how to create heart-wrenching writing. Here goes though.

»»—————　☼　—————««

“I’m really excited!”

“Ne, ne, I honestly can’t wait to bloom…”

“What kind of flowers would my body grow do you think?...”

You only drone out the incessant bustlings of chattering from your classmates as special health education class ended as you sat there patiently waiting for the next teacher to walk into class to start the next period.

Next is… ah, math…

You sigh, heaving out the bulky textbook out of your bag and drop it on the desk with a thump, making a few students flinch at the near proximity. You lay your elbow on the hardcover, allowing your thoughts to drift away as your fingers gently thrum. This teacher, you knew, was the type to start class unceremoniously late.

It was boring. Everyone already knew about the stage of blooming. It had been incanted incessantly to you by adults around you ever since grade school. Yet, Shūtōku high was one of the many high schools that still insisted in “teaching” the basic knowledge of what’s to come soon.

Maybe these classes don’t teach, but rather, serve as a reminder of the inevitable that all growing teenagers will face sooner or later: blooming.

Some people have already experienced it as soon as they graduated out of middle school; they were called the “early bloomers.” That was one of your closer friends.

So what’s it like? you once asked, turning to your new friend at the time. You said you bloomed…

And you recall her nodding her head fervently.

Yeah! she eagerly replied. While it may be painful at first, it went away after a few weeks for me… it’s not so different like getting a period, you know?... I heard it’s different for everyone, but for me, my heart thumped super loudly! And I get these tingly sensations!...

… It’s just like a sign that you’ve become totally mature!

A frantic clang from the doorway interrupts your train of thought as you eye the expectant teacher, completely out of breath as he tries to arrive on time but completely failing miserably.

Unlike in special health ed, most of the students groan at the thought of continuing the onslaught of derivative lessons. You don’t really care either way and promptly open your textbook to the appropriate page.

As class slowly ticks by, your mind wanders off from the subject of class again, drifting to the constant destination of your recent curiosity of bloomings.

You are what everyone calls a “late bloomer.”

You aren’t the only late bloomer, obviously, but it does make you quite anxious at the fact of potentially being the “last one” in your class, or perhaps out of the entire school.

No one wants to really hang out with a late bloomer; they were often stereotyped as “immature” or “abnormal.” After all, this was a normal stage of life, a sign of growing up out of childhood. No one wants to hang around with someone seen as a “kid.”

A soft cough pulls you from your daydreaming as you subtly glance at the desk to your left. It was a classmate of yours, as well as an acquaintance.

“Hey,” you whisper, trying to not bring attention to yourself. “... Are you okay?”

She gives a quiet clearing of her throat before she nods, hand still pressed against her lips. She then shakes her head side to side, her long hair swaying slightly with the motion.

“Ah, don’t worry about me getting sick,” you quietly reassure. “But you should really go to the nurse’s after. Have you tried tying your hair up? I heard doing so can help cool off and keep a clearer head…”

She cautiously drops her hand back to her desk before giving you a small, reassuring smile.

“Thank you, (l/n-san). I’ll be fine.”

“(l/n).”

“Yes!” You stand up from your desk the moment the teacher calls on you, relieved at the fact that he didn’t seem to notice your hushed conversation.

“Could you please come up to the board to solve this problem…?”

---------

Lunch time is always the time you come out of class to search for Takao. As you walk briskly in the hallways, you try to avoid staring at everyone’s floral tattoos located at the side of their necks, imprinted underneath the canopies of their jaws. Each individual’s flower mark showcased what their bodies grew during their stages of blooming.

And each plant was unique to the individual. They could represent their personality, their prospective future, what their future soulmate would be like… anything goes, and every student constantly gossips about what the other’s marks would exactly mean.

You, markless, walk faster, hoping that no one would spot you and flit their eyes to your blank neck… although everyone at school already knows those who have still yet to bloom.

You envy them.

“(y/n)-chan!!” Takao waves you over when you enter the cafeteria. “Over here!”

You briefly scan the tables before you spot him, begrudgingly noticing his pink hyacinth at the crook of his neck, even though you’re happy for him that he passed that stage of his life.

Pink hyacinths… they symbolized playfulness.

You would know; not only did special health classes painstakingly educate students since young for the anticipation of blooming, you took the extra effort of researching many more flowers on your own time, patiently abiding your time to have a striking plant engraved onto you one day.

As you carry your tray and slide into your seat, you finally notice a grumbling greenhead besides Takao.

“Shin-chan! So you do care about having a flower mark after all, eh?”

That’s right, huh. Midorima, too, was markless.

Just like you.

“Your assumptions are getting ridiculous, Takao.”

“Seriously? You expect me to believe that when your eyes always land on people’s necks when you talk to them—pfffft—” He breaks out into guffaws as he clutches his stomach helplessly, which cued Midorima into reaching for the point-guard in an attempt to strangle him.

Pink hyacinths are perfect for someone like Takao. You couldn’t help but let a smile slip from your lips.

“Whoaa!!” Takao peers over to you, ignoring his predicament of being restrained to death by Midorima. “(y/n)-chan! You should smile more!—ow!”

“Worry about yourself first,” he scowls, before tentatively letting him go with a defeated sigh. He opts to hold his lucky charm for the day (a terracotta pot).

“Shintarou-san,” you call out to him, after several minutes of comfortable silence as all three of you ate your lunches. “What do you think your flower would be?”

“Man proposes, God disposes. As long as I always provide everything to maximize my opportunities and follow the order of fate, I do not need to worry about such baseless things.”

You mildly snicker at his typical response. “Is that so, horoscope man.”

“Why waste time worrying about something that’s not in your hands?” He pushes up his glasses with his taped hand. “You should be focusing on what you can do as of now, nanodayo.” When he finishes, he looks up from his lunch to glance at you, noticing your widened eyes.

“Ah…” you stare at him at a loss for words, caught off guard at the fact that he sounded… almost concerned for you. “I’ll keep it in mind, Shintarou.”

“There’s no way that’s our Shin-chan!” Takao rushes to try to feel Midorima’s forehead. “That’s way too good of an advice to be you—”

“Shut up—get off of me—!”

As the two basketball players struggle in each other’s vice grips, they fail to notice the ruddy color having its own moment of blooming onto your cheeks.

---------

“... and what this means, class, is that having your first love is a monumental sign of blooming. That being said, having to experience love for the first time does not automatically guarantee blooming. This natural phenomena is still being studied by scientists around the world. What’s also interesting is that we humans are the only ones with this unique…”

More basic information? You yawn, covering your mouth in hopes no one notices, but as you look around you, your classmates are too engrossed in the lecture to even pay attention to anything else.

Of course they’d pay attention. It’s a special event that will happen to everyone at some point; even though you were sure they all already knew the information to heart, you knew they would take any opportunity to learn more about themselves in any way. You don’t blame them, however. You’re curious about your own body’s idiosyncrasies of not blooming yet.

“... Lies.” You snap your head to the source of the quiet remark to see your classmate on your left, arms crossed on the desk with a minimal scowl on her face.

Noticing your piercing stare, she turns to you before widening her eyes at realizing that she was heard. She abruptly turns her face to the front of the class, trying to pass off the act of suddenly paying attention to the teacher.

You turn your head to face the front as well but you still glance to your left from time to time.

“Are you feeling better?...” you hesitantly whisper.

Not expecting you to show concern, she jumps in her seat before eyeing you warily. As soon as she decides that you were merely concerned, she gives a polite nod and a smile.

“It was just a little flu I caught… Thank you for worrying about me. I’m just a sickly person but I thankfully recover very quickly.”

And with that, she ends the conversation with you to finally genuinely pay attention for the rest of class.

You try to do the same, but you feel knots of lead settling in your stomach.

… Lies?

What was that about?

---------

“(y/n)-chan! Wanna come and watch our practices today?”

You were stopped in the hallways by a grinning Takao, with a trailing Midorima not too far behind with a bundle of faux peacock feathers.

You’re not too sure if you should be concerned with a clinging Takao on your arm and attempting to kidnap you or a stoic Midorima displaying around a ridiculous souvenir.

“Huh? W-why?”

“You’re obviously free right now, obviously.”

“That doesn’t make sense—wah!”

Before you can put any further word in, Takao is dragging you to the gym, with an exasperated Midorima being figuratively pulled along with you two as well.

“Here we are, (y/n)-chan!” Takao ushers you beyond the gym doors and indicates the bleachers for you to sit and watch.

“You really think I’m going along with all of this, Kazu?”

“I know you better than anyone.”

“No you don’t,” you frown, turning away from him with a huff.

“Takao.”

Takao immediately gulps at the call of his name from Midorima and both you and him turn around to see a particularly hostile green-haired person.

“Sorry, sorry! Please don’t hit me!” And Takao races to the lockers in an attempt to escape from his fury.

Midorima relaxes his stance after he leaves and turns to you.

“Thanks, Shintarou.”

“I wasn’t doing it for you,” he says, adjusting his glasses. “He was just being more troublesome than usual.” But the way he clumsily handled his frames told a different story to you.

You laugh at him. “If you insist, Shintarou-san.”

“R-right…”

“Hey! Shin-chan!” Takao yells from the opposite side of the gym. Get over here! Captain is coming!”

At the captain being mentioned, Midorima straightens up before jogging over to warm up.

You suppose you can watch their practice this evening.

---------

You’ve never seen anyone handle a basketball like that.

What the hell? His range was damn near impossible.

You were thankful that you allowed Takao to drag you over to the gym to watch. Otherwise, you would’ve never learned about this side of Midorima.

Wait… Midorima?

No, you shake your head. It’s only because it was a lot more interesting than all of your classes, that’s all.

You repeat it to yourself like a mantra, yet every time your eyes land on Midorima’s shooting form, your mind goes blank.

You were absolutely captivated… not that you would ever admit it though.

---------

“... scientists are still doing social experiments on the blooming stage of humans. You may be wondering, if it’s been a part of societies for thousands of years, why are we studying it? Well, during old times, they were often explained using myths and folk stories…”

It really sucked that special health ed class was a mandatory requirement for all first-years. All of this was old news to you still.

“... new recent findings came out that answered the everlong question of whether the bloomings can actually be dangerous for humans, and how dangerous.”

Oh? That was new. But you suppose there was no way they’d tell little kids about the possibilities and risks with bloomings.

“Obviously, we know it can be fatal, just like pregnancies going awry and such. While we don’t know the exact mortality rate, researchers are trying to develop new medicines to curb away the potential amount of deaths associated with bloomings. But other scholars suggest not to drain precious resources into medicine development when they can use it for more pressing medical issues, and I know many of you believe this as well. Their take on this issue is that ‘blooming is something that should not be tampered with and the success of bloomings rely solely on the individual’s abilities and willpower to come of age since it’s unique to every person’...”

Unique… He was right. Even the signs and symptoms of a blooming vary greatly for everyone. The only thing everyone had in common was that their bodies grew plants. Even the way plants grow vary from person to person. That’s what they taught since the very beginning.

“... since blooming is unique to every individual, creating a standard medicine and procedure for all would be impossible, or at the very least inaccessible due to high expenses in accommodating medicine for every patient.”

Most of the students in the room nod in fervent agreement, and pretty soon, the room was filled with chattering at the new information they took in.

You glance to your classmate on your left again but you were surprised to see that her seat was empty.

Was she not here from the start?

You sigh and chide yourself for not noticing at the beginning of homeroom, but quickly dismiss the casual thought for more immediate problems like your upcoming exam for chemistry in a few periods.

Ah, oh well.

---------

“If you’re looking for Takao, forget it. He’s in detention for causing a disruption for one of the teachers last period.”

“Sh-shintarou?!” You whirl around to find Midorima alone with his bear plush. “You’re not at practice?”

“We practice tomorrow.”

“I see,” you say, not knowing how to continue the conversation from here.

“I guess I’ll be going home early then. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

As you try to walk past Midorima, he sidesteps quickly to block your pathway, and you walk right into him before stepping back out of embarrassment.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry—!”

“(y/n).” He averts his eyes while sliding up his glasses. “You’re walking home alone?”

Still in a state of flusters, you promptly nod your head as you stare down at your shoes.

“Come. We better get going before it gets too late. Cancers will have unlucky encounters after dusk.” Midorima jerks his head to the direction of the exit, motioning for you to follow before he turns on his heel and walks away.

“Sh-shintarou?”

“I-it’ll only be… troublesome if something were to happen.” He stops walking and looks back at you. “What are you waiting for? Hurry up.”

“R-right. Coming!”

---------

It wasn’t completely unexpected that the walk home would have an awkward atmosphere between the two of you. Usually, Takao would be the social “buffer” and the proxy between you two, but now that he was out of the picture, neither of you knew how to strike up a casual conversation. That was more of Takao’s specialty.

“... I’ve thought about what you said.” At his voice, you turn to look up at his contemplative face. You give him an inquisitive look to encourage him to continue his thought. “... Although I’m not so certain what kind of plant I would grow. Not even the Oha Asa could predict it.”

“Ah, I see…” You turn your face to face the front as you gaze at the sunset ahead. “Are you afraid of the uncertainty?” At your question, he falls silent, giving you the confirmation that he was, indeed, scared.

“Shintarou,” you murmur. “You’re not alone in feeling the uneasiness of blooming.”

“Wha—I never said anything about blooming, nanodayo—”

“Sure,” you interject. “Well, for me, I really hope I’d get a gorgeous flower, a flower so breathtaking that would make everyone stop in their tracks to admire the mark. I want to change those stares of pity and disdain into those of admiration and envy…” You can tell he’s hanging onto your every word despite the fact that he wasn’t facing you, his steps slowing down ever so slightly to be as close to you to hear what you had to say without deeming it suspicious.

“I envy Takao… a lot,” you sigh, and Midorima turns his head slightly to you at the mention of Takao’s name. “He already has a flower mark and he’s so put-together despite his cheerfulness… He’s really reliable.”

“I see.”

“... and the truth is, I’m really scared. I feel like I’m going to be the last person to ever get a mark. I wonder if there’s something wrong with me, with my body—”

He stops in his tracks.

“That’s a foolish line of thought.”

You turn to face him, ready to glare at him, but you stop when you make eye contact, startled at the intensity of his gaze. You swear you can see your figure reflected in his viridian irises. A few seconds of suffocating silence crawl by, and you break away eye contact, intimidated by his gaze and the possible implication of his words.

“Sorry about that.”

He says nothing in return.

The rest of the walk home became even more uncomfortable, with Midorima walking slightly ahead and you making a wordless effort to constantly match his stride.

You don’t know why, but seeing his taut back to you squeezes your heart ever so slightly, the mute badumps ever feeling like a constant dull sore.

“Shintarou…” you softly call out after you arrive at your house. The sun had left the horizon shortly before you arrived at your destination. “Thank you for walking me home, and… sorry, it looks like it’s past dusk now, but will you be able to get home safely?”

“Fool,” he huffs. “I have my lucky charm to compensate for my misfortune today.”

You smile at him, relieved at the thought that maybe that moment before was all just your overthinking.

“Of course, Shintarou.”

---------

It was hard looking at Midorima without losing your cool from that point on. It wasn’t like the two of you did anything out of the ordinary yesterday, excluding the fact that he volunteered to walk you home. But you knew he just cared for you in his own way, as a friend.

As a friend.

“(y/n)-chan!” Takao tries to pounce on you, pulling your cheeks apart. “What’s with the nasty frown on your face? Didn’t I tell you that you should smile more?”

“Shtop—pawling—Takow—!”

As he laughs at your stretched face from his pulling, you manage to pry his hands off of your cheeks and take refuge behind the sour-faced shooting guard. “Shintarou! Save me from Takao!”

“Takao, come here.” He gave a harsher punch to his head than usual, and Takao did not fail to comment on it.

“Sheesh, that hurt even more, Shin-chan? What did I do?—oh, ohhhhhhh.” His grimace lit up to an expression of realization and mischievousness. “I see.”

“Your antics are getting more and more preposterous. If you have that much energy, you should expend it during practice, nanodayo.”

“Right, right, Shin-chan!” He waves Midorima off before slinging his arm around your shoulder. “But (y/n)-chan, don’t think you're off the hook just yet!”

You can only sigh as he dramatically waggles his finger at you while Midorima clicks his tongue, opting to walk to his classroom instead.

“H-hey! Don’t leave me behind!”

And with that, the duo disappeared right before the warning bell rang.

---------

You sense an uncharacteristic aura of hostility directed at you right when you entered class, but you shake your head before plopping at your designated seat. As much as you try to mind your own business, the hostility you felt peaked even more. You glance around before your eyes fall on your classmate to your usual left.

She was silently seething, but particularly at you.

“Is… something the matter?” You shot her a worried look. “You were gone yesterday, right? Did your flu kick up again?”

“What’s with you?”

“Pardon?”

“Why do you care so much for me? I never asked for it.”

“Wh-what? I’m just worried? Did I say something wrong?”

“You are—”

“I am?”

And the bell rang with such convenient timing to interrupt the two of you.

“It’s nothing. Forget it.”

And class started without a further word from her, and as lectures progress, you peek over to her desk to see her never looking your way. The least you do, you decide, is to try to apologize and talk to her afterschool.

“... a revolutionary finding was published all over the news yesterday regarding bloomings. He proposed the most controversial proposition yet: bloomings neither affect the human body’s growth and maturity physiologically nor psychologically and that these ‘effects’ from blooming are merely all placebo. His conclusions have caused an uproar in the world of scholarship, but what I want for you students to do is to write an in-class paper about your reaction to these potential revelations…”

You sit up straight, and for the first time, you listen to his lessons with utmost attention. Your mind racing, you rush to grab a suitable pencil before you start to write your thoughts for the assignment. You peer over to your classmate to see her already writing furiously. You do the same.

She was the first student to screech the chair as she stood up, daintily holding the paper to bring it to the front desk.

All you could discern from her paper, even despite the neat writing, was:

I am ultimately relieved.

---------

“W-wait! Please!” You dash out of the classroom, trailing after your classmate who hightailed it out as soon as possible.

“Leave me alone already!” she heaves over her shoulder, willing her legs to run even faster.

“Your… homework! I have to give… work that you… missed!” And you had relatively no problem speeding up to match her pace.

“Can you just stop following me?! I can just get it from my teachers! What’s your deal?!”

“I want to apologize—!” But before you can finish your sentence, your classmate drops onto her knees, clasping her mouth in complete desperation. “H-hey! What’s wrong?!”

She wheezed into her palms before she got up and ran again before you could completely catch up to her.

She busted open the main doors and ran into the secluded areas of the school courtyard, hoping to lose your trail of her, but as soon as she turned from looking behind her shoulder to the front again, you managed to cut her way off.

“Your… homework…” you gasp for air, shakily handing her the papers that were clenched in your hand.

The next thing you register are splatters of blood on the sheets. And your classmate desperately holding her coughs in.

“Hey!...” You hold her frame, slowly dropping the two of you onto the ground in kneeling positions to try to ease the burden on her body, soiled papers already discarded to the side.

Cough. “Don’t—” Cough. “Fucking—” Cough. “Touch me…”

As she spoke, her hands loosen up their grip against her mouth, but as soon as she did, petals and buds cascaded from her lips. Which were all soaked in blood.

“I…” You dumbly look at the pile of flowers in front of her. You couldn’t even tell what type of flowers they were from all the blood. “You’re blooming?” You always thought she already did.

She slaps your hand, which was on her shoulder the entire time, before tucking her strands behind her ear to prevent them from being further drenched in crimson.

Her neck, being exposed for the first time, was blank.

“C-congratulations!” You say, holding both her shoulders this time with excitement. “You’re—!”

Slap.

The sound resonated through the area, which luckily was mostly empty. Your face pulsates with a stinging heat.

“I’m fucking dying!” She stands up shakily from her kneeling position. “How could you say such an awful thing—I’m dying, I’m fucking dying…”

You can only stare at her in shock from her being so volatile for the first time since you met her, or the fact that she said such a morbid thing.

“I don’t… I don’t understand—?”

“I’m sick!” she seethes, her throat struggling to choke out words. Tears run silently down her agonized face, diluting the thick blood smeared across her face.

“I’m so sorry…! I didn’t know your flu was this ba—”

“You’re the reason why I’m dying,” she hoarsely spat.

The silence was so palpable that even the labored breathing from her was unnaturally loud.

“What? Why me?”

“I…” she hesitates, before dropping to her knees, sobbing uncontrollably. “I’m so sorry… I didn’t mean to—it’s not your fault, I…

… I’m so scared.” Hiccup. “There isn’t any medicine to help me…”

You hand her a tissue from your bag to try to clean up the bloody mess off of her, but before you can dab the tissue to her face, she gingerly grabs your wrist.

“I… love Takao.”

What? You held your breath, anticipating to hear what she’d say next.

“But he rejected me not too long ago. I thought I could get over him and be done with blooming relatively quickly but…” She pointedly looks at you. “Whenever he’s so close to you, especially as of late… my heart hurts. It hurts, it hurts so badly and I don’t know, and then I just start coughing more, and more, and more.”

“It’s just a stage of life,” you insist. “Maybe your case is the most extreme, but—”

“Oh, stop it already,” she snarls. “You still believe in whatever they feed you about this ‘blooming’? It’s a disease, for fuck’s sake.” She tries to get up again. “I thought… I could be friends with you because you were the only one who wasn’t being sucked into their rhetorics… guess I was wrong.”

You were still on your knees when you tried to stretch out your hand to her, but retracted it after seeing her stumble away from you. But as she did so, she hacked out a new bouquet of flowers, but this time, you could see tiny white flowers rimmed with pale blue.

Morning glories…

They meant unrequited love.

“(y/n)...?” she softly asked, for the first time using her usual mild-mannered tone of voice with you today. She disregarded the mess of petals she made around her, appearing to be accustomed to the unsettling sight.

“... yes?”

“Do you love Takao?”

“I would never see him that way.”

“That’s… good to hear…” She gives you a defeated close-eyed smile.

“Wait… you still need to get cleaned up.”

You got up on your feet to try to guide her face your way to wipe off, and as you try to scrub the dried clots of blood away, she manages to croak a laugh.

“I thought that you were trying to rub it in my face about Takao the entire time whenever you talked to me… I was so wary of you, I was so blinded…” You silently listen as you pour your water bottle over the next tissue.

“Do you know why teens in particular have to pay attention to when they’ll bloom?”

“No…” You furrow your brows, already reevaluating about everything you supposedly already knew about blooming. “I don’t.”

“Teens are more likely to have their first love than any other person. If they can overcome their first unrequited love… that would mean… they are ready to apparently to survive and carry on with their lives…

… tell me… am I not good enough to be alive? I can’t even get over—”

You only hush her as you scrub away the last remnants of blood from her skin. Her clothes were unfortunately already stained.

“That’s the best I could do,” you quietly say. “Please get home as soon as possible. And take care of yourself.”

“The paper we had today in class… When our teacher talked about the new findings of blooming research, I was so happy. But looking around class, no one seemed to share the same sentiments. Even still, I am glad about the possibility that one day, we’d stop emphasizing so much on these marks…

“Although I wish I made the attempt to become closer friends with you sooner, I have no regrets now… I’m so glad you’re here…

 “I feel so relieved…”

---------

The next day of school, you had an ominous feeling settled within the pits of your stomach. You come to school early, deciding to sit at your desk the entire time and reading to pass the time. You did not feel like talking to your happy-go-lucky friend and his grumpy pet, as much as you usually enjoy their company.

Ever so often, you would glance at the clock and wish for it to come faster.

The bell eventually rings and most of the students crowd into the classroom into their seats. The homeroom teacher promptly follows after and puts her bag onto the front desk. But the seat to your left… was empty.

“Everyone… I have some unfortunate news to share,” she solemnly says. No, no, no… it can’t be.

Your mind goes blank as you stare at the teacher, vaguely reading her lips as one thing went in and out the other ear.

“... she unfortunately passed away. She wasn’t able to bloom.”

Your heart, already struggling to keep afloat on the last shreds of optimism, sank.

“Wha…? She’s gone?”

“That’s such a pity…”

“She was in our class? Since when?”

“Yikes, she wasn’t even able to bloom? That sucks for her, honestly.”

You stare blankly at your desk, not registering the fact that the special health ed class teacher took over the class after homeroom.

The whispers around the gossiping students only serve as a cruel reminder that late bloomers did not get any sympathy from others.

You needed to bloom, and fast.

---------

You only manage to exit out of class and find the cafeteria out of pure muscle memory, but your mind constantly goes back to yesterday evening with her. Were you the last person she got to speak with before she died? Was she scared? Did she truly die happy? You will never get to know.

You stop before the cafeteria doorway, inhaling and exhaling to bring your conscience back into the present day, and slowly stroll in. Takao and Midorima were already deep in conversation, so you stop, waiting for the perfect opportunity to join them.

“Shin-chan, have you heard?” Takao says, holding up his fork. “A student our year died from blooming.”

“It’s not in my matters to worry about, although I would like to give her family my condolences.” Midorima takes his time to cut his patty cleanly with a knife.

“It must suck though, to think this would happen… isn’t it a bit sad, Shin-chan?”

“It’s easily preventable, nanodayo.” He chews a small piece before continuing. “I would’ve never made the foolish mistake of falling in love. I’d rather be markless than fall in love.”

He would’ve never made the foolish mistake of falling in love…

He would’ve never made such a mistake…

He would’ve never fallen in love.

And certainly not with you.

Your heavy heart spikes in a pulse. Your heart was now racing for the wrong reasons. Those dull sores were now nothing compared to the incessant squeezing on your heart. And it won’t let up. You try to steady your breathing to calm yourself but your intake of air almost feels as if it’s being cut off.

You feel as if you can’t breathe.

You step back a couple steps before you dash to the nearest restroom, ignoring the stares of a few students around you.

“Speaking of the girl, wasn’t she in (y/n)-chan’s classroom? I actually haven’t seen her around today.”

“Takao, let me eat in peace.”

“Sheesh, you’re such a downer, Shin-chan.”

---------

You not being able to breathe was not just figuratively.

You ran to the restroom up on the 3rd floor, where you knew it was always mostly empty. You opened the door of the furthest stall and locked yourself in before you tried to heave whatever was blocking your airway.

1… 4… 7… 8 fern leaves—fronds—were choked out in a string of forced wheezes. They all floated seemingly innocently on the water of the toilet bowl.

Your body trembles, not able to take the sudden physical burden on it.

You should be happy, you really should. This was what you wished and prayed for all these years. But whatever you coughed out wasn’t even pretty-looking; hell, it wasn’t even a flower.

“I’d rather be markless…”

With Midorima’s words playing back to back in your head like a broken record, your lungs had the visceral reaction to gasp for more air before throwing up the rest of the leaves. It took the rest of lunch for you to stand up properly and collect yourself before you headed back to class.

You wished and you wished for your blooming to come, but now that your signs became apparent, you suddenly don’t want to bloom.

---------

Classes became harder to focus on, especially with the persistent dull stabs echoing in your heart. You feel that this pain was being constantly amplified and spread to the rest of your body.

You’re tired already, and it was only the initial stages.

School finished before you even knew it. Maybe it was because of the constant distraction your pain provided. A benefit from this new situation, if you were trying to be hopelessly optimistic, is that you wouldn’t be bored anymore at least.

You walk out of class in a slight daze, loosely scanning your surroundings until your eyes land on Takao and Midorima, although your gaze lingered on Midorima longer than you want to admit.

You hate this. The moment you figured that you fell in love with him was also the moment you learned that it was unrequited. If that wasn’t the unluckiest thing that ever happened to you, you don’t know what else is.

As you walk towards them, you toy with the idea of carrying around lucky items and taking Midorima’s advice in doing whatever you can to make your life easier (especially as of late), but you decide against it, trying not to dig your own grave by purposely doing things that reminded you of the green-haired boy even more.

“Kazu! Shintarou!” You casually wave over to them, masking the pain you felt at the sharp jabs you felt every so often in your chest.

“Oh? There you are,” Takao walks to your side to drop his arm on your shoulder. “Where you been, (y/n)-chan?”

“Been busy with… assignments and school.”

“Ah, well that can’t be helped. Speaking of busy, our captain is upping our practices, so we’re going to be gone a lot of the times.”

“No, no, don’t worry about me, just focus on basketball,” you say. “After all, that’s what you’re most passionate about. Don’t let me stop you.”

“You sure are understanding,” he laughs as he ruffles your hair. “But so—wah? Shin-chan, where are you going? Don’t leave me behind, damn it!”

Midorima won’t even speak with you…

“Seeyah! Nice seeing you!”

“Yeah… bye, Takao and… Shintarou…” By the time you spoke Midorima’s name, it barely came out as an audible whisper.

Somewhere within your heart, you hoped to be able to speak with Midorima but you wonder if he’s avoiding you on purpose.

As you walk home, alone, you think about the conversation you and Midorima had when he walked with you.

Had you misinterpreted Midorima in thinking that he wanted to bloom?

Was Midorima not the type to even want a mark?

In the end, were you just projecting your own desires and insecurities onto him?

The more you think, the more you realize how little you truly know about him. Right on cue, your windpipe constricts and spasms, signalling for you to find something to throw up in.

The nearest trash can was sufficient, and besides, no one was out in the streets to see a pitiful you hacking out with atrocious noises in an attempt to coax the leaves out. You pant in an attempt to calm your breathing, noticing the small spots of blood already staining dots on the vibrant fronds. Viscous blood mixed with your saliva hangs precariously from your lips, waiting to separate and fall into the bin with the leaves.

Your hands, grasping the trash can’s rims, shake in trying to hold your body up. And they tremble harder when you squint your eyes to start sobbing.

Your thick tears managed to fall into the bin before the ropy strands of blood dangling from your lips.

---------

You decide to spend most of your free time, at home and at school, researching about blooming beyond what your education system fed you. At school, you properly utilize the library, scouring every book on the subject you could find. But you weren’t surprised to see only books that talked about topics that were already covered in class.

Your fervid research took your mind off of Midorima, which subsequently stalled your stage of blooming.

You were going to start at the foundation of blooming: what exactly was it?

While the question is still being debated among the top scientists in the country, you took it upon yourself to try to come with an answer for yourself. For all you were concerned with, everything you thought you knew about blooming felt like an intricately-woven lie.

All the theorizing in your mind halted when you coincidentally found Midorima in one of the library sections.

“Sh-shintarou…?”

At your voice, he jumps out of his skin and then freezes. “What are you doing here?... Don’t you have practice?”

“Obviously I do, nanodayo…” he mutters, sliding his glasses up. You hate that you’ve noticed his habits even before you fell for him, but now that you did, you were even more hyper aware of everything he does. “But they insisted I rest for the actual games.”

“... while the others continue practice like normal?”

He ignores your question as he turns around to walk away. “If you don’t need me for anything else, I’ll be going.”

“W-wait!” You unconsciously grab the back of his uniform shirt. Shit.

He turns around, eyeing you and waiting what you had to say.

“Well, I… I have to go home—right now! And well, since Takao is at practice I was wondering if you—”

He frowns before calmly replying. “No.”

No?

He leaves.

You stand there completely devastated. You don’t know whether to be furious at him and hate him to get over your pain or to do nothing but collapse against the bookshelf and silently cry your heart out.

You did the latter.

---------

The more you think about your unrequited love, the faster you will bloom. The faster you overcome and mature, the faster your blooming will pass. That’s what the books say.

But if you think about them more, isn’t that just a first-row ticket to accelerating to your death? Perhaps your late classmate was right in which blooming wasn’t something to boast about.

Your eyes have been puffy for days, although you mask it quite well with skincare and a dab of concealer. Nonetheless, you still look unwell and unnaturally pale at other parts of your face.

Your other classmates don’t pay attention to you, and for once, you’re grateful that your markless status helped you in flying under everyone’s radar.

You think you’re getting delusional. To ease your own pain during class, you now make it a little hobby to come up with different scenarios in how you would be saved from this.

What if you stop coming to school for a few weeks to see if anyone notices that you went missing?

What if you collapse in the hallway while walking with your friends and then Midorima panics and confesses his undying love for you?

What if an earthquake hit the bustlings of Tokyo and you were one of the only students who couldn’t be rescued by professionals and you were trapped because of your blooming body—and then maybe perhaps Midorima—

“(y/n).”

“Y-y-yes?” You immediately stand up without missing a beat.

“Could you read the passage from lines 37 to 49?...”

“Yes!...”

This was stupid. What were you even thinking at this point?

Honestly, your best option was to do everything in your power to get over Midorima and get your long-deserved mark.

---------

It’s been a couple of days.

While you still fantasize a few “damsel in distress” scenarios sometimes, you feel numb in a good way; your body was accustomed to the dull thuds, so you don’t even feel them as much anymore, and your mind has been clearer ever since the passing of your acquaintance, but at this point, you’re more inclined to call her your friend. You still hacked up a few ferns, though.

You decide to visit her grave on the weekend, which was freshly dug and cemented; it’s been a few weeks since her passing after all. As stupid as it sounded, you got her morning glories. Her spirit might hate you for constantly reminding her the cause of her death, but it’s the only flower that truly reminds you of her, and the only flower that made such an impact on you.

You pay your respects and spend the afternoon with her, murmuring how she was right after all and now it was your turn to finally go what she went through. You also talk about how Takao was doing, and how Shūtōku was competing right now against the big schools. You affectionately rub her gravestone before you leave.

You happen to pass by the stadium of where the esteemed Winter Cup was being held. That was where your team was competing wasn’t it?

You stop, however, when you see a particular greenhead near, with an unfamiliar blonde… and a pink-haired girl, a gorgeous one at that.

Thump… thump… thump…

You were supposed to be over him. You weren’t supposed to care about his affairs. But you saw him being so casual with her while she was holding a baby husky, you suddenly felt as helpless as the you back in the cafeteria, at the doorway, when you heard what Midorima said.

You already told your late friend that you got over Midorima. The last thing you wanted to do now was to end up lying to her that you never did.

You tear your eyes away and bolt, tears blurring your vision as you run in the general direction to where you thought was your home. You hoped that your parents were still at work, because you did not have the courage to tell them that you were a disappointment because you couldn’t even do the bare minimum of blooming. And you certainly hoped her spirit wasn’t following you somehow, because you didn’t want to be the reason for her suffering again, as unreasonable as it sounded.

By the time you arrived at your gates, you couldn’t control the resurfacing of ferns from your lungs as you felt the blood spilling in bursts with the leaves, along with the loud hiccups and desperate wails that escaped from your body. You had left a visible trail of complementary colors of red and green. But you didn’t care. Guilt and rejection wracked your body to the point beyond properly functioning.

Despite the muddy colors that fill your vision, you manage to clumsily use the keys to enter into your house, but walking beyond those gates proved to be more troublesome as those muddy colors soon became even hazier and your legs wobbled weaker. You stumbled and tripped and slipped yet you made the effort to get back up again. You knew you were going to have to hide the dark bruises that formed from you constantly crashing… and probably come up with excuses if you couldn’t obscure all of them. You beg your body to make it to your room at the very least.

I’ll… just sleep it off… it’ll all be okay… I’ll wake up, and everything will just be a dream… a dream…

You collapse onto the floor of the living room, your house door still completely open from moments before.

It must be your room’s bed, right? How else would it explain why you felt so at ease right now?

You feebly choke, too lethargic to even hold up a hand to stop the contents of your blooming from spilling all over the floor.

Ah… won’t they be mad when they’d get back from home?... Maybe you should clean up your bed.

But a short nap sounds heavenly at the moment, and your body has the same idea, your heart relaxing and easing up on the painful thuds for the first time in a while.

You peacefully flutter your eyes, registering amongst the haze the brilliant shade of greens the fern exhibited, which truly reminded you of the person who ultimately could not return your love back… a true sight for sore eyes like yours.

“Sh… ta… rou…”

You vaguely felt your throat tickling from the inside before you lost complete consciousness.

The fern that represented eternal youth… new life… new beginnings… even until the end, you could not comprehend why your body decided to grow ferns.

The sight on the floor was eerily ethereal. Your face was completely serene as your lips were parted by long, elegant ferns emerging from your esophagus, watered by fresh crimson. Your body looked like it was made to be a delicate, asymmetrical vase for the newly-sprouted foliage. There was nothing but silence, save for the wall clock’s ticking that signaled your death.

---------

“Midorin? What’s wrong?” Momoi tilted her head up at Midorima, who started to palpitate. “Did the games pump you up?”

“Obviously not.” He glanced at her pointedly before he excused himself.

“H-uh? Hold up—Midorin!”

At her voice, he took longer strides to outpace, even lose, her, and he sharply made a turn to a deserted area behind the stadiums. Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe—

A cough. Two coughs. Then his floodgates bursted, with a yellow petal fluttering into his hand before he coughed up the rest of the hyacinth flower, its scent steeped in the headache-inducing odor of metal.

The yellow hyacinth… while the pink hyacinth tattooed on Takao meant playfulness, his own flower meant jealousy.

The first time he felt it was when Takao dragged you to the gym and proclaimed that he knew you better than anyone. His own heart thrashed in its place at the sight of Takao being so confident and easygoing around you. While beating Takao managed to subdue his inner pain, a seed of doubt was still inevitably planted within.

The second time he felt a stronger wave of envy was when he saw you patiently waiting for Takao to come out of his class.

The third time he felt his heart do an awful kick in his upper rib cage was when he heard you spoke so highly of Takao as he walked you home. No matter how much he tried to get close to you, he knew he could never outdo Takao socially. The fact that he could only get as close as he did to you was indirectly thanks to Takao. He was silent that evening, his mind swirling from the self-hatred and jealousy of his innate friendliness to everyone… especially you.

You both ironically envied Takao for different reasons.

As soon as he waited for you to safely enter your house, he widened his eyes as his throat started to twitch. Clasping his lucky item, he bolted to the nearest grass area outside a fence to barf up his umpteenth whole hyacinth flower, with crushed petals and stems.

That’s when he knew that not even the Oha Asa could not save him from this, not unless he took a different approach.

He hated it. He could not emphasize it any further than that. The way you allowed Takao to get so close to you, the way he saw how Takao knew what was going on inside his head. He hated yet envied his natural ability to read people.

 So what did he do? He only did what he only knew how to do in social situations: walk away.

He’d never admit that he was in love. Certainly not to Takao. He’ll keep denying it to him to the bitter end. He told himself that he would show Takao someday, that he was, without a doubt, more suitable to be by your side.

He wanted to get over his love for you as soon as possible so he could adorn a flower tattoo…

If he did… would you notice him too?

Would he be a man worthy of your love?

Avoiding you broke him in many ways. Every time he did, he kept rethinking about his plan. Was this a good idea?

But being the stubborn person he was, he decided to not budge. He’d figure that the Oha Asa would give him the ultimate blessings for Cancer someday soon, and he could act accordingly then. For now, he figured he should lay low.

He’ll never breathe a word of his blooming to Takao. He didn’t want to be the next person making that same mistake as your classmate, yet here he was, a perfect example of falling for the exact same trap, despite knowing the consequences.

He couldn’t help it. Not if it was you.

Yet, Takao being the sharp point-guard that he was, noticed how Midorima had trouble keeping up during practices. Midorima didn’t know what Takao told the captain, but the next thing he knew, he wasn’t allowed to practice under the pretense of “saving his strength before the games.” As much as he wanted to argue, he couldn’t do much when the captain’s glare pierced through him, daring him to defy the captain’s order. He couldn’t even play basketball anymore in order to distract himself from thoughts of you.

As he continued to think back about all the failed interactions he tried to initiate with you, his lips leaked petal after soaked petal onto the concrete as he propped his forearms and head against the wall.

“Damn it… damn it… damn it…”

He slowly slid his down, his fisted arms and head still against the wall, until he dropped his knees onto the hard floor. He tried to regain his composure, but it was difficult with his knees mushing the bloodied flowers already on the concrete and the fresher flowers ever so continuing to fall on his lap.

He kept hacking up hyacinths blossoms, hoping he could clear his throat and stabilize his breathing again before he could go back into the stadium. Even after nonstop regurgitation, its glaring yellow color kept mocking at his macabre predicament, taunting him to try to stop the flow of its fatal petals.

He slammed his fist against the wall. He had to tough it out… how else could he ever face you?

But the strength of his wall pounding told a different story. It lacked physical strength even with his unwavering conviction. Midorima was dying. He was dying and he wasn’t even able to have a single thing in his favor.

For the first time, he cursed his fate, cursed the horoscopes, cursed astrology and all the unseen deities in the cosmos for concocting up such a horrible thing for only humans.

“... It’s really frustrating… being like this…”

Midorima gave a final, painful rasp before his body completely slumped, his raised arms going limp at his sides. His body eventually fell onto his side, unable to hold up its own weight without support.

His viscid blood slowly soaked his verdant hair, his orange jersey jacket and sweats, and his golden hyacinths. Warm colors ironically encompassed his ever-growing cold corpse, illustrating a striking yet haunting still-life painting, lying in wait for the next person to discover at the back of the stadium…

[sope-and-shine]

When World’s Collide: Pt. 1

-> Pairing: Moon God!Taehyung x Fate!Reader ->  SFW // fluff, angst, humor // enemies to lovers!au, soulmate!au  -> Word Count: 17.7k -> Summary: Taehyung has spent most of his life ignored by his peers and alone on his barren planet. So when a lonely King reaches out to him in hopes to bring his love to him, how could he ignore his plea? However, it’s not good to mess with fate, and it’s even worse to make the same mistake twice. -> Warnings: mild language, the reader is a bad bitch, minor character death, minor innuendos, Jimin is a hoe

a/n: THIS STORY IS DIRECTLY CONNECTED TO THE RIGHT OF A KING! YOU DON'T HAVE  TO READ IT FIRST, BUT IT WOULD MAKE A LOT MORE SENSE IF YOU DO

Part 1 // Part 2 // Masterlist

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At the beginning of the universe there was a big bang that created the planets and stars as we know it, and with the spread of these divine creations came the deities that would oversee them. Each being crafted from the magic that created the rest of their home in the cosmos, they take care of their planets and the other magical wonders that make up their home.

Taeyang - the Sun God - a jovial and bright spirit. He keeps the planets aligned and in motion when the Universe tips off balance. He holds each of the 9 planets accountable and they trust him to lead the way, as do the higher deities. Universe, Cosmos, Galaxy, Life, Death, and Fate - the 6 high deities that make up the universe. Without one, then the home that they share would not function as easily as it does. They trust the other deities to do their jobs no matter how big or small, and it’s that trust that makes their home run so smoothly.

Taehyung has always understood this. From the day he first opened his eyes, he’s always known where his place has been within the hierarchy of the solar system. He’s a lonely planet in the shadow of the Earth, left to hear the calls of the humans for their home planet but never for him. To those that stare up at him, he is but a night light in the vast expanse of space.

When you’re a low tier deity - much like those of the dwarf planets - you’re not as needed as others. Earth is always busy with his humans, and to find him when the deities meet is a truly rare occurrence - to find any high deity other than the Sun, Universe, Galaxy, and Fate was a true miracle. They all have important jobs that keep life on Earth flourishing and the planets orbiting around the Sun and stars lit in the sky, and he’s just there as an afterthought. 

No one asks for Taehyung the Moon God. No one knows about him. No one needs him. He rests on a single rock in the sky with no one to talk to and no one to help.

He just exists.

There are some days where he’ll sit on the dark side of his planet and sit in the silence. He’ll create his own world and pretend that he is a great and powerful being with many friends and a bounty of people to look up to him. He’ll stay in that dream for days and weeks on end, and his only wish is to remain there.

On days where he’ll roam the other half of his home, he’ll sit and listen close to the tiny voices calling from Earth. He’ll listen in on their conversations and talk back as if they were talking to him for once. 

“Yes, you may have a dog very soon.”

“Your brother is sick? Give him two days and he’ll be all better!”

“You wish to meet? I wish we could, but I am just a deity and you are a human.”

Hours he’d spend talking to himself and pretending that he was helping others. For that short period of time that he amused himself, he always felt lighter and like he was more than just the Moon.

It was one day talking to himself that he finally heard it. The plea was loud and bold - almost as if the person was sitting right next to him - and it had him scrambling to his feet faster than he could leave for another planet. 

“Moon Goddess, please hear my prayer. I need your help,” An unfamiliar male voice pleads. Taehyung looks around, but there’s no sign of life anywhere around him. The voice continues, “Please...I no longer wish to be alone.”

It feels like a punch to the gut to have someone begging him - for him of all people - to help them feel less lonely. How could he help if he couldn’t even make real friends of his own. What was he supposed to do for him that he couldn’t do himself?

“Please...I do so much for my people and I love them with everything I am, but I can’t do this alone anymore!” The pain in the human’s voice hits Taehyung deep, deeper than anything he’s heard before. Perhaps it’s because for once, he’s the one being called upon instead, “I know this is too much to ask, but I beg of you. Just a lover or even a friend would do. But I can’t be lonely like this anymore.”

Had he said anything else then maybe Taehyung would have ignored him.

Had it not been so long that he himself had been alone, he wouldn’t have answered.

But Taehyung finds himself on Earth without a second thought, hiding behind a tree in what he can only describe as a human village. Men and women walk along a dirt path lined with miniature buildings, each one containing what looks to be food or crafts. Children run wildly between the legs of adults, and each person - young or old - that he sees wears beautiful clothing much different from his.

“Strange...” The god muses to himself.His peers were no stranger to beautiful clothing, but theirs were far from what these humans wear. Colorful silks layered over each other, simple yet beautiful. Taehyung finds himself completely entranced.

Instead of jumping out into the open, the god sticks to the shadows. He tiptoes behind stalls, peeking around the corner to watch the crowd as they pass by. He observes the way they walk and the way they interact with each other, wanting nothing more than to place himself in their conversations. But no one but Namjoon could talk to him.

If he were to bring too much attention to himself, then the other deities would figure him out before he could help Namjoon. To complete his mission, he would have no choice but to remain a secret to only the king and those within his home. No one could know about him.

It takes him a while to get through town, but Taehyung finally stumbles upon the royal castle. “Is this really a human home?” He asks himself.

The long, fenced path that leads him to the gated palace is beautiful. It’s decorated with flower bushes and lanterns every few feet. The palace itself stands tall above the gate it’s encased in. It’s much more extravagant than what he’d imagined of a human, “It’s much larger than the ones on the way here.”

A woman comes around the side of the gate wearing beautiful garments of white and pink, a basket in her hands filled with fruits. Her clothes are gorgeous, and compared to Taehyung’s own clothing, she fits in better among the people he’s seen. 

“Her clothes are so beautiful.” He says aloud, admiring the swish of the fabric as she enters the grounds past the guards. Looking down at his own clothes, Taehyung pouts, “I guess I don’t fit in…” Taehyung thinks back to the beautiful pieces he’s seen in such a short time already. He’d need something just as beautiful and as comfortable as theirs. 

Without much of a second thought, Taehyung uses what magical prowess he has to make himself his own white and baby blue attire to help himself blend in. His hair he decides to let down, layered on his shoulders. His new attire makes him feel somehow more powerful, and he can’t stop the proud smile that spreads on his face, “Much better.”

Taehyung makes his approach to the gate where he saw his inspiration enter, smiling brightly at the stone-faced guards that eye him wearily. The guard to the left of the doors puts a hand out in front of him, “Stop! What business do you have here?”

“What business?” Taehyung stops to think. He hadn’t thought much about human society or their culture. His plan was to show up and talk to the King, he didn’t expect to be put at a standstill so close to his destination. Without thinking much of it, he turns his nose up, “I’m here on the King’s business.”

The guard on the right takes a step forward, “The King didn’t send for anyone.”

“He called for me.” Taehyung assures them, not letting the inconvenience stop him. No matter what, he had to find a way in to see the King. Even if he had to lie his way through. “He sent me a letter himself.”

The left guard holds out his hand, “I want the letter.”

The God’s stomach drops, “I don’t have it anymore, he-...” He pauses for just a moment, “-he told me to get rid of it!”

The guard holding out his hand pulls it back and shrugs, “If it’s gone then we can’t let you in.”

The guard to his right moves forward to lead him away, but Taehyung is quick to protest, “Wait! Can’t you just take a message to him from me so he knows that I’m here? I’ll wait.”

“This is ridiculous.” The guard trying to corral him scoffs. He tries to grab him again, but Taehyung moves away once more.

“The King said it was urgent that I get here!” Taehyung insists. He tries to think of any excuse that could help him, any lie that would get him past these guards. 

And then it hits him.

Pulling himself together, Taehyung stands with a certain air of false confidence, “It would be a shame if you not letting me in upsets him.”

Both guards tense at the mention of their King upset, the both of them having witnessed his temper before. Neither wanted to see their King angry again, and it showed on their faces. Taehyung considers it a win when the guard in front of him backs away with a narrowed gaze, “What’s your message?”

Taehyung is careful with his wording. He can’t outright say he is the Moon God, too many people would find out and then he’d have to deal with the higher deities coming after him. “Tell him that I read his prayer and I’m here to help. I’ll solve all of his problems just as he asked when the moon was full.” 

This excuse is just enough.

The guard in front of him scoffs, “This sounds like nothing of importance.” 

“Then your King won’t take long to turn me away.” He glares at Taehyung, but he enters the gates to deliver his message anyways. His companion steps in front of the two doors as they close, staring down at the God. 

It only takes what feels like a few moments - for Taehyung - before the Guard returns. He looks angry, but he sighs when he meets Taehyung’s gaze, “He’ll see you.”

The god walks with a bounce in his step as he follows after the disgruntled guard. He pays no mind to the man's emotions, his only focus on the palace around him. Many women and children walk the grounds in groups, somewhere the number of children overpower the adults. More guards walk at ease around them and more at ease than the one that guides him. None of them seem to even realize just how beautiful their home really is, but Taehyung is completely in awe of its beauty.

They come to a stop in front of a closed set of doors, the guard turning around to face Taehyung before he pushes one side open for the god to enter before him. The room is large, a high ceiling being held by long red pillars that line both sides of the room. The floor is covered in tile instead of wood like the hallway, the center tiles a different color and creates a path to the large throne that sits at the other end of the room. 

On top of this throne sits a man wearing deep red silks embroidered with gold. His dark hair sits in a bun on the top of his head with a gold piece holding it in place. On his lap is a closed book, resting between hands that tremble as they hold to his robes. With such beautiful silks and the elegance that radiates off his aura, this man is in no doubt the King that called to him.

When he notices Taehyung’s arrival, he stands from his throne, “Welcome-!” His book falls to his feet and the King scrambles to pick it up and place it on his throne. He clears his throat and fixes his posture, “I’ve been waiting for you.”

The guard next to Taehyung bows and he follows suit, careful not to step on his new clothes. When he stands tall again, Taehyung smiles, “I apologize for taking so long.”

“That’s quite alright.” The King assures him. He turns his attention to the guard at Taehyung’s side, “You may leave us.” The man bows his head and leaves, closing the door behind him and leaving the god and the King alone.

When Taehyung is sure no one else will hear them, he smiles, “I have to say, I’m very impressed with the way you humans have made your homes.” He looks around the walls of the room and the lanterns that bring light to it, “I have to admit, there’s much more light than I’m used to.”

Namjoon sighs in relief and places a hand over his heart, “So you really are the Moon Goddess-“ The title throws the god off guard. “-I was hoping I hadn’t misread the situation.”

“Uh...yes. I am the deity of the Moon.” Taehyung chuckles awkwardly, “I think there’s actually been a-”

“When I prayed the other night begging for your help, I thought I had finally gone crazy!” Namjoon makes slow steps off of his throne and to the brunette. He stops in front of him, standing just a few inches taller with a look of pure wonder and merriment, “But you’re here. You’re right here.” He reaches out to touch his shoulders but he stops himself, not wanting to offend the deity in front of him in any way, “Do Gods and Goddesses wear hanboks as well?”

“Not quite. We wear robes of silk in whatever form is most comfortable. I made this myself.” Taehyung turns from side to side, adding in a slow turn for the king to see the extent of his handiwork.

“Remarkable~” 

“Yes, I suppose it is. Now, about me being the Goddess-”

“Yes! Moon Goddess. I’m still letting it all sink in.” The king places a hand to his temple - almost as if scolding himself for possibly forgetting. He shakes his head with a pleased smile and returns his attention to the god, “You really shouldn’t have bothered with the guards.”

“Right, well, I didn’t have your exact location to find you. My magic really onl-”

“Magic?!” Namjoon repeats. The mention of magic seems to startle him more than the man being a god - or goddess in his own words, “Of course you would use magic. How else would you be able to come here to me? How does it work?”

“Oh...well, I- uh…” In the eons that Taehyung has existed, he’s never once thought about his powers as anything but just that. He’s never questioned having magic, he just knows that he can use it, he knows how he can use it, and that it can be finicky even for him. Not once has he ever considered there was more to it than that. “I’m not sure how to describe it.”

Namjoon nods, “That’s fair. I suppose it would be hard to explain something you’re born with.” 

“Speaking of things that we’re born with-”

“So, what’s your plan?” Namjoon asks, unintentionally interrupting the god before he does something to expose himself.

“My plan?” Taehyung repeats.

Namjoon nods, “You said you’d take care of all of my problems. I assume you have a plan.”

“Yes...A plan!” Taehyung tries to let the reminder of his words sink in, but off the top of his head, he can’t remember creating a real plan. “I do have a plan.” 

On his trip down, he never considered that he’d need a real plan. He only planned to help him out and leave. It didn’t cross his mind that he should probably make a plan before meeting with a human king.

Something for him to remember in the future.

Taehyung thinks for a moment. He ignores the impatient stare that Namjoon gives him, and racks his brain for anything that could possibly help him obtain what he wants.

And then it hits him.

“A necklace!” He announces, “I’ll make one to attract your soulmate.”

“My soulmate?” Namjoon repeats with furrowed brows, “I don’t understand.”

“When the universe was born and all of the planets came along with it, the humans of Earth were created as well.” Taehyung gestures for the king to follow him to the back of his throne room where the large window resides, “The Earth God once told me that his humans were more focused on survival and protecting the other half born to them than worshiping him. He got so angry with them that he took it upon himself to split them apart.” 

Outside Namjoon’s window, he can see into the garden of his palace. There are a few stragglers that still bring in baskets of goods, and some who walk slow to enjoy the fresh air, “He forced them to live their lives searching for their other half and worshiping him and the gifts he gave them.”

“That’s so sad.”

“Yeah, he made Fate angry that day.” Taehyung can still hear Fate’s cries of rage and anguish she threw at his friend that day. If she weren’t a peaceful entity, then she probably would have knocked him around too, “She nearly stripped him of his power against the higher council, but they gave him another chance.”

Namjoon nods, taking in the information the god has given him with practiced poise. He takes a look into his own garden and thinks about all of his friends and his people that spend their days working and looking for love, “Why would he do that?”

“I think - because he’s so lively and outgoing, and he has such a huge responsibility - that he doesn’t understand his humans as much as he likes to think he does.” Taehyung can’t help but think of where his friend could be at this very moment. ‘They’re just humans, Taehyung, if one dies then Life brings me another.’ His friend once told him with a shrug, as if his humans weren’t the most interesting and complicated creatures he was tasked to take care of, “To him, he has so many of you to choose from. So, he just does whatever he wants.”

“But you’ll bring mine to me?”

“I will.”

“When do we get started?”

Namjoon’s question takes a minute for Taehyung to answer. Given the circumstances he won’t know any different what he says, but even so, this process is one the god has never tried before, “I can start as soon as tomorrow.”

“Is there anything I can do for you? Food, water, ingredients?”

“No, food and water are trivial for me.” Taehyung waves the offer away. Food and water were human resources, things he could have but didn’t truly need. His biggest problem would be to stay in hiding, “However, you shouldn’t tell anyone else about who I really am.”

“No?”

“Gods and Goddesses only visit humans so often when called. Others will get jealous and take it out on you. I don’t want that to happen.” Not a lie, but not the truth. It’s better that way anyways.

“I can say you’re a new advisor. An excuse to stay within my palace and be near me.” Namjoon offers, earning an appreciative nod from the god, “Do you have a name? What should I call you?”

“Call me...Jihye.” Taehyung smiles. His new female persona will work nice while he stays with the humans, “Jihye will do just fine.”

---

For two weeks, Taehyung has spent everyday using as much magic as he can to create the necklace he promised Namjoon. At first, he wasn’t sure exactly how he would complete it. To attract a soulmate you have to have a piece of them. With no clue where Namjoon’s soulmate was, or even a way to find them, he had to think of anything that would help him.

And then he had a thought.

Two halves of the same soul. Namjoon still has a connection with his soulmate even if they were separated from him. The smallest drop of his blood on a rock from his home would help the God to attract the other half ten-fold. Namjoon was more than willing to provide anything that would help him. Now, with glittering pink gems created from Namjoon’s blood as his soulmate’s heart, Taehyung just has to wait for the effects to take place.

“Lady Jihye?” A servant calls from the hall. Taehyung calls out for her to come in and she enters, “You have a visitor.”

He smiles, “You can let them in, thank you.” She nods her head and backs out of his room.

Against his better judgement, Taehyung allowed himself to take on this Jihye persona. It wouldn’t look right if he only spoke to the King and snuck around to speak to him. As long as no one knows he’s the Moon God - or Goddess as Namjoon knows him as - then he’d be alright.

Another knock is placed on the door before it opens up to reveal the same servant, “This way, ma’am.”

“Thank you.” Taehyung freezes. 

It’s been so long since he’d last been to a council meeting, but he’d never forget the sound of your voice. You were always present and always checking in. He should have never doubted your ability to find people.

When you step past the servant in your own hanbok similar to his - this one purple and pink with white accents - you’re sure to meet his eye with a stare that could make Death weep. In the centuries it had been since he'd seen you, you had let your hair grow longer. It pulled your outfit together in a nice updo he had seen the other woman wearing around the palace. It would seem you had done your research before you came to see him.

When his door closes and it’s just the two of you, he sends you a nervous smile, “(Y/n)!” He spreads his arms for a hug, but your expression remains unimpressed.

“Taehyung.”

He puts his arms down when he realizes you aren’t going to greet him, “What are you doing here?” 

“The real question is what are you doing here, Taehyung?” You ask.

“Uh…” He takes a moment, “Sight-seeing?”

You don't acknowledge his obvious lie, “Really? Then tell me why two strings have converged.”

“Uh...fate?” You give him a look, almost as if daring to even try and explain that one. His shoulders drop, “You’re not buying it.”

“No, I’m not.” You say, “What do you think you’re doing, Taehyung?”

“I’m trying out this wonderful women’s hanbok. They’re actually very comfortable, I don’t see why the men don’t wear them instead-” He attempts to turn and spin for you to show off the fabric that lays against his skin, but you interrupt him.

“Taehyung! I don’t care about the clothing!” You yell. You take a moment to calm yourself, moving forward and keeping your voice down for any listening ears, “I want to know what you think you’re doing messing around with Fate’s work! My work!”

“What I can!” He says, “Namjoon is just lonely and he wants the comfort of his soulmate.”

“Soulmates are not for you to mess with! Did you learn nothing when I raked Jimin across the coals?” You ask, reminding him of the selfish deity with only himself in mind, “I took responsibility over his humans for a reason!”

“I didn’t assign him a new one!” Taehyung explains, trying his best to defend himself and his decisions.

“But you’re messing with their timeline! It is not time for them to meet yet, and you-” You reach over to his dresser where the shining jewels rest hidden underneath it’s cloth. He hid them there from anyone that may enter his room, but none of their eyes see as much as yours. You pluck one from the pile and shove it in his face, “creating these demon jewels will only cause trouble!”

“You don’t know that!”

“I see it all!” You remind him. You put the jewel back where it belongs and resort to pressing your finger into his chest, “These humans are mine to deal with, Taehyung. I won’t stand for you interfering with my responsibility.”

Taehyung hangs his head. He doesn’t understand why you won’t just let him do this one thing. It’s only two humans, there’s no need for everyone to make such a fuss over it. When he brings Namjoon and his soulmate together, then they’ll all see just how important this necklace really is. 

When you remove your finger from his chest, he looks up, “Why can’t they just be happy sooner?”

You know better than anyone what it’s like when others mess with fate. You remember how bad Jimin messed up like it was yesterday, and it’s made your job as a deity that much harder to deal with. The other’s just don’t understand what your job entails, and it seems there’s only one way they’ll all learn. 

You meet Taehyung’s eyes, “You really want to know why?” You ask

“Yes.”

“Fine.” You put your hands up in surrender and take a step back, “I’ll let you play your little matchmaking game, but don’t come crying to me when you realize what you’ve done.” You walk all the way back to the door you had come through. Before you leave, you look to Taehyung one last time, “Do you understand?”

With all the power in him, Taehyung nods, “Trust me, I won’t.”

As you leave, Taehyung is unsure if he’s really making the right decision, but he has no time to second guess himself. The only thing he can do now is wait for the gems to finish and complete the necklace before Namjoon’s soulmate would become fully attracted to it.

---

“So, this is it?” Namjoon asks.

In his hands he holds the delicate pink jewels and silver stones strung together with gold. Taehyung had finished it that morning and waited all day for Namjoon to finish with his official business before he showed it to the King. The both of them have been so excited for this day, and now it was here.

“This is it.” Taehyung unwraps the cloth from around his creation and presents it to the king, “This necklace will attract your soulmate and bring them to you.”

“Wonderful.”Namjoon takes the necklace in his hands, holding the object as gingerly as he can. His eyes take in every last detail, and he seems very pleased with the god’s work.

“Can I ask you a question, Jihye?”

“Ask away.”

“Why are you helping me?” Namjoon meets his eye, but it doesn’t ease the god’s confusion, “You said Gods and Goddess’ very rarely help humans when they ask for it. So why help me?”

“I guess I felt a lot like you.” Taehyung admits. He’d felt so lonely and like his purpose was wasteful sitting up on his planet, wasting his days daydreaming in silence. “When you’re the deity of something as insignificant as the moon, you grow lonely. Being here to help you through this makes me feel important.”

Namjoon places a reassuring hand on Taehyung’s shoulder, “Moon Goddess or no Moon Goddess, you’re pretty important to me.” The king’s smile is bright and comforting. It’s one of his more refining qualities as a king, and it’s something he’s noticed throughout his time in the palace. “It may seem silly, but I’d like to believe we’ve become friends.”

“Friends?” Taehyung repeats. Namjoon nods and Taehyung smiles, “I like that. Friends are unbreakable.”

“Oh! Speaking of breakables, what if someone breaks the necklace before my soulmate finds me?” The King asks.

“Impossible. The only way this necklace will break is if you and your loved one agree to break the bond.” Taehyung assures him. He had made sure to include that back door in his planning process. He couldn’t let anyone tear his project apart, and that included one singular half of the pair, “You’re stuck with them for eternity.”

“Just like friends.” Namjoon says, casually throwing in the similarity with a fond smile, “It sounds amazing.”

“It will be.”

It should have been.

A few days after Taehyung had finished the necklace, Namjoon fell ill. At first, it seemed like a simple cold, but the King only seemed to grow weaker as days continued to pass. There were times where in the morning he’d be able to walk around the palace garden, and by the afternoon he was bed ridden until lunch the next day. Some days, nobody would see his majesty at all.

The King’s practitioner’s tried their best to keep him fed and hydrated, but no medicine they had was able to do the trick. They could only give him remedies to take away the pain until whatever it was passed or the King went with it peacefully.

Knowing that Namjoon - someone he had become so close to - was on the brink of meeting a friend of his, Taehyung couldn’t sit himself still. When no one was watching, he ran off to the far edge of the palace hunting grounds. He ran as fast as his legs would carry him until he reached the stream Namjoon had shown him.

“(Y/n)!” He yells, crying into the wind, “(Y/n), I know you can hear me!”

“What?” You told him not to come crying to you, yet here he was interrupting your duties. He acts as though you aren’t busy with problems of your own. Yet against your own judgement, you appear behind him with a fixed appearance.

“What’s happening to him? Why is Namjoon sick?” He asks, turning to you filled with fury and sadness. He takes notice of the clothing you changed into, “Why are you wearing men’s clothing?”

You look down to the blue and white hanbok you had seen some of the palace guards wearing and shrug, “Oh, so you can walk around in women’s clothing but I can’t appreciate the design of men’s?”

The god shakes his head, “Nevermind. Tell me what’s wrong with him.”

“He’s sick.”

“I know he’s sick. Why is he sick? Why is he so weak and losing his hair?!” He demands. 

You cross your arms over your chest, “I told you what would happen if you mess with fate.” 

“No. You only said not to come crying to you.” 

“Yet here you are.” Taehyung’s face contorts from anger to hurt and you look away from him to the trees that surround you. You sigh, “Look, I see the future and hold it in my hands-” To prove your point you hold out your hands to show the miniature galaxy that forms between your palms, an infinite number of strings tied to your fingers, “-and when you go around playing with something you shouldn’t then it plays back.”

“Then fix it!”

“I don’t think you get it, Taehyung. I. Can’t. Fix. This!” You let your mini-galaxy dissolve away and advance towards the quivering man before you. Even with his lesson being thrown right in his face, he still doesn’t understand. You use both hands to cup his cheeks, holding him there so he’s forced to look at you, “You’ve doomed their fate, and now they pay the price.”

The hurt that swims in his golden irises bubbles over in hot tears, “This isn’t what I wanted.”

He had tried so hard to make everything perfect. All he wanted to do was help humans and be important like other deities. Just like Namjoon, he doesn’t want to be alone anymore. But what is he supposed to do now that Namjoon is sick beyond repair?

“I tried to warn you.” 

In your opinion, a God like Taehyung needs to be monitored more carefully. He - and other planets such as dwarves - would never be able to understand the responsibility that comes with the universe. They’re much too close to humans, far too close to temptation. They’ll learn to feel what the humans feel, and then they’re doomed to be just as destructive. That’s what happened to Jimin, and it’s already influencing him.

“Now you must learn your lesson.” You pull away from the brunette, ready to leave him there and return to your duties. 

“Isn’t there anything I can do?” Taehyung asks, stopping you before you can even think of moving. With all of your knowledge, Taehyung knows there has to be other options, other paths he can choose before Namjoon’s downfall is the only one left. You just had to tell him. “What are there- maybe 12 outcomes?!”

Of course, you do know what’s to come. Two outcomes were likely about to happen in the coming weeks, and you have to prepare for them both before the time arrives. Either way, both will destroy Taehyung to a point that you don’t know if he’ll return. You can only guide him to the better of the two.

“Destroy the necklace or don’t let them meet until after he’s dead. Those are your options.” You turn your back to Taehyung, unable to meet his eye any longer. However, Taehyung isn’t finished with you.

“What do you mean ‘those are my options’?! Where are you going?!” He cries, still heartbroken and confused over the ultimatum you had given him.

The last thing you want to do is hurt Taehyung, but sometimes the harsh truth is what someone needs the most, “To do my job. Maybe you should learn to do yours.”

Taehyung didn’t take your words lightly. He did his job, but not the one he was born to do. 

No.

He worked even harder to help Namjoon find his soulmate. He refused to destroy his hard work, and he definitely wasn’t going to let Namjoon die before he got the chance to see his true love. 

Namjoon, however, wasn’t as sure as Taehyung that he would get to that point.

“I know you’re-” Namjoon lets out a wet cough, “-you’re working hard, Jihye. But I don’t think I’ll get there.”

Taehyung shakes his head, cutting through another piece of hair at the top on the king’s head, “You will. I know you will.”

“How can you be so sure?” He asks sleepily.

“I just have this feeling.”

“And if your feeling is wrong?”

Taehyung has been pushing the possibility of failure as far away as he possibly can. He didn’t want to ever consider his plan a lost cause. If he did that, then that would mean Namjoon is a lost cause, and Namjoon is anything but that.

“Then I’ll wait everyday for your soulmate to come to you.” Taehyung assures him. 

“That won’t do me any good if I’m dead.” Namjoon reminds him. Taehyung pushes the remark aside and instead focuses on combing through the king’s hair, “They’d be talking to a skeleton.”

Taehyung shakes his head, “I’m sure I could figure something out.”

“You know...I read that the Egyptians would-” He coughs, “-mummify their dead.”

The suggestion makes the god stop. He had never considered that other humans may have ways to preserve their dead, “Do you really think that will work?”

“I don’t think we have anything to lose.”

At Namjoon’s request, Taehyung ordered palace guards to search for someone who could perform the procedure. He ordered them to move fast and to not waste anytime. The sooner they could find a doctor knowledgeable in the art, the sooner he’d be able to decide if turning his friend into a mummy was the way to go.

The last thing Taehyung expected was for Namjoon’s soulmate to show up as the doctor performing his procedure.

He didn’t notice the connection right away. She was quiet and straight to the point, she didn’t leave any room for Taehyung to notice anything right away. But when he brought her to the infirmary to familiarize herself with the room, is when he noticed the string that seemed to hang off of her hand. She herself hadn’t even noticed the string pulling at her smallest finger. It was as if the string was a ghost and only Taehyung had an interest in it.

By the time it came for her to meet the King himself, Taehyung had already come up with a plan to get her to touch the necklace. He didn’t care if you had told him not to do it until after. In his mind, the sooner Namjoon and his soulmate could be together the better.

If only he could’ve had her touch the necklace a moment sooner. In between the guards rushing her out of the room and Namjoon’s shallow breathing, Taehyung could see you outside of the room watching it all unfold from the corridor. You look content, far too content for someone that just witnessed true love slip away from one another. Your contempt made him angry, but he had to ignore you for Namjoon’s sake. 

Unfortunately, Taehyung had needed a miracle.

Later that same night, Namjoon said his last parting words: “Watch over them for me.”

Unbeknownst to the King, he had already met his soulmate. She was just down the hall and under heavy guard. Even after his body and possessions were placed before her to begin the process, the King’s necklace was kept under close watch by his guard. Taehyung had tried so hard to remind the guard that Namjoon had wanted his necklace by his side at all times, but none of them would listen to him.

Because of that, Namjoon’s soulmate - Choi Eunha - left to return home. Namjoon himself was sealed inside of a tomb beneath his palace, and Taehyung was left to mourn the loss of friend.

It was raining the day you were sent to retrieve him. The King’s tomb had just been sealed and many palace servants had already dispersed to return to their own lives. The only person left was Taehyung, resting in a deep bow he had brought all the way to the ground. His forehead rests against the stone of the tomb, and it takes everything you have not to rip the god away from it.

You come to stand beside him, stopping just in front of the tomb's sealed entrance in the palace garden, “I tried to warn you.”

Taehyung shakes his head, “They were so close…”

“It wasn’t going to end how you had hoped.”

Taehyung’s head snaps from his mournful position to you, “You don’t know that!” He cries.

His eyes are red and puffy, and the streaks from the tears he shed paint his cheeks. His lip quivers in both anger and sadness, and you can only look at him in pity, “Taehyung, we’ve been over this.”

Taehyung turns himself around so his back rests against the king’s door. He hangs his head, “Just go away and leave me be. Haven’t you done enough?”

You feel a twinge of guilt, but you push it aside. You weren’t here to be his friend, you’re here to do a job, “I can’t. I’m supposed to bring you to the council.”

“Can’t this wait?”

You sigh, “Humans have made you soft, Taehyung.” You place a hand on his shoulder, but he grabs your wrist and pulls it away from him.

“The humans haven’t made me anything!” He protests, “It’s normal to feel sad over the loss of a friend.” Mourning is all he’d done since he last spoke to the king. Since he last saw him smile, close his eyes, take a single breath, all Taehyung has done is mourn the loss of one of the best friends he’s known. 

But of course you wouldn’t understand. To you, humans are expendable beings incapable of doing anything beneficial for the universe. You were just as heartless as you’ve always been, and that’s something even Taehyung couldn’t fix, “Maybe more people would like you if you showed a little compassion.”

It shouldn’t hit you as hard as it does, but his words hurt more than you ever thought they would. Not only that, but they’re completely unnecessary. Here you are treating him with more kindness than you should be giving him, and he’s insulting you in return. 

You pull your hand away, “I don’t have to be nice to you, Taehyung. I’m already giving you the option to move of your own free will.”

“Oh, wow, the bare minimum.” Taehyung says sarcastically. He flashes you a fake smile and from a flower that lays next to him, he creates a small pile of coins, “Do you want an award.”

“You want to be an ass? Fine. I can be one too.” You grab Taehyung by the front of his clothes and pull up. Together, you travel from Earth to Star 13, the meeting place of the deities. 

A large opaque building held strong by blue, iridescent columns. Inside where you stand, is a singular room with large marble chairs placed in a circle. Each chair but 2 are filled, a very rare occurrence for a normal meeting. At the designated ‘front’ of the circle are the 6 chairs of the high ranking deities. Universe at the center, Life and Death on each shoulder, an empty chair and Cosmos beside them, and Galaxy and Sun on the remaining sides. These 6 make up the Higher Authority within the council.

You let go of Taehyung and allow him to fall to the floor on his own, the god only catching himself on his elbows. You cross your arms and nod to the council in front of you, “Council members (Y/n) and Moon God Taehyung.”

The members of the council nod their heads in acknowledgment, but only 1 speaks, “Welcome, we’ve been waiting for the two of you.” Universe - Hui -  greets. His smile radiates calm, but his aura radiates anything but. He gestures to the empty chair next to Life, “(Y/n) please take your seat. Moon, please take the center of the circle.”

Taehyung nods and stands from his position on the floor, watching with distaste as you walk away from him to your own chair. He dusts himself off and tries to present himself better than his initial entrance, “Moon God Taehyung, reporting for council.”

“Council Member Juhyun.”

Juhyun - Deity of the galaxy stands from his chair, “We the council have been forced to acknowledge the destructive actions brought upon mere humans by Moon God Taehyung. It has come to our attention that you have not only abandoned your position for weeks, but you have tampered with soulmate strings of Fate. Is this information true?”

“Yes.”

Juhyun nods, “Would the council member please explain his reasoning for tampering with Fate’s strings?”

“Do I need any more reason besides love?” Taehyung asks, his brows furrowed in confusion. If there was one thing life on Earth had taught him, it was that love was the most powerful force. Love could make a tough man weak and weak man strong.

Bora - Goddess of the cosmos - scoffs, “Deities do not partake in love.”

“The council will need a better reason.” Juhyun says. 

Taehyung looks to the council with a blank stare. In his mind, he tries to fathom how those with so much power can’t possibly see the benefits of love. He doesn’t understand how they can hear about 2 people in love who are connected by Fate and see an issue of pulling them together. Even Fate herself can’t see it! 

Hoseok - Death himself tilts his head in confusion, “Nothing?”

“Maybe his own selfish desires…” Yoongi mumbles to himself, the bitterness of Life seeping through. 

“If the council member Moon has no explanation then we will move forward.” Hui announces, silencing the background conversations. He turns to you, “(Y/n), any suggestions for punishment?”

You turn your attention to Hui and back to Taehyung. Discipline has been at the forefront of your mind since you first saw Taehyung’s own string of Fate cross and pull against those of humans. The anger you feel from him now is the anger you’ve felt for the past weeks that he’s been messing around. In your opinion, he has no right to be so upset with you for doing your job, but his opinion of you having no compassion is entirely inaccurate. 

“I think council member Moon has had enough punishment.” You say, taking everyone by surprise. The last time someone messed with Fate’s strings, you were all but popping a blood vessel. Hoseok and Yoongi were both so worried, they thought they might have to assign a new deity. 

Juhyun sits in his chair and leans over to speak with you, “Are you sure?” He asks

“Yeah, are you okay?” Yoongi adds in.

You nod, “I would like to suggest restricted access to humans and the destruction of the imposing necklace.” You turn to Hui, ignoring the hard glare being sent your way from the offending god, “I don’t want this to happen again, but from what I’ve seen, I believe he understands what he’s done was wrong.”

“Is there anyone within the council that disagrees?” Hui addresses the council, but no one argues. Whether it’s from shock that you weren’t harder on the Moon God or the fact that no one wanted to be there for very long, who knows. “Juhyun.”

Juhyun stands, “Based on the testimony of council member (Y/n) - Fate herself - he should not receive major punishment. He will, however, be sent back to Earth to destroy the necklace before it does any more damage. He will also no longer be allowed to roam Earth as he pleases, and Council Member Earth will inform the council if this punishment is not fulfilled. Is there any reason this punishment should not take place?”

No one argues and Hui continues, “Would Council Member Moon like to add anything before we make the final judgement?” 

“Council Member Moon!” Taeyang shouts.

“No.”

“The Galactic Council has spoken. Meeting adjourned.”

The other members of council are quick to disappear, but Taehyung lingers. He’s never felt so numb, and he doesn’t understand why he feels this way. He suspects this is what loss feels like. Instead of a lonely sadness, it feels like a piece of himself has been ripped away and there’s nothing he can do to get it back except wait.

When he’s escorted to Earth to grab the necklace and destroy it, he can’t stop himself from hesitating. In front of him is the last piece of Namjoon he has left. If he destroys it, then the likelihood of him ever seeing Namjoon would fall away completely.

And then there’s Namjoon’s last words: “Watch over them for me.”

What kind of friend would he be to go back on his word? If friendships were for eternity, then how could he ever bring himself to stab his friend in the back even in the afterlife? The answer? He wouldn’t.

He couldn’t.

He makes his decision as soon as Jimin calls out to check on him, “Taehyung, did you find it?” 

“Yeah!” Instead of destroying the necklace he created, he pockets it. He takes another piece of jewelry from the altar and crushes it beneath his feet, breaking it just as they’d want him to break the necklace. That is what he hands to his friend on his way out, ignoring the sad smile he offers.

He didn’t need it.

He has the necklace.

As long as he keeps the necklace with him, then he’ll find Eunha again. He’ll find her and he’ll bring her and Namjoon together no matter what. Even if it takes centuries, he’ll wait as long as it takes to keep his promise to Namjoon.

*

*

*

Taehyung spent hundreds of years sitting alone on his space rock, holding close to him the only piece he had left of a friend and a responsibility he couldn’t fulfill. Every moment he spent alone he went over every detail that went wrong in his head. He tore himself apart over things that could have gone better and what he could’ve done differently. But in every single scenario, he refused to give up on Namjoon.

You had tried to come and see him every decade or so, just to make sure that he himself was doing okay, but Taehyung would always sneak away to the dark side of his planet. It seemed like your presence was more damaging to him than the silence. You knew he’d be upset, but you never expected it to be so severe. A part of you didn’t want him to be alone, even if it had been awhile since the incident. But there was nothing you could do if he didn’t want to see you.

It wasn’t like Taehyung wasn’t used to solitude. Even before his restrictions he was always lonely more often than not. For him, he’s just gone back to his normal life. He even went back to listening to the humans again.

It took him quite a few decades to even get used to hearing humans again, and then a few more to listen to what they were saying. Not many asked for him, though there were a handful more than he had ever received before. It made him feel better, and those few calls to him over Jimin really kept him a float during his wait.

And then he heard it.

It was quiet at first, but Taehyung was able to make out the sloppy conversation of a child.

“...4, 5, 6, 7…” There’s a slight pause to the voice, “What comes after 7?”

Taehyung stifles a laugh. He’s never had a child talk to him before. The last children he’d been able to talk to were the children at Namjoon’s palace, and they went to him in hopes that he would play.

“You have a lot of stars by you. Momma says the stars are angels. Momma also says you have a Goddess and a man living there. Is that true?” The little girl asks. 

It would seem Namjoon’s influence wore off on everyone else. He’d forever be known as the Moon Goddess Taehyung and not the Moon God. And now there was a man on his planet as well? Probably a human tale or something along those lines.

“You’re quiet...” The girl says, coming to the conclusion herself, “Do you ever talk?”

He shouldn’t do it. 

He shouldn’t give into the temptation again, but he doesn’t want to leave someone so cute waiting for him to answer.

With the confidence that he can stay hidden long enough, Taehyung appears for her. With a more practiced accuracy than with Namjoon’s, he lands in the little girls room on her bed, “Did you want me to talk?”

The small child turns fast away from her window, her pigtails swinging behind her, “Are you the man on the moon? Your clothes are old.”

“Do you like them?” He asks, looking down at the clothes he had modeled after the ones he had worn on Earth during his previous visit, “What’s your name?”

“Choi Eunha! I’m 5!” The little girl states proudly.

The sound of her name stops Taehyung in his tracks. On instinct, he grabs the necklace in his pocket and pulls it out to see the glowing gems. Unknowingly, he had found her again. He didn’t even have to try. As if by the will of Fate, she found him.

Taehyung puts his necklace away, “Really? 5?! You’re a big girl, aren’t you?” She nods happily and Taehyung smiles, “I think you and I are going to be best friends, Eunha.”

From the ages of 5 to 8, Taehyung spent his time as Eunha’s imaginary friend. He’d follow her to and from elementary school, he’d help her get snacks and teach her about the stars. When she grew away from imaginary friends, he settled for watching her from afar. In a way, he became her guardian, and he made sure she had everything she needed to remain happy and healthy.

When it came time for her to start high school, Taehyung realized that watching from the wings wouldn’t get anywhere. If he wanted to make sure Eunha and Namjoon would come to meet, he’d have to interfere. But this time, he won’t do it alone.

“So, what are we doing again?” Jeongguk asks.

The young dwarf planet’s god and Taehyung were both dressed up in more modern, human fashion, walking down a busy street packed with humans wearing little-to-no clothing. Taehyung had already explained to him before they left what they were doing, but Jeongguk just wasn’t picking up on it.

Something he should’ve considered before recruiting him, but it was far too late to send him back.

“We’re meeting Jimin, remember?” Taehyung asks.

That seems to jog his memory, “Oh yeah. Do you really think we’ll find him with all of these people?”

Taehyung nods, “I’m sure of it.”

Both men glide past the bouncer, using a bit of magic to slide through. In a setting like this, no one will notice the two of them appearing out of thin air. The only thing they had to worry about was pushing their way to Jimin.

“Jimin?” Jeongguk grabs someone passing by, turning them to see that they’re not Jimin at all. He pulls his hand back, “Sorry...Jimin?!” He yells again, finding another look-a-like.

Taehyung stops him before he goes chasing after every human he sees, “Jeongguk! Not everyone is going to be Jimin.”

“Well, how else do you expect to find him?”

Loud shrieks from various women burst from the crowd somewhere in front of them and Taehyung shakes his head, “Just follow the screaming.”

The younger god follows after Taehyung in confusion, allowing the eldest to lead him through the crowd. The two come to a stop on the sidelines of what looks like a small dance circle, a pink haired man clad in leather pressed up against a woman. His cheek is pressed against hers and his hands rest lightly on her waist.

“I don’t see Jimin.” The blue haired man scans the crowd around them, but he doesn’t see anything but women circling them. Taehyung sighs and grabs Jeongguk’s chin, guiding him back to the man in the middle. “Oh…”

The bubblegum pink dancer throws his head back with a smile and turns to look over the crowd. His eyes don’t take long to land on the two gods at the edge of the circle, and Jimin’s smile turns into a smirk.

When Jimin leaves his partner and walks towards them, Taehyung thinks he’s come to greet him so they can talk privately. What he doesn’t expect is for his friend to grab him by the waistline of his pants and pull him into the center of the crowd. The screams of the women around them nearly burst his eardrums - something he never thought possible. He looks back to check on Jeongguk, but the poor man is already surrounded and frozen in fear.

“You know-” Jimin pulls Taehyung’s hips against his, bringing the two of them closer. He leans in with a salacious smile, “-I knew you couldn’t stay away.”

Taehyung remains unfazed by Jimin’s actions, “That’s kinda my job. I’m supposed to stay by you.”

Jimin pats Taehyung’s cheek, “We both know exactly what I’m talking about.” He turns his back to the purple haired man and presses himself into him, throwing his head back, “So, what did you do with it?”

“The necklace?”

“No, your girl parts.” Jimin pats his thigh, “Of course I’m talking about the necklace.” 

Tae leans down to Jimin’s ear, “Not until we finish talking, I’ll just let you know that I have it with me.”

“What? You think I’m going to run to the council?” The pink haired man intertwined his fingers with Taehyung’s, raising them in the air and sways his hips against him, “If I was going to do that, I would’ve told them the minute you decided not to destroy the necklace.”

Taehyung spins Jimin around to face him, their arms crossing over each other, “You knew this whole time?”

“Honey, I wrote the book.” Jimin pulls his hands from Taehyung’s grasp and gently places one on his hip, trailing the other up the man’s chest until it rests at the base of his throat, “I knew you got too close when we got to the tomb, but I wasn’t about to confront you.”

“Will you help me then?” Taehyung asks, completely unfazed.

Jimin lets his hand linger for a few moments longer before he pulls away with a sigh, “I love being raked across the coals by a strong woman just like any other man, but to cross (Y/n) is to dance with the devil.”

“Devil?”

“A human thing.”

Jimin turns himself back around to continue his dancing, circling his hips as he lowers himself to the floor in front of Taehyung. He watches him move down and up, but his focus isn’t on his body, “I just need you to keep an eye on Eunha.”

He stops in front of him and turns with a mischievous smile, “What does this entail~?”

“Becoming her friend and nothing but her friend.”

“You know every friend has done it once.” Jimin says with a wink.

“We haven’t.”

“We can change that.”

Taehyung places a hand on his friend’s arm, “Are you going to help or not?” 

“Yeah, sure. What more could the council do to me?” The pink haired man shrugs. He seems to let his decision settle before his content smile turns into a wide grin, “Just one thing though.”

“What?”

Before he can do anything, Jimin grabs Taehyung by his collar and pulls him down for a sloppy kiss. He takes both Taehyung and the crowd by surprise. What he says when he pulls away only makes it worse, “I take card too.”

“We’ll talk later.” 

With a blank expression, Taehyung turns around to leave. He spots Jeongguk right where he had left him, swarmed by women dancing up against him. His hands rest flat on his chest and his eyes are somehow even wider than they had been when he’d been pulled away.  

Taehyung pushes his way through the women and grabs one of the younger god’s hands to pull him away, “C’mon Jeongguk.” The blue haired man silently follows after him, his movements stiff. The once hyper young man is now dragging his feet behind him. 

Taehyung stops them by the bar, “Jeongguk? You okay?” He asks.

His wide doe-like eyes meet Taehyung’s, “I have seen the ways of God...”

“Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me!”

It’s late into the next afternoon before the two of them join Jimin in his apartment. Per the man’s request, they both waited long enough for any “guests” to leave before showing up. However, the woman that waves at them on their way out indicates that they didn’t wait long enough.

Jimin greets them at the door wearing a white robe and a chute of wine in his hand, “You’re early.”

Taehyung shakes his head and slides past him, “It’s 5 o’clock in the afternoon.”

“Really?” Jimin lets Jeongguk pass him before closing his door. The two visiting stop to take off their shoes as Jimin slips past them and takes a swig, “I think I’m losing my game...”

“Game?” Jeongguk asks, one hand against the wall to hold him up as he takes off his shoes, 

Jimin raises his glass to the air, “My game!”

“What kind of game are you play-ING!” Jeongguk slips, falling forward to his knees on the wood flooring of Jimin’s apartment.

“Can we just talk about the plan?” Taehyung begs.

Jimin sighs, “Look, I don’t know about the two of you, but I already have a secret identity. I’m not really looking to change that.” He walks to his kitchen and pulls out a bottle of wine to refill his empty glass.

Before he can pour himself a new glass, Taehyung grabs the bottle out of his hand, “You can’t live this lifestyle forever. You have to change it again at some point.”

“But now? Taehyung, do you know how great my life is right now?” Jimin gestures to the apartment around them, pointing out the view, the gorgeous furniture, and the great layout. It was a homeowners dream to have what Jimin has now, and Taehyung can see why he’d be reluctant to change it up and relocate.

Taehyung sighs, “I’m sure all the women you sleep with-”

“-And men!” Jeongguk adds firmly, standing next to the Moon God. 

Taehyung looks at him and then Jimin, but the Earth God just shrugs and smirks, “...and men you sleep with are great and all, but you said it yourself. You’re losing your game.” 

The neighboring planets stare at each other for a while until Jimin reluctantly agrees, “Fine.” He puts his hand out and motions towards his wine bottle, “Give me my wine.”

Taehyung hands it over and leans against the counter, “The question is, how do we create new identities?”

Jimin pours a steady stream into his glass, “You both literally can create whatever you want.”

“To an extent.” 

“I’ll make and get you what you need.” He passes his filled chute to Jeongguk and takes a swig straight from the bottle, “The real question is how do we get close to Eunbi?”

“Eunha.”

“Whatever. How do we keep an eye on her?”

“In three years she’ll be going to college for Astronomy in Seoul. Now, she really enjoyed the museum downtown when she was little-” Jeongguk passes his empty chute to Jimin and he refills the glass for him, “Her parents brought her there every summer and with the observatory they have there, I think she’ll try and get a job there.”

“Are you sure?” Jimin asks, unimpressed with the current plan.

Jeongguk slides his empty glass to the middle of the counter again, “Yeah. How do you know she’ll even move to the city?”

“I know her.” Taehyung assures them with a proud smile, “Her dream school is up here, and she’ll need a job she can enjoy to go with it.”

Jimin takes another large swig of his wine before he chuckles, “We’re going to get in a lot of trouble if we get caught.”

“Like you said, what else could the council possibly do?”

“Make fun of us?” Jeongguks adds, his words slightly slurred from the 3 - more like 4 - glasses of wine.

The two look at each other and take a mirrored breath. This was going to be a long 3 years.

---

Jimin goes to great lengths to assimilate both unknowing gods to modern life on his planet. With the limited amount of time they have before Eunha graduates and goes to college, they spend most of their days reading up on the past 1000 years. Jimin makes suggestions on what they should read and things that are more important than others. However, his favorite topic to learn and teach about can’t be found in any book.

Social interactions are what Jimin enjoys the most. More than anything, Jimin wants to be out on the town and meeting new people. He wants to take in every human he meets and learn as much as he can about them in such a short amount of time. Their needs, wants, and thoughts are all so different and trivial, yet he can’t help himself by wanting to learn more. Jimin is more than happy to show his ways to his friends.

Taehyung is not as excited.

“Why are we here?” Taehyung asks, adjusting the unusually tight striped pants Jimin had forced him into. He’s thankful his friend was kind enough to give him a loose shirt and jacket, but he could really do without the fabric clinging to his skin.

“You’re going to learn how to interact with humans. Starting with not fixing yourself in public!” The pink haired casanova smacks Taehyung’s hand, not caring what he hits alongside it. Taehyung retracts back and Jimin sighs, “How did you ever manage to convince people you were a woman?”

“Because I already know how to interact with humans.”

“Not these humans.” The Earth deity slips his fingers under his suspenders, smoothing them out over his white button-down. He sticks his hands in the pockets of his red pants, “Humans have changed a lot since the last time you’ve been here, Taehyung. You may think you know about them, but you have no clue.”

“So why is Jeongguk here?” Taehyung points in the direction of the young deity behind them, still staring at the X’s on the back of his hand under the long sleeves of his red and black cardigan. A group of women pass in front of him, and both men watch as the young man’s eyes widen and he steps back.

Jimin slaps a hand against Taehyung’s back, “If you want Jeongguk to actually be able to help, then he needs to learn not to freeze every time a woman gets within 5 feet from him.” 

“Okay, I’ll give you that one,” Taehyung admits in defeat, “I just don’t see why you can’t tell us how.”

“Saying and doing are two very different things my friend.”

“Oh, I couldn’t agree more.” The two men turn around, knowing the sound of your voice all too well. Their eyes widen when they notice the outfit you chose. Tight fitted jeans with a dark green tank top tucked in and a black leather jacket, high heeled boots with a chunky heel, and short red hair in soft curls. Your outfit is much different from what you’re usually wearing, and your hair isn’t what they’d imagine you’d ever choose.

It didn’t take you long to find them, especially after Taehyung and Jeongguk’s first outing to meet up with Jimin. You had the smallest inkling of hope that Jimin would convince Taehyung his plan was pointless and not worth his time, but Jimin has never been anything but a brat when it comes to human lives and their emotions.

“Taehyung-“

“Nothing for me?” Jimin asks, sliding an arm over Taehyung’s shoulder, mirroring your current position with their third member.

You ignore the way he smiles at you, “Hi Jimin.”

“Hi, (Y/n)~” Jeongguk parrots.

You squeeze the bluenette’s shoulder and smile through your irritation, “Hello, Jeongguk…”

Taehyung smiles awkwardly, “What are you doing here?” 

“Are you really going to try this again? Did you learn nothing in the centuries you’ve had to think?” You ask.

“No?”

“Oh my word…” Your eyes shut tight in disdain. The amount of ridiculousness that you’ve already let the god get away with is almost too much for you to count on one hand, and he doesn’t make it any easier by not trying, “I’m serious about this Taehyung! Do you not remember last time?” Both Jimin and Jeongguk take this as their cue to back out, leaving only you and Taehyung.

“I do! But this time will be different.”

“How so?”

“It just will be! I know it!” His determination is unlike any other, and it’s almost admirable. But his determination isn’t enough to deal with the game he’s playing.

“Taehyung, I’ve seen every outcome. Please, don’t do this again! Not to them and especially not to yourself.” His smile drops and it brings you back to the last time you had seen him, lazing around the dark side of his planet. You knew he was hurting then and he wouldn’t accept your condolence, now you just want to help him before he makes the wrong choices. “Just give me the necklace and we can get this over with.”

He shakes his head, “You can’t destroy it.”

“What do you mean I can’t destroy it?”

“It can only be broken by them.” He explains, “Look, I’ve thought long and hard about this, okay? But now I have Jimin and Jeongguk to help me out!” He points to the two men on the dance floor where Jimin tries to teach Jeongguk how to roll his body, but the younger resembles a fish flopping in the water.

“They’re your backup plan?”

Taehyung chooses to ignore your distaste, “Look, I’m going to do this whether you tell me to leave them alone or not! Now, are you going to yell at me or are you going to help me?”

“I’m not going to help you, Taehyung.” Your intention was never to help Taehyung bring his experiment together - he’s crazy for even asking, “You can play your game with these humans, but now you’re messing with Life and Death.”

Taehyung’s shoulders tense at the mention of the all powerful beings, “What do you mean Life and Death?”

“Look, I came down here to warn you.” You know the game he’s playing, and the millions of outcomes he has to choose from don’t do anything to ease your worry. All you can do is let him make his decision and hope that your warnings are enough to persuade him, “Yoongi heard about what’s going on.” 

“What?”

“The whole council knows you’re down here and they - just like I am - are very pissed.”

Without thinking, Taehyung pulls you close and uses your body as a shield from the surrounding crowd. His nose rests just above your collarbone as he scans the crowd, “Yoongi’s not coming here, is he?”

“If you don’t destroy the necklace and return to your duties then he’s going to come down here and he’s going to bring Hoseok with him.” You explain, still trapped in his awkward embrace.

“Hoseok?!” 

“Yes, Hoseok!” You push the god off of you and straighten out your jacket, “You guys need to give up on this let it be.”

He shakes his head, “I can’t do that.”

“Taehyung-” 

“No!” He yells, catching the attention of a few people around you, “Why can’t they be happy together?! What is so wrong with that? Huh?! Why are you so adamant on keeping them apart?!”

You glance at the humans that watch you and Taehyung with caution, “There are aspects of my job that are much more complicated than you are ever going to understand, Taehyung. I’m sorry that things can’t work the way you want them to, but it is my job to see that everything within our home runs as it should.”

“Well, I can’t deal with that.” He’s come too far to just give up on everything. With Jimin and Jeongguk in his corner he could get this to work, but he won’t give in so easily, “I’m not giving up on them.”

��Then you’ll watch them fall.”

---

After their run-in with Fate a few years back, Taehyung, Jimin, and Jeongguk did their best to lay low. It wasn’t necessarily because they’re afraid of you - though there is some truth to that - but to be on Life and Death’s radar is to lay yourself out for a tiger. 

Of the Deities, there are 4 over-ruling monarchs of the universe - including the God of the universe himself. Just below him are the Pillars of Balance: Life, Death, and Fate. Like face cards in a deck, the 3 work together to keep the Universe in balance. 

Life: The White Knight of light. Seen among humans as a beacon of hope and balance. His creations are a work of necessity more than want. 

Death: The Black Knight of destruction. What Life gives, he takes. When there is too much, he creates little. The other half.

Fate: The All-Knowing. She sees all and is the ultimate peacekeeper between the deities. Nothing gets past her. With far more secrets than should be held on one person, she is the Knight of Secrets and Serenity.

With the threat of not just one, but all three coming after them, the need to continue on a low profile is more than necessary. They’re only saving grace is your inability to see their fate. 

Your All-Knowing power only coincides with living beings and the health of the universe itself, it does not extend to the deities that stem from the Universe. The only way you could know what they’re up to is if they interact with living beings. Of course, this meant no plants, no friends, and no pets, but they only have to push through until Eunha is old enough.

It was a long shot even hoping she’d get into her dream college and move to the city, but she did it just like Taehyung thought she would. She’s always been smart and determined, so it wasn’t much of a surprise to him at all - not the way it was to Jimin. Their next portion of the plan was securing a position at the museum.

“Do you have your resume?” Jimin asks.

“The paper thing?”

“Yes, the paper thing!” Jimin elbows Taehyung, “It’s the only way we’re getting through this thing without a hitch!” 

Taehyung pushes him back and rubs his side, “It’s right here, calm down.” He pulls out the folder with his resume, “I’m sure if I didn’t have it I’d be able to talk my way through it anyway.”

Both men make it to the bottom of the museum steps and start their ascent to the main doors. Both bicker and remind each other of their new identities and plans. Jimin is an aspiring dance major looking for an easy job at a museum gift shop, and Taehyung has a bachelor’s in history and is looking to take the position of a museum curator. All they had to do was use a little bit of their charm to get the jobs and they would be fine.

They go through the museum doors and stop to take a look around. To their right is a window to buy tickets with a few kiosks for self service. Ahead of them is a circular desk with a few employees and a busy staircase behind it. The big room slims down to two hallways on each side and what looks to be a third and fourth behind the staircase.

Jimin nods as he takes it all in, “This place is pretty big.”

“It’s gorgeous.” Taehyung sighs, enjoying the familiarity the building offers.

“Okay, so they said our interviews would be in the office past the cafeteria, so-” Jimin takes a moment to look at the signs before he points down the left hall, “-that way?”

Taehyung shrugs, “Looks right to me.”

Both men start towards the cafeteria when they notice an employee walking backwards towards them. Taehyung rushes both him and Jimin forward, narrowly missing the man before he turns around with his coffee in hand, “I am so sorry, sir! I didn’t see you behind me.”

“Not a problem at all.” Taehyung assures him before they continue on their way.

They find their way to the interview spot and check in with the employee running it. Both men feel absolutely confident that they’ll impress whoever is hiring. Even as other candidates enter and leave the room looking very confident, they’re 100% that no matter how many people interview they’ll still get the job.

The man running the interviews steps out of the office again, “Park Jimin, the director will see you now.” 

“Wish me luck!” Jimin hops up from his chair and adjusts his clothes before he walks into the interview room. He’s only in there for a total of 15 minutes before he walks back out. His expression reads calm, but Taehyung can feel the nervous energy radiating off of him. When he sits down next to Taehyung again, he taps his fingers against the arm of his chair. Without any explanation, he says, “Try not to cry.”

“Why would I cry?”

“Kim Taehyung. The Museum Director will see you now.” Jimin shrugs and sits back in his seat, not answering Taehyung’s question.

Despite the nerves that now want to hold him back, the blue haired god walks into his interview. He may have been expecting you to be behind the desk, but he definitely wasn’t expecting Mr. Life himself.

“Yoongi...” The honey blonde of his hair is much different from the natural dark locks he’s used to seeing from him, and the suit he wears isn’t anything close to the soft silk robes the grumpy deity usually wears.

“Sit down, Taehyung.” Taehyung wearily takes the seat across from him, eyeing the higher deity as the blonde stares at him, “Do you have your resume?”

“Right here.” Taehyung placed his folder on the desk and awkwardly slid it across the desk.

Yoongi picks up the folder and opens it in front of his face. Taehyung can’t see him, but he can hear the sigh, “I see a lack of coffee stains, I’m disappointed.” 

“Coffee stains?” Taehyung asks. 

He stands a little to try and peek above the folder, but he pops back down in his seat as soon as Yoongi sets the folder back down, “If you would have spilled the human’s coffee over yourself then I was supposed to turn you away, but I cannot.” Yoongi closes the folder and stamps it with an ‘approved’ stamp before doing the same to another folder that matches his. He pushes them both off to the side before he turns back to the man still terrified before him, “I can - however - ask you what the hell you think you’re doing?”

“Um...participating in the society humans have created for themselves?” The god tries to give his most award winning smile, but Yoongi’s blank stare is showing no sign of remorse, “Yeah, I didn’t think you’d buy that either.”

Yoongi tongues the side of his cheek, obviously holding back his anger. He leans forward and places his arms on the desk with his fingers intertwined, “I don’t think I have to tell you that I don’t approve of what you’re planning to do, right?”

“No.”

“Good, because I don’t want to talk to a dead horse.”

“A dead horse…?”

“Don’t worry about it. My point is I don’t want to go over this with you again.” The blonde deity stands from his chair and walks over to the side of his room where a window sits, “I already hear enough complaining from Fate, I don’t want to deal with your antics myself.”

Taehyung tilts his head in confusion, “Then why hire me?”

“It’s not up to me. It’s up to Fate.” Taehyung practically rolls his eyes when Yoongi says this, but the deity doesn’t pay him any mind. “You start Monday. You’ll meet with the Owner of the Museum and they will talk to you about the exhibits you’ll be in charge of.” Taehyung stands up but Yoongi flashes in front of him, “Do not bother me. Do not mess up my museum. Do I make myself clear?”

“Didn’t you just say-”

“Do I make myself clear?” Yoongi repeats.

Taehyung nods, “Yes sir.”

“Go on.” Yoongi waves him away and returns to his desk, not paying any mind to the god as he leaves.

As soon as Taehyung steps out of the interview, Jimin is in front of him looking for answers, “Did he hire you?”

“Yup.”

“Well, I guess we both got the job.” The orange haired man throws his arm over his friend’s shoulder and leads him away from the office, but Taehyung can only stare ahead blankly as they walk.

“This was not a part of the plan.”

“No, but we did accomplish part of the plan. Now we just have to complete the rest of it.” Jimin takes notice of Taehyung’s unusually grim face and stops walking, “What’s that face for?”

Taehyung furrows his brow in confusion, “What face?”

“That face!” Jimin argues. He cups Taehyung's face, “Don’t tell me you’re backing out.”

“I’m not.”

“You look like you are!” Jimin pats the sides of his face rapidly, “We’ve come too far for you to back out now.”

The blue haired man pushes Jimin away, “I won’t back out! I’m just worried.” His whole plan was centered around sneaking around and not getting caught.  But with one of the Pillars of Balance on Earth keeping track of him, it’s only a matter of time before the other two join him. “Yoongi is here. On Earth. If he’s here then he brought Hoseok with him.”

“So they’re meddling too? Big deal. We can handle them.” Taehyung gives Jimin a look and he shrugs, “Okay, so we can work around them. The point is we have this.”

They did not have this.

Unlike the elder deities, Jeongguk wouldn’t be a part of the plan until much later. For now, he’d exist as a high schooler until Eunha secures a job at the museum. This left most of the plan up to Jimin and Taehyung to prepare for her arrival. 

The plan was honestly very simple:

Get a job at the museum

Have Namjoon’s tomb opened

Bring Namjoon to the museum

Have Eunha touch the necklace

Namjoon comes back to life

They fall in love

The end

It’s a win-win situation for everyone.

However, Taehyung didn’t expect the worst bump in the road.

His first day meeting with the Museum owner, Taehyung had his whole speech planned. He would convince him that King Kim Namjoon was worth the money. He was going to express how significant his story is and how beneficial it will be to his museum. A story of love and compassion would warm the hearts of everyone from around the world, and they could have that in this very museum.

But beyond the door at the large desk mulling over papers was no old man wearing a cheesy tie. It was you, wearing a nice button down and a skirt. A blazer rests on the back of your chair and the papers on your desk make it look like a tornado had gone through. Of all the things that could have gone wrong, this was the biggest hole in his plan.

“Oh, you’re here. Good. I’ve been waiting for you. Please, have a seat.” You flash him a smile and point to the chair in front of you. Taehyung is very hesitant, but he takes the seat across from you anyway as you dig through a stack of folders to your right. You pull out three folders and set them on the desk between the two of you, “Alright, now, we have a few exhibit’s open for you to take over from the last curator that worked here. You can change it however you like, but I will need prior notice before I can take a look at our budget.”

You turn back to your computer to take a look at the current funds available, but Taehyung isn’t ready to move forward yet, “What is happening here?”

“What do you mean?” You ask. Of course you know what he’s talking about, but you’ve given up on entertaining Taehyung this time around.

“Why aren’t you yelling at me?” He asks.

You gesture to the computer in front of you, “Because I have a job to do?”

“Okay, but what about your real job?”

“Taehyung, I am perfectly capable of doing my day job and this job.” You hold out your palms for him to see the cosmos laid out on your palms with the strings that hang off of your fingers.

Taehyung nods and you put them away to return to your ‘day job’, “And...you’re okay with this?”

You sigh, “At this point, I can only wait for the strings to fall into place. My biggest concern is keeping you from doing something you shouldn’t be.” You click the print icon at the top of your screen and turn around to your printer to collect the forms, “I also need to make sure Jimin is behaving. He still hasn’t been forgiven by the council.”

Taehyung nods in understanding, “So, you’re just going to leave me be as long as I don’t do anything dangerous?”

“That is the plan.”

“So, if I were to want Namjoon to be brought here as an exhibit?”

“I would put in your request.” You turn back around to the god in front of you and slide the New Exhibit forms he’d be needing, “My job is Fate, Taehyung, but I have no control over how the strings align. My job is to watch them converge and keep them from being tampered with. My main concern is containing the balance of the universe.”

“So you will?”

“If that’s what you would like to do then I’ll need a formal request.” You pick up the folders on your desk and hand them over, “Look over your other exhibits as well.”

You turn back to your computer and Taehyung watches you. He sits there for a minute before he speaks up, “Is this it…?” 

“That’s it.” You nod. Taehyung stands up to leave and you chime in again, “I have a meeting with the head of security, you can just leave the door open.”

“Sure thing.” Taehyung opens the door and walks out, leaving the door open just as you had asked. The whole situation felt weird for him, and part of him thinks you’re definitely lying to him.

Taehyung doesn’t even notice he’s stopped in the middle of the walkway until someone is trying to move around him, “Excuse me.”

Taehyung immediately looks up at the familiar voice, “Hoseok?” The brunette is wearing more modern, human clothes just like the other two. His hair is swept back and he has a large binder tucked under one arm with a coffee in his hand, “Hi.”

The higher deity waves as much as he can with full hands, “Hey, sorry, I’d love to chat but I have a meeting.”

Taehyung nods, but does a double take as soon as it hits him, “Wait, are you the head of security?”

“Yeah, is that a problem?” The brunettes smile is teasing, but there’s just a small lilt in the tone that has the hairs on the back of Taehyung’s neck standing up.

“No! Not at all.” He bows to the higher deity and waves, “Good to see you…”

It’s later at Jimin’s apartment with a can of beer in his hand that taehyung let’s his walls break, “We are so fucked.”

“We’re not fucked.” Jimin assures him, drinking from his own can.

“We are!”

“Question!” The two turn to Jeongguk who sits on the floor holding a pillow to his chest, “What does fuck mean?” Neither of the two make any move to answer him, and Jeongguk pulls the pillow closer to him, “Nevermind...”

Taehyung leans forward in his seat and rests his head in his hands, “Our plan keeps changing.”

“For the better!” Jimin throws an arm over Taehyung’s shoulder and pats his arm,“You have to trust the process, Taehyung.”

“The process didn’t include Yoongi, Hoseok, and (Y/n)!”

“It has always included them.” Jimin cups Taehyung’s cheek and turns his face so that he’s looking at him, “I know you’re not keen on the other deities, Taehyung, I get it. But don’t be naive. We can use this to our advantage.”

He was right, of course. After eons of council meetings and watching the 3 Pillars deal with Earth on their own, both Taehyung and Jimin have picked up on certain habits that each one is more comfortable with. Fate is easier to avoid - not in a way where she won’t come after them, but as long as they stay out of trouble then you’ll leave them be. Yoongi doesn’t involve any coaxing at all. He’ll definitely keep an eye on them, but he’s more of a silent watcher. Their biggest threat is Hoseok.

Though he is nice and surprisingly very down to Earth, Hoseok is not someone anyone can hide from. Within two days of first seeing him after the interview, Hoseok was already passing them on the streets at night and in the aisle at the grocery store. The brunette deity made sure they knew he wasn’t going away as easily as (Y/n) and Yoongi would. If he saw they were doing something he didn’t like, then he’d make it known. It wasn’t easy to stay off of his radar, but they did somehow manage to do it.

And that set them up for the beginning of their whole plan.

It’s early in the afternoon and Taehyung is talking to the archeologist who “discovered” Namjoon’s tomb. Truly, Taehyung had already opened the tomb himself, but no one needed to know that. What was important was that he impress the man enough for him to send Namjoon and all of his artifacts - including the necklace he snuck back into the crypt - to his exhibit.

“I truly believe that we can give King Namjoon a final resting place here with his tomb deteriorating at such a fast pace. I wouldn’t want to see anything damaged, especially the King’s notes on his experience with the Moon Goddess.”

“Ah, yes, the Moon Goddess~” The old man muses, “The old king was quite detailed in his recounts of her. The king dedicates almost a third of his journal to her.”

Taehyung smiles. Leave it to Namjoon to write a novel and dedicate it to him, “That’s very kind of him.” 

“Indeed it was.” The older man stops and turns to the young curator, “You know, it has been very wonderful speaking with you today, Mr. Kim. I’ll talk with my colleagues, but I do hope to see you again.”

“Thank you. I hope to see you again as well.” Taehyung shakes the older gentleman’s hand, “Please have a safe trip home.”

The old man gives him a nod back and turns to leave. It’s just as he’s passing the information desk that Taehyung sees the young woman standing at the entrance - just as he had done with Jimin - looking around the large room in awe. He didn’t have to guess who she was, he just knew. 

Eunha finally made it.

Taehyung takes long strides across the building's main floor to greet her, “Hi! Can I help you?”

The young soulmate offers him a relieved smile, “Yes. I’m here to apply for a security position.”

“Yes! Let me take you there.” Taehyung gestures for her to follow him. He turns in the direction of the cafeteria and then stops in his tracks before Seokjin runs into him. IN a flash he holds out his arm to stop Eunha before the blonde haired man can bump into her with his coffee, “Sorry about that, Seokjin’s coffee time is the most dangerous time of the day.”

Taehyung gives him a playful glare and the blonde just shrugs, “Okay, so maybe now I’ll start leaving it on my desk.”

Eunha chuckles to herself, and Taehyung feels his heart flutter. He hadn’t heard her laugh in so long, he forgot that he missed hearing it. He gestures for her to continue following him, and he leads her to Hoseok’s office where the brunette is collecting the mail from the box next to his door.

“Hoseok!-” The head of security jumps, turning around to see the other two. Taehyung tries not to laugh, “I have your interviewee for the security position.”

A light seems to go off in Hoseok’s head as the name rings a bell with him, “Ah! Choi Eunha, right?” Eunha nods and Hoseok offers her a hand, “Jung Hoseok. Please step into my office.”

“Good luck!” Eunha nods and thanks Taehyung for his help, the god waving back to her. He watches her enter the office and meets the eyes of Hoseok as he closes the door. He can tell the higher deity wants nothing more than for him to leave, but Taehyung isn’t as willing.

He waits across the hall in the employee lounge for about 20 minutes or so, anxiously eating a bag of chips he stole out of Jimin’s locker. He waits for the shadows to pass by the door before he attempts to peek his head out. Down the hall, he can see Eunha’s figure walking away towards the main room, a light bounce in her step. She looks excited, and Taehyung takes that as a good sign.

“Waiting for someone?”

“Hoseok!” Taehyung jumps, hitting his side against the doorknob. The god stumbles out of the doorway and turns himself around so he faces the higher deity. He leans one arm on the wall while the other wraps over his abdomen to cradle his side, his feet crossed over the other to appear ‘casual’. “Hey! Hi. How are you? Good interview?”

Hoseok chuckles, eyeing the god on another one of his shenanigans, “She got the job, Taehyung.”

“Yes!” Taehyung’s fist pumps the air, running in place in excitement.

Hoseok shakes his head, “I don’t know how you knew about Seokjin, but I guess I have to let you off the hook.”

Taehyung grabs Hoseok by the shoulders and pulls him into a tight hug, “Thank you, Hoseok.”

Hoseok awkwardly pats Taehyung’s back, “This wasn’t me. This was all up to Fate. (Y/n) just told me what sign to look for.”

The Moon God rolls his eyes and pulls back, “If you’re telling me to thank her, I won’t.”

“I’m not telling you to do anything. I’m just telling you not to praise me for work I didn’t do.” Hoseok reiterates, “I just hope you can take whatever Fate throws at you.”

“Trust me. I can.”

*

*

*

Both Jimin and Taehyung made it their jobs to become Eunha’s friends as soon as she began working. They spent the first few years of her on the day shift security getting to know her and bringing her into their lives before they actually began to incorporate their plan.

If Taehyung were to ask anyone at the museum how to describe him, it would be a total fanboy. There isn’t a day that goes by that he doesn’t mention Namjoon. Every conversation he has with anyone he tries to slip in one detail about his journey to obtain his dead king. Every small miniscule detail he gives is a segway to tell everything to Eunha.

He knows no one wants to hear him when he hops on his soapbox, but it’s what he has to do. Every move he makes is for the sake of Namjoon and Eunha to find the happiness he promised them. If he has to annoy every human he meets with his excitement, then so be it.

The day you told him his project was approved, was a day he won’t forget.

---

Taehyung knocks on the door to your office, “You wanted to see me?”

You look up from your paperwork, “Yes, please, have a seat.” You start to clear your desk and Taehyung takes the seat in front of you. “Do you know why you’re here?”

Taehyung thinks back to everything he’s done in the past week. He’s made a lot of decisions that could be considered questionable - a few that Jimin won’t even acknowledge, “Is this about the children’s exhibit? Because if it is, that was all Jeongguk’s fault, not mine.”

“No. I already know about that and I’ve chosen to ignore it as has Yoongi.” From somewhere in your overwhelming stack of papers, you pull out a blue folder and place it in front of the blonde, “This is about Namjoon.”

He takes a long look at your blank expression and the folder in front of him and bows his head, “They didn’t accept our offer...” He had thought he’d done everything he possibly could to convince the old man that his museum was the best museum. No other museum could compare! Only his would take the upmost care of Namjoon, but it he didn’t bite.

Taehyung sits up, “Can we at least talk about a temporary exhibit? Surely if we explain the situation to them, then they’ll let us have him for at least a month!”

“Taehyung….Do you really think that would be enough time? The results wouldn’t possibly change in that time.” You’re right, of course. Even if he tries to deny it, you’re always right, “What would you even tell them?”

Taehyung doesn’t even think, “That having this exhibit at our museum would be the most important decision of their lives.”

You shake your head, “No one would think that’s reason enough Taehyung.” 

Taehyung can’t help but wonder why that’s always the answer anyone can ever give him. How could no one else understand the importance of love? No one seems to understand Eunha and Namjoon like he does, and this is just another wrench in his plan. How would he ever bring them together now?

“So-” You open the blue folder that sits between the two of you to reveal the form he had submitted months ago with an “approved” stamped at the bottom, “I guess it’s only for the best that they accepted our offer.”

“Are you serious?” Taehyung asks. You nod, but Taehyung still grabs the folder off the desk to see for himself. After years of begging and endless praise and admiratio towards the dead human king, Taehyung had finally gotten eactly what he wanted. His plan was actually falling into place in front of his very own eyes. “And him and Eunha?”

“Their fate is out of my hands, Taehyung.” You had hope he wouldn’t ask. The closer the two humans come together, the more complicated their fate becomes. Every step is another twist around the other string, another pin for you to deal with. You sigh, “Two converged strings brought together before their time won’t act the same way two strings slowly inching together will. Ties have been cut and burned and there's no telling how Fate will twist them even further.” 

The blonde’s brow furrows in confusion, “What is that supposed to mean?”

“For all I know, their strings could knot together and the connection could never go any further.” It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve seen it happen. When Jimin had separated the humans from their soulmates, you’d come across many burned and knotted strings. Some were so stuck, there was no way for you to unravel them without creating a rift like the one Taehyung has made. “They would be stuck.”

“Would you be able to fix it?” He asks.

You shake your head, “Probably not in the way you want me to.”

Taehyung groans and slams his palm down against the top of your desk, startling you, “Why is Fate against them?!”

“If I knew the answer Taehyung, I would tell you.” It makes you sad to see him like this. With his own string caught in the middle of the two lovers, he’s only making himself miserable at every turn and every inconvenience. And with the outcomes that have made themselves known to you, there are countless terrible endings for the lovers. It’s like the two are world’s apart, with Taehyung hopping back and forth through hoop after hoop just to make them happy.

Without a second thought, you lean over your desk to place a hand over his, “We have the king. Accept that for now and worry about whatever plan you’ve concocted for when he gets here.”

---

Taehyung is pulled out of his memory when he sees two of the movers struggling to carry the sarcophagus he’d buried Namjoon in all those years ago, “Careful with him! I don’t want him damaged.”

“He’s fine, Taehyung.” Yoongi assures him, patting the lower god on the back, “That’s kinda why he has a box.”

Taehyung shakes his head in disapproval. He’s not surprised someone as bitter as Life doesn’t get it, “Okay, but the box is an important part of his history! It all has to be perfect.”

“Is his jewelry here yet?” The grumpy deity asks.

“You mean his lover’s necklace?” Yoongi nods, “No, they haven’t sent it yet.”

Hoseok pipes up from the loading doors, “That’s scheduled for next week, Eunha will be here for that one.” 

“Eunha?” Taehyung asks. Hoseok nods and Taehyung smiles, the perfect plan forming in his mind, “Perfect.”

Hoseok warily eyes the smug expression on Taehyung’s face and chooses to ignore it, “Yeah...anyways, the necklace and a few more items will be here next week as well. That shipment won’t be as large.”

“What day is that again?”

“Tuesday.”

Yoongi groans, “A full moon…” 

“What’s so bad about a full moon.” Johnny asks, unaware of the dilemma happening between the 3 deities. 

“Things happen when the moon is full and I don't like it.” Yoongi says it so nonchalantly, but his glare directed at Taehyung shows how he truly feels. The Moon God is most powerful on the full Moon, and that can only spell trouble for everyone else. He sighs, “I guess I don’t have a choice, so I’ll be there.”

“Good, cause you’re my ride.” Hoseok reminds him.

“Of course I am.” Life sighs, “Just get to work in grabbing the things we have now so we can get the exhibit together for this Friday.”

The movers get to work on taking the lighter items, but Taehyung protests their movement, “But the main attraction isn’t here.”

Yoongi grabs the curator by the shoulders and turns him around, “The main attraction is the dead guy. Now get moving.” 

Everyone but Taehyung continues to get back to work. The blonde takes his one chance to approach his long lost friend and gently place his hand on the top, “Don’t worry, my friend. I won’t let you down this time.”

---

The night that Taehyung intends to invoke his plan, he’s sitting in Namjoon’s exhibit on the bench in front of his sarcophagus. Every night since his arrival he’s done this, enjoying the comfort of being close to his friend. Even if the king can’t talk back, it feels familiar to be with him. Besides, Eunha will have to come and kick him out before she locks up the exhibit for the night. The perfect ruse to tell her more about her beloved soulmate.

But if Taehyung were to be honest with himself, he couldn’t be more nervous than he is right now. So many things could go wrong, and there was no telling if what he was planning to do would actually help Namjoon and Eunha. If he messed this up - if he makes everything worse - then there’s no telling what will happen to the two. 

Behind him, Taehyung hears the clicking of heels against the floor of the exhibit. It’s definitely not Eunha - her shoes don’t make that sound - he only knows one person who wears heels and likes to sneak up on him, “Please tell me you’re not here to scold me again.”

“It won’t do me any good to scold you if you’re not going to listen.” You sit down next to him and rest your laptop case on the bench next to you, taking in the view of the exhibit in front of you. The king’s sarcophagus is lit by two spotlights hanging from the ceiling on either side, the jewels on the top glittering under the light.

Next to you, the blonde man sighs. He’s been acting weird all day and it’s been putting everyone on edge, “You’re worried. Is it about the necklace?” 

“Do you know enough to answer my questions?” He asks.

“I do.”

“Will he wake up?”

“Yes.”

“And will she love him?” You hesitate, giving Taehyung the answer he was already worried about, “She’s not going to love him...”

You sigh, “She doesn’t remember him Taehyung.”

“He didn’t even meet her and he loved her!” He argues, standing from the bench.

“And that’s not my problem!” Taehyung never fails to forget that you can’t actually control Fate, you can only look over it and see the outcomes, “I can’t control how they love.”

“They’re soulmates, are they not?” He asks, “Tied together by Fate? Your strings?!”

You hold up a hand, “I only hold the cards, Taehyung. I play them when they’re needed.” 

“That’s what you always say...” Taehyung mutters to himself, sitting back down on the bench and leaving a space in between.

You sigh, “It’s not like I don’t want them to be happy, Taehyung, but I have a job to do.”

“Your job should prioritize their happiness.”

“There are 7 trillion humans just like them, Taehyung. They can’t all be happy.” Taehyung doesn’t say anything in response and you take another deep breath to calm yourself. From down the hall, you can hear muted footsteps coming closer. With it being so close to closing time, there’s only so many people it can be. You stand and adjust your laptop case on your shoulder, “She’s coming. I’ll leave you here.”

Taehyung doesn’t bid you farewell, and you take that as your chance to slip away. As you walk past the cases parallel to the door, you see Eunha walking in to close up for the night. You see the face she makes when she sees Taehyung and you have to stifle a giggle.

“Have a good night, ma’am.” She says with a genuine smile.

You nod, “You too.”

Hopefully, of all the scenarios that could happen tonight before the morning, they all choose the best one.

~ Read Part 4 ~

[stufftippywrote]

day off

22: “You make me so happy.” From this prompt list...

Lan Wangji is not a perfect soul.

He knows his own reputation. To others, he is a lake of glass: unwavering, unmoving, still and perfect against the travails of life. More than anything, he has mastered his own body. His movements, his expressions are precise. Not an eyelash out of place; barely a twitch of his lips, sometimes, when he is stirred by emotion. He is snowfall on a mountaintop: always constant, always undisturbed.

But beneath the snowfall, beneath the glass, turmoil.

Less so today than before: before there was distress, urgency, fear of losing what he'd only so recently regained. Now, for the most part, there is peace and joy. But what remains, still, is doubt.

Wei Ying loves him. That in itself should solve every problem, open every door. He is able to take this man who captured his heart a lifetime ago and hold him, touch him, speak with him every day. Where the frost had seeped into Lan Wangji's heart, Wei Ying has melted it, and every day now it is springtime: tender, beautiful, full of life and possibility.

But spring is also fleeting, and sometimes Lan Wangji wonders.

Can someone like Wei Ying truly be happy, passing his days in Cloud Recesses?

Can he spend his days in a place of four thousand rules, bound to the same surroundings every day, teaching the same students, bound to the same room, the same man, the same bed? Should Wei Ying be living a freer life than Lan Wangji can give him? Shouldn't he be running on rainbows to the seven corners of the earth, helping the downtrodden and winning hearts as he goes, turning the legend of the Yiling Patriarch into a story of redemption and heroism? Sometimes it seems a shame, even to Lan Wangji, that he stays here.

But stay here he does, save nighthunts to and fro with the others and occasional jaunts down the mountain just because. He never complains when Lan Wangji joins him. There is no doubt there; Lan Wangji can be sure, at the very least, that Wei Ying truly loves him.

But is loving him enough to keep him happy?

This morning, he fears it is not.

They're having breakfast. Wei Ying pokes at his rice unhappily, not eating very much, which is always a troubling sign. The never troubled, always glad face of Wei Ying is pinched with some discontent. Perhaps it is as he fears. He fumbles for a way to cheer him. "Wei Ying," he says, unsure, "Do you want to take a trip?"

Wei Ying shakes his head and stares balefully at the plate of vegetables before him. "No," he says, "not really."

"Is something wrong?"

"Nothing," Wei Ying says automatically, and then sighs. "Maybe I had a bad dream."

"Maybe?" And maybe that's all it is, but Lan Wangji can't see that look on Wei Ying's face without thinking there's something more. "What will you do today?"

Wei Ying gestures vaguely to his writing-desk in the corner. "I suppose I'll probably work some more on the energy map I've been developing," he says. "Then I guess I'll do some meditation, try to get this weak little core of mine a bit more bulked up. Or maybe I'll just take the day off.”  He lets out another, resigned sigh. "It's really useless, Lan Zhan. I'm never going to be what I was."

"You will, in time," Lan Wangji starts to say, then falls silent. His words must be so little comfort to Wei Ying, who has been trying to improve on the weakness of Mo Xuanyu's golden core for months now. Lan Wangji had encouraged him, seeing it as the obvious path to take, trying to cultivate back to his former self. But perhaps it is more frustrating, and less satisfying, than he had anticipated. Perhaps it's only holding him back.

This place, these Cloud Recesses, are such an ideal place for cultivation. But if cultivation isn't what Wei Ying desires -- if being here isn't what he desires -- Lan Wangji has no right to hold him back.

He coughs softly.

Wei Ying blinks at him. "What?"

"If you want to travel," Lan Wangji says, carefully as always, "you should travel."

"What's with asking me about traveling?" Wei Ying half-smiles. "Are you trying to get rid of me, Lan Zhan?"

"No." But he must qualify that answer as well; he must make sure Wei Ying feels free. "But if you wish to go..."

"I don't." Wei Ying picks up a radish slice with chopsticks and crunches down on it decisively. "I'm not sure why you think I do."

Lan Wangji is ashamed. He seems to have incurred Wei Ying's irritation. He's fouled this up, when his only intention has been to let Wei Ying know he is free to pursue his dreams wherever they may lead him. He is silent, placing his chopsticks down on the table and staring expressionlessly at his meal. He shouldn't be speaking while eating anyway.

Wei Ying leans back and gazes at him for a long moment. "Lan Zhan," he says hesitantly, "why are you so sure all of a sudden that I want to go?"

The shame doesn't show on his face, but Lan Wangji feels it acutely. "I want Wei Ying to be happy," he says.

"But I'm happy!" Wei Ying laughs, but it's not the full, open-throated laugh that Lan Wangji is used to. There's something strained in his smile.

"You did not seem so," he points out.

The smile fades as quickly as it appears. Wei Ying crosses his arms. "I really did have a bad dream," he says, the consonants of his speech sharp as he rasps over them. "I'm always going to have bad dreams. It's the curse of the Yiling Patriarch. I have too many regrets to always sleep soundly. And the cultivation does get me down, I won't lie. I feel as though you're still waiting for me to become something I'm not."

"I'm not," Lan Wangji speaks as swiftly as he can. "If you no longer wish to cultivate, then stop."

"I don't want to stop, necessarily," Wei Ying says. "I want to live a long life with you. But I can't say I'm going to be successful at it, even with time. And I don't want you to settle."

"I want Wei Ying just as he is." The words can't rush from his mouth fast enough, but with them comes regret -- are these words binding cords? Do they trap Wei Ying in an existence that is not his ideal? "I fear you are settling."

Wei Ying looks at him a long time without speaking. Lan Wangji feels that gaze boring into him, like a pike being driven through his chest. Wei Ying's mind works fast, and in ways Lan Wangji often cannot follow. Who knows what he's thinking right now.

And then, like a bright rush of sunshine, that laugh. Full-voiced now, sounds flying into the air like a flock of birds, noisy and raucous and everything that is good. "I see," he says. "I see now. Oh, Lan Zhan, I thought I had the market cornered on self-torture, but you are good at it too, when you are given too much time to think." He takes one of Lan Wangji's hands into his own, nimble fingers caressing his skin. A blessed touch. "I'm happy here," he says. "I'm not sure how you decided otherwise, but I promise I am."

"Why?" Lan Wangji asks.

"Why what?"

"Why are you happy here?" The question seems to Lan Wangji to be an obvious one, but Wei Ying looks at him as though he's speaking in an alien tongue. "What about this place makes you happy?"

"What doesn't?" Wei Ying counters. "The scenery, being close to A-Yuan and the others, a truly insane number of books I can look through in my work, the back hill, the waterfall..."

"The rules?" Lan Wangji asks. "The food?"

"See, now you're just picking the things you know I'm not fond of." Wei Ying props his chin up on his free hand and gazes at Lan Wangji across the table. "You're forgetting something very important."

Lan Wangji blinks. What has he not accounted for? "Something important?"

Wei Ying sighs. He drops his chopsticks, stands up, and rounds the small table, planting himself awkwardly in Lan Wangji's lap. The crush of his weight and the sweet smell of him, all of a sudden everywhere, and Lan Wangji's impulse is to clutch on tightly. He wills his hands to remain still.

"You," Wei Ying says. "You're forgetting about you."

"Me?" It's not as though Lan Wangji doubted, but he hadn't considered... he hadn't thought he was enough to tip the scales.

"You. You make me happy, Lan Zhan. You make me so happy." Wei Ying kisses his jaw, caresses his face with a hand. "Don't you know that?"

Lan Wangji is silent. Wei Ying's words are echoing in his ears. You make me so happy. How could he? He tries, but how could he really when Wei Ying's heart is big enough to embrace an entire universe?

Wei Ying buries a laugh in Lan Wangji's shoulder. "Ah, Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan," he berates, "it's you who's settling! Look at me, so weak, determined to keep my wicked ways. You'll never make a proper cultivator out of me, no matter how long and how hard you try. Aren't I the very picture of disappointment? It's a wonder you can keep me around."

"Stop." Lan Wangji scowls. "Stop. Don't say these things."

"Do they sound ridiculous to you? Do you see now how you sound to me?" Wei Ying winds his arms around Lan Wangji's neck. "I'm not leaving you, Lan Zhan. You couldn't kick me out with a whole army of little Lans behind you. So you might as well stop trying."

Lan Wangji is a little embarrassed. He had been so worried about Wei Ying's ill temper and so lost in his own imaginings that he'd concocted a whole universe of discontent. He lifts a hand and tangles it in Wei Ying's hair, savoring the feel of soft silk against his fingers. "Wei Ying makes me happy, too," he says.  "So very happy."

Wei Ying leans in and dots a kiss onto his lips, small and perfect. "So you'll give up then on telling me to go away?"

"Mn." For the first time this morning, he feels tethered again, sure of himself.

"And if I ever do want to go somewhere," Wei Ying says, "I want you to come with me."

"Anywhere Wei Ying wants to go."

"How about lunch in town, then?" Wei Ying lifts one of Lan Wangji's chopsticks from the table and pokes at the pile of withered vegetables. "Because as happy as I am, breakfast is not one of Cloud Recesses' high points."

"Mn. Lunch." There it is, that sense of sureness, that gentle delight that he's so used to feeling in Wei Ying's presence. He'd lost sight of it, somehow, but it's back and Wei Ying loves him and Wei Ying wants to stay with him and he needs nothing else in the entire universe. "Wherever you like."

"And I still intend to cultivate," Wei Ying says. "But perhaps, just this once, I'll take a day off." Lan Wangji nods. "Maybe I can convince you to dally with me a few hours in town? Unless you have terribly important lessons to impart and terribly important papers to grade."

"Nothing terribly important."  He lets his lips turn up in just that way that only Wei Ying gets to see.

"Good, then I'm skipping the rest of breakfast."

Lan Wangji frowns. "Don't waste food."

Wei Ying claps his hands. "Oh, there you are, Lan Zhan! I had thought you'd gone missing for  second."

He crawls out of Lan Wangji's lap and back onto his side of the table. They finish breakfast in pleasant silence, sunlight streaming in through the window. It's the perfect time to take a day off.

[pollenat]

NU’EST and Late night talks

➛ Requested by an anon! I hope you like it ;-; Decided to add angst for good measure. Italics for the member, non-italics for the reader.

ARON

“Good night-” *the sound of lips smacking* “Hm? Oh- You’re home late.” “Yes.” *pause* “Sorry. I woke up you up in the process, didn’t I?” “Just come here already and let me sleep!” “Coming, coming.” “You said coming, but you’re leaving.” “I’ve got to wash.” “Wash in the morning then. It’s too cold to be alone in the bed.” “I’m-” “No excuses. Come on.”

“Aaron?” *sigh* “No, I’m not sleeping.” “I didn’t ask whether you were sleeping.” “Will you get to the point then?” *silence* “Do you think I’m funny?” *shuffling* “Wha- Why are you asking whether you’re funny?” “I don’t know, just want to know what you think.” “Huh, well. You are funny.” “Very convincing.” “Wait, (y/n)! Don’t be mad! You just took me by surprise!” “Well, you should be ready even for surprises!”

“Are you falling asleep?” “No, no. I’m not-” “Yes, you were! Mister, this movie is a cultural reset and you’re falling asleep on it!” “Oh, let it go, won’t you? I’ve seen it. Like ten times or something. Need I remind you the many times you’ve played it already?” “I’m doing you a favor. This is the highest form of education.” “I’ve already finished school.” “Not the school of life, no.” “Life? This is The School of Rock, not Schindler’s List!”

“Had a nightmare, huh? Don’t look so scared, it wasn’t for real. Just go back to sleep.”

“Can you stop?” “I’m not doing anything.” “Yes, you are. I can see. Stop being passive aggressive.” “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” *sigh* “Just stop, (y/n). Talk to me instead. It’s not healthy to hold back emotions.” “I didn’t ask for a session with psychologist.” “But you’re dating me, so you kind of signed up for it.” *silence* “Hm? Come on. Tell me. I’m listening ”

JR

“There’s a 5.” “Ah, I see.” *pause* “Oh, a 4! Can you see it?” “-You’re right.” “There’s only one missing in this square. It’s nine, obviously.” “Will- Are you going to solve my Sudoku for me?” “I wanted to play with you-” “Babe, Sudoku is a single player game. Get your own phone!” “No, thank you. I don’t want to play anymore since you’re being such a meanie.” “Jonghyun!”

“Aren’t you going to sleep?” *yawning* “Hm?” “You’re awake.” “Ah, yes. I suppose I can’t really fall asleep.” “Why?” “I don’t know. I just can’t.” “Hm.” *a long pause* “Do you want to do something? We can play on the console.” “Thanks, but don’t worry about me. Go to sleep.” “I can’t sleep when you can’t sleep.” *shuffling* “Come on, let’s play a round or two.” *pause* “... or three?” “Or three."

“Are you still eating that?” * pause* “Yes, why? Jonghyun, I’m not giving you the rest of my noodles! You had yours.” “Yeah, I just wanted to make sure...” *longer pause* “Are you really that hungry?” *sigh* “Okay, now I’m full. Take this. And stop making the eyes at me! I could’ve just made you more.” “But I’m not that hungry. And I shouldn’t be eating so late at night...” “You-” *sigh* “You’re a baby, is what you are.”

“You’re such a cuddlebug.” *pause* “Good for me, I guess.”

“You’re so distant lately. What’s wrong?” “Sorry.” “You don’t have to apologize. I’m not mad at you.” *shuffling* “I just want to help. Maybe there’s a way-” “I don’t think so.” *silence* “Oh.” *more silence* “Well, that’s alright. You can still tell me? You can’t?” *sigh* “I suppose it’s not my place to be pushy about your problems. Just know that I’m here. I want to be here for you, okay?”

BAEKHO

“(y/n). (y/n)?” “Mhm?” “Are you awake?” “Yes... I think? What’s up?” “I can’t sleep.” “And therefore I’m not allowed to either?” *pause* “Ugh. You know what? Forget I ever said anything.” *pause* “Okay, I’m sorry. Don’t be mad at me! Dongho!” *pause* “Dongho!” *shuffling* *a snicker* “I knew it. You always come back.”

“Ugh! Let me go Dongho!” “What? Why?” “You’re too hot!” “Well, thank you? I am aware of that. I just don’t know what my appearance has to do with us spooning.” “I wasn’t talking about your- your everything. I meant hot as in temperature-wise.” “I’m sharing my body warmth with you and this is how you repay me? By scolding? I worked hard for this!” “I’m going to suffocate!” “Stop being a grump. Just push the duvet off. Some of us have to sleep.”

“What do you think?” “Sounds super cool. I only don’t understand why flames?” “Why not?” “They’re pretty overused, don’t you think?” “Why would I care for that? They’re supposed to show my internal fire.” “Eww. You’re so sleazy.” “Don’t I have an internal fire?” “How am I supposed to know?” *pause* “Don’t raise your eyebrows at me!” “How are you supposed to know? For real, (y/n)?” “This conversation is officially over.”

“Your face is so weird when you’re sleeping. Good thing I love you.”

“Are you really going to spend the night on the couch?” *silence* “Dongho, don’t be ridiculous. Just because we fought earlier doesn’t mean you have to avoid me so much.” *still silence* *sigh* “If you’re going to ignore me then at least come to bed for yourself. In the morning you’ll be sore. The couch sin’t comfortable enough.” *pause* “Dongho, I’m serious.” “Goodnight.” *deep sigh* *feet padding against the floor*

MINHYUN

“I like the sound of rain.” “Me too.” *a long pause* “Tell me about your day.” *shuffling* “Wouldn’t you rather continue listening to the rain?” “I like your voice more than the sound of rain.” “Oh- Okay. That’s very smooth of you. Got me feeling a little bit flustered, not gonna lie.” “I know. Just don’t melt on me.” “I already started melting.” “First tell me about your day, like I asked you to.” *sigh* “Alright.”

“You need to leave me alone, mister.” “Hm? Why?” “That’s too evil.” “What’s so evil?” “You’re too cute and my poor small heart can’t take this anymore.” *snicker* “Too funny. You’re too funny.” “No, I’m being just dead honest.” “Go to sleep, (y/n). I can’t handle you right now.” “Good, because I can’t handle you either.” *snickering*

*sniffing* “Minhyun?” “Yes?” *more sniffing* “Are you- smelling me?” “Yes.” *again, sniffing* “Minhyun. Why are you smelling me?” “Your smell- It’s different.” “Oh, you’ve noticed?” “I mean- Yeah?” “Do you like it?” “I suppose? It’s- It’s different. I don’t think I’ve made up my mind yet.” “Ah, you’re a master at making hearts flutter.” “So I’ve been told?”

“Sorry I’m back so late. We’ll spend more time together soon. I promise.”

“I just wanted you to apologize. Is that so much?” “Are we getting back into it? I’m tired.” *a long pause* “You’ve never- explained, what I did wrong.” “I did. So many times. And you just didn’t listen.” “That- If you did then how come I’m still unaware of what I did wrong?” “As I said - that’s because you don’t listen!” “(y/n), I don’t want to get back into the argument, so stop being pushy about it.” *pause* “You know what - whatever.”

REN

“Hey.” “Yes?” “Why are you hanging out so much with Minhyun lately?” “Are you jealous? He’s just a friend, Minki. You’ve got nothing to worry about.” “Yes, I do. He’s my friend and you’re stealing him!” “He’s my friend too!” “I know him much better!” “Yeah? Well, I don’t annoy him as much as you do!” “I do not annoy him!” “Yes, you do! He told me.” “He wouldn’t!”

“What’s with you today?” “What do you mean?” “You’re never this cuddly! Do you want something? Is that it?” “I’m just cuddling you, (y/n)! I’m not offering you a suspicious package to smuggle.” “Yeah, but coming from you it is suspicious.” “Stop accusing and just love me!”

“Do you have any questions?” “Yes, one.” *humming* “What’s in it for me?” “What’s in it for- Are you kidding me? I’m asking you to do me a favor! Me, your boyfriend, or have you forgotten?” “Yes, but you want me to go out and buy you snacks, because you’re too lazy.” “-because I want you to do me a favor. In other words, I want to help you be a better person.” “Whatever you say, Minki.” “What is that supposed to mean?” “That I reject your offer.” “(y/nnn)-” “I can go with you, but not instead of you, you big baby! And don’t try to charm me! I know your ways.” “I’ve created a monster...”

“Can’t believe you’ve fallen asleep without telling me goodnight! Cute ungrateful brat.”

“Minki?” *silence* “Are you still mad at me? Really?” “Wh- Did you just hit me with a pillow?” “Yes. And? You were ignoring me.” “Because I’m mad at you!” “Then stop. I’ve suffered enough.” “And what about my suffering?” “Your suffering doesn’t matter as of now.” “Wow. You really-” “Stop frowning and come for cuddles!” *a deep sigh* “You- You- Ah, whatever.”

➛ pollenat’s list of headcanons

➛ pollenat’s list of shorts

➛ pollenat’s list of scenarios

[birdwonder]

just thought of the idea of Rohan using his stand on reader and seeing on their page they have a big crush on josuke so Rohan either teases them or helps them get together. i think the idea is cute

|| i am SO sorry this took a while longer than i usually take to write. my holiday has left me without a computer so writing long stories takes forever on a phone but i hope these 3,000 words make up for it :,) its 3am so i doubt i editted properly so ill go through it again tomorrow

Josuke Higashikata | Rohan’s Help / Confession

You and Rohan have been friends for a short time. Less than a year to be honest, and yet you two felt like you were as thick as thieves — an unstoppable duo when it came to your friendship. Both of you complimented each other so well, you being able to improve Rohan’s social skills and how he treated others, and Rohan had been making progress with you to be more confident. A kind yet self-loathing highschool student who is best friends with a prideful and stuck up manga artist, who would have thought?

In the small amount of time you two have known each other, you both have been able to pick on small quirks you had and tell-tale signs of your moods. For example, you were currently leaning on the side of Rohan’s desk as he scribbled away on a piece of paper, desperately trying to figure out a new and inventive pose for his next manga page. Your blank, dull eyes staring into the distance and lack of encouraging comments was all Rohan needed to know that something was up with you. Of course, he wasn’t the best at comfort, not when it’s so early into his progress of becoming a better person, so jumping straight to sympathy and questions was not his go-to plan.

“So, what do you think so far?” Rohan questioned with hope, holding up his sketch book with one hand and gesturing towards it with another, hoping that your thoughts on his work would be at least distracting enough from whatever was plaguing your mind. Unfortunately, you only glanced towards the sheet of stunning, detailed figures and hummed halfheartedly before returning to look at absolutely nothing with your chin pressed into the centre of your palm.

Groaning, the artist tore out the page dramatically to then scrunch it up into a tight paper ball, throwing it into the trash-can beside him in a small fit of annoyance. “Right then,” he burst out abruptly, two hands slamming on his desk and his chair scraping backwards as he got up to emphasis his change in mood, “you’re going to tell me what’s wrong right now because right now I can NOT figure out how to draw this next panel, and I can’t do it when you’re sitting here like a... a...”

“Like a what?” You piped up, one brow quirked up which gave you an atypically fed up expression, one so cold it almost sent shivers down Rohan’s spine.

“Like a killjoy!” He finally said, huffing and puffing his cheeks out. “You’re just sitting there, staring like a corpse and I’m actually trying to talk to you!”

Then, you faltered. Your tightly pressed lips tilted downwards and your brows lowered, returning your expression to it’s well known gentle and kind look, something Rohan had greatly missed the last hour or so. “Oh, I’m sorry Rohan, it’s just, oh never mind.” You mumble your last words, a strange pink tint along your cheeks that didn’t go unnoticed by the man who valued every single detail he saw.

Rohan then grabbed your shoulders firmly, forcing you to turn and look at him, his eyes narrowed with an intense stare boring into your own pupils. “[F/N], I refuse to take that as an answer, so let’s try again shall we? What. Is. The matter?”

You gulped a little, sucking in your breath while debating whether or not to tell your trusted companion about the problem that ridiculed you or not. You opted no. With a shake of your head, you gave an apologetic look and your frown only went deeper, “sorry Rohan, it’s really stupid and I just don’t want to say it. I mean, it can’t be solved anyways, so I’m sure I’ll get over it soon!” You placed a hand on his shoulder and forced yourself to smile a little, your heart swelling with some joy over the fact Rohan had clearly grown as a person - showing that he cared for the problems that bedevilled you was one large step from where he was when you first met. “Thank you though, really.”

Your gratitude and certainty may have been enough to rest anyone else’s soul, but not Rohan’s. He simply would not take ‘no’ for an answer. Sighing, he released his grip on you, giving you the message that he wasn’t going to pry anymore until he spoke, “I didn’t want to resort to this but you leave me no choice.”

Before you could question his words a familiar cry of “Heaven’s Door,” was yelled and you felt your body slowly feel lighter, almost weightless as you watched the skin on your face and arms unfold to reveal small prints of words, words you knew revealed everything there was to know about [F/N] [L/N].

Resistance was futile as you struggled to shift away from Rohan’s approaching form, the back of the chair and the wall behind you trapping you inbetween, prayers being your only tactic of getting out of the hectic situation. “Now let’s see,” Rohan hummed, taking a gentle hold of the pages attached to your face between his thumb and index finger, his eyes scanning each word carefully as though missing a single one would be detrimental.

“Rohan, please don’t,” you begged, fear arising in you from the idea that he would find out the cause of your sullen mood. Fear that was quickly picked up on.

“[F/N] [L/N], sixteen years old... Birthday is... Ah, here we are, something more modern. Cereal for breakfast, and currently stressing over the idea that Josuke Higashikata won’t like her...” Rohan’s out loud reading soon quietened and the look he gave you could only be summarised to ‘really?’

Once he pulled away from you, Heaven’s Door effects subsided and your skin was no longer detached from you. You sighed with relief that you were no longer in such a vulnerable state, calm until you began to lightly pound your fists against Rohan’s chest, unable to actually hurt him since you didn’t have to heart to. “Rohan, that was private information, how could you?!”

Rohan clicked his tongue, using only a finger to press against your forehead to push you away. The perks of you being so docile was getting you to stop any hint of aggression was easier than reciting the alphabet.

“I did it for you so I could help you with your problem!” He argued in attempt to defend himself and cringed slightly, speaking with venom in his voice. “How was I supposed to know that you were so worked up over that idiot and not something sensible?”

“He is not an idiot!” You retorted since you hated whenever either Rohan or Josuke insulted each other. Those two really had the potential to be friends with each other, they just never let it work. Regardless, your main concern was the fact your true feelings were revealed and in the worst possible way. You hadn’t meant for anyone to find out about how you feel, not when you were for sure that it wouldn’t matter in the end.

Josuke ... he was amazing. Friendly, strong, funny and whenever he looked with you with those kind eyes and a smile on his plush lips, your heart stopped only to restart beating 1000 beats per minute. You were certain that he was the most perfect person you had ever met, and every memory with him was greatly treasured.

Though you were almost certain he didn’t feel the same. You felt so small compared to him, figuratively that is, and everything he was good at, you seemed to fail at. Confidence, strength, styling the perfect pompadour; you couldn’t even compare to him, even if these all seemed like the most insignificant aspects ever. So, why would he want to be with someone who couldn’t reach his standards ? He wouldn’t.

Your internal self deprecation was silently evident to Rohan as you began to nibble on the bottom of your lip, dejectedly looking down like a lost puppy. No way was he going to let you keep that up, not when he had announced you as a friend to himself and actually cared about how you felt.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Rohan groaned at what he was about to do although he knew it was going to be worth it if it meant you weren’t ruining your hang out times anymore. “Alright, we’re going to make you confess to Josuke.” He declared, catching you off guard, and you weren’t able to even question him as a single finger was suddenly pressed upon your lips, sealing your mouth shut with one simple movement.

“Listen and remember this well, [F/N], you are perfect the way you are and as much as I would hate to see Josuke gain anything he doesn’t deserve,” he paused to retract his hand from your face and instead ruffled your hair, treating you like a younger sibling for a second, “I know being with him would make you happy, so I’m going to help you confess your entirely questionable and possibly delusional love for that delinquent.”

You blinked up at Rohan a few times, mouth agape. There was no way that this was happening, just who was this guy and where was the real manga artist you knew?

“Rohan, I appreciate you wanting to help me, I really do, but there’s no need! It’s a lost cause, let’s just get back to what we were doing before - poses right?” Your attempt to change the subject was quickly brushed off like dust on Rohan’s shoulder when he pinched your nose, an audible ‘ow’ squeaking from you.

Your resistance to the situation was irking Rohan to no end, his drive only stepping on the gas each time you tried to refuse his assistance. There was no way he was going to let you suffer in silence. Besides, if he helped two young, dumb and lovesick teens get together then maybe he could have some insight on how to work around the more romantic scenes of his manga, if he was to ever implement them.

“I’m not taking no for an answer. This is going to happen and you’re going to thank me for it,” the green hair male stated, eyes heavily trained onto you. You gulped.

You really didn’t know where this was going to go.

——

A band of raging drums had surely replaced your heart.

The hammering sound of sticks against percussion instruments was practically akin to the violent, frantic rhythm that pounded against your chest with the diagnosis resulting to be nervousness.

You sucked in your breath and released the built up carbon dioxide by muttering words of encouragement that Rohan had taught you to rehearse to yourself in case of situations like this. Ironically, he was the one who had put you in this nervous wreck state. His vow to have you confess to Josuke had stuck through pretty solidly leaving you in a cute outfit you definitely could not have afford on your lonesome, [Thank you Rohan.] and standing in front of your crush’s door.

Gulping, you began to hype yourself up.

‘I can do this! I can totally do this. No problems here, none at all!’ The repeated phrases were practically a religious mantra at this point; if you were to even dare forget a single one you’re certain life would be a living Hell. Well your stresses shouldn’t matter anymore, you were here now. Just knock. Knock and say what’s on your mind!

The unremitting worries failed to cease however , eating at your brain like parasites that were only starting to leave once you gathered enough courage and balled your hand into a fist, rapped against the wooden door.

It took less than a minute for the door to be unlocked and opened, revealing the tall, well built figure of the one and only - Josuke. For some reason you felt as though none of this actually happening right there and then, like it was some dream or even a nightmare you were going to wake up from any second. You quickly rubbed your eyes to see if that was true. When you opened them, he was still there, his usual stylised school uniform replaced with a regular white t-shirt and dark blue jeans. It wasn’t an unwelcome look but certainly threw you off for a second seeing as it was rare to see him wear anything other than his uniform.

“[F/N], hey!” He greeted,his eyes seeming to light up at the sight of you while a hand gripped the door frame, “didn’t think it’d be you at the door. What’s up?”

The moment he smiled at you, you knew that you had to this. How he instantly had made you feel relaxed would have seemed impossible to you five minutes ago, now you felt as though things would go perfectly. If not for the persistent nagging voice in the back of your head.

“Hi Josuke! I was hoping that I could maybe uhm, talk to you! About something that is. Something really important.” Your wavering voice had caused some concern to flash in Josuke’s eyes; the way he looked down at you with such a caring expression made you want to hide your face into a pillow and squeal.

He responded easily with, “oh sure, is everything alright?” Really, you weren’t even sure if things were alright or if they were going to be at all.

You doubts rose up again and a jumbled ball of words was suddenly caught in your throat, countless words and ways to say your thoughts conjuring up but not a single thing is said. If only you had more confidence — Rohan had spent so long trying to get you to perfect your confession and despite all that effort, you were still struggling.

Glancing down, you noticed that your fingers were a plain sign of your awkwardness. They constantly switched from fiddling with the fabric of your outfit to thumbs twiddling with each other, neither things helping you in the end.

“[F/N]...? You don’t look like your usual self, where’s that cute smile of your’s, huh?”

Oh god, did he just call your smile ‘cute’? Did that just make talking even harder or ten times easier? This boy was going to be the death of you!

Teeth lightly nibbled on your low lip as you argued in your head what to do. You really don’t know if you could ever have the courage to even approach him like this, let alone think about asking him out. Besides, all of Rohan’s efforts would go to waste.

“Josuke!” The sudden change of your volume had clearly surprised the teenager, his brows raising. “I— I have something serious to tell you and I’m sorry for making it so weird so far, it’s just really hard to get through what I want to say.”

Facing him was just too much. You couldn’t handle the idea of looking up to see an uncomfortable, angered, disgusted or any expression that would send you hurdling down a pit of regret. Instead, you stared down at the ground although you paid no real attention to it, your hand clutching at the clothing over your heart, almost as though you were trying to steady the rapid beating drums within your ribcage.

Taking in a deep breath, you continue, “I’m not the best at being outgoing or confident, and as my friend I know you know that, and you’re the exact opposite! You’re bold and kind to everyone and everything about you is incredible. Saying this I think I fully realised why I lo—.”

Again, the words are caught in your throat and you’re visibly struggling, almost choking on what you want to say. None of it goes unnoticed by Josuke, who had been initially taken back by the praise and tone you were using. His smile quickly returned when things became obvious to him, much softer and sweeter than before, his plush lips turning upward all thanks to your adorable stuttering.

He reached out with a large and surprisingly softer than you would have guessed hand, his palm resting against your cheek as he guided you to look up at him with both your eyes staring into each other’s.

“Do you want to come inside?”

The question was short and simple though it still took some time to process. You made a small, questioning ‘eh’ sound to which Josuke laughed at.

“You don’t have to stress so much, whatever you’re going to say I’m sure I’m going to like hearing,” he told you, stepping to the side so that you now had room to enter his house, a hand gesturing for you to come inside. “Maybe things would be easier if we had something to drink? My mum’s not home so we can watch a movie too!”

You had no idea how things got to this but you didn’t want to ask. If what Josuke said was true and that he was really going to like whatever you said then, why rush? It was probably better to wait for when the atmosphere was much more relaxed anyways. Things just seemed more right that way. The relationship between you and Josuke were always so casual so it was best to confess just like that. He was a serious God send to be so nice and understanding.

You mouthed a ‘thank you’ before walking through the door with small pep in your step and butterflies swarming in a welcomed fashion in your stomach. Josuke followed you, closing the door behind him as the two of you started to strike up a conversation about your week and what movie the two of you wanted to watch, every worry and care flying free and becoming lost in the sky.

From across the street stood a smiling manga artist, ready to walk home with nothing but pride in his heart for his shy and growing friend. All he really had left to worry about was whether or not Josuke would treat you right.

[siimjaeyun]

Chapter 8: Family Troubles 

Synopsis: When two beasts appear in Seoul, destroying buildings and businesses, it might just teach your mystery-solving group a thing or two about relationships, both friendly and family ones. 

Series Masterlist 

------- 

“I must say Mayor Lee, it was a great idea to open a Tiki Place here in Seoul.” Chief Kim commented while sipping on the drink held in his hand. 

“Anything for Seoul, and I also applaud you for keeping Seoul criminal free.” 

The two men brought their glasses together in a celebratory manner; they sat back comfortably in their seats as they applauded the singer who was on stage performing. 

“Thank you everyone for coming tonight, I hope you all had fun.” The female singer bowed down slightly, and a shriek escaped from the guests. She turned and met a giant furry body. The green giant hurled a table to the roof of the restaurant, and proceeded to destroy the surrounding places like the tables and stage. 

“Just wonderful.” 

------- 

“Uh...did I do something wrong?” Heeseung peered through the mirror at the friends who were caught up in avoiding each other's glares. 

“Jungwon is upset because Sunoo and Niki went to see a movie without him. Then, Jay and y/n got into a fight last night.” Sunghoon summarized it lighty and yes he was right. 

Let’s start with the younger trio shall we. Niki, who had recently moved and joined their friend group, had been warmly welcomed by the duo Sunoo and Jungwon, two tight knit members who were pulled into mysteries by their older friends in middle school. It just so happened that Niki who was the youngest, became so loved by both Jungwon and Sunoo, as well as everyone else. Jungwon was just upset that they couldn’t hang out the three of them instead of choosing partners in their new friend trio. 

Now as for you and Jay, that's a lot messier. It all started with your parents coming into the living room and telling Jay that he was prohibited from solving mysteries which to him was unfair considering his twin sister, aka you, were allowed to. Which ended in a battle of jealousy and reliving past trauma. 

“Well, maybe a mystery will cheer us up. There was an attack at the Tiki restaurant last night.” Heeseung pulled over, and parked the van near the now shredded sight. An awkward pause settled in and it remained when Sunghoon, Jake, and Heeseung were left staring at their other five friends who kept looking at each other. 

Eventually, they got off the van as well. They split, searching for clues and witnessing a man in a blue suit who appeared to be the owner of the construction place. 

“Been earning good money I tell you. Sham’s Construction is gonna have to thank these beasts.” The man cackled and introduced himself as Mr.Sham to you. 

“At least we know someone is happy.” You whispered sarcastically into Jake’s ear. You went off with Jake, and kept taking photographs of the site, trying to find inconsistencies. 

“Chief Kim, do you know what happened?” 

“This green giant, who I have decided to call a Humungonaut, came and destroyed the place. You should have seen the damn beast. Powerful.” 

“At least there’s only one of them.” Ah, yes, bad luck was definitely in your favor today, seeing as a red colored beast surged from the hair salon on the other block. It picked up a car and flinged it towards the site of rubble from the Tiki place. 

“Nice going Jay.” 

“Me? Please, save your breath will you sissy.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t know I wasn’t worthy of being in the same area of the great mighty Jay Park.” 

“That’s enough of the both of you.” Sunghoon gave you two a stern look before forcing you into the opposite directions. 

“We need to focus on the task here. Be mindful of others guys.” Sunoo tried convincing his friends before Jungwon came up with his own thoughts. 

“Now you want to be mindful of others? Must have been good thinking considering you didn’t bother to invite me to your little hangout huh!” Now it was the trio’s turn to start bickering which led to Heeseung dragging them down to his home. 

-------

“We need an intervention. We’re not gonna get anywhere if they keep fighting.” Jake sat on the chair with his head resting on the table, before an idea came into his head. 

“How about we do an intervention?” 

“Like therapy?” The ring of the doorbell intervened in their conversation and Heeseung happily opened the door for Chief Kim who appeared alongside materials for a BBQ. 

“I knew we’d need help so I called Chief Kim.” 

Clearly, Heeseung was not accurate in seeking the help of Chief Kim, seeing as his only response and solution to your friend issues was, “Maybe you should leave town and go your own ways.” 

“The problem here is Sunoo! How dare you hang out with Niki without me!?” 

“Because you don’t like horror movies!” 

“The real problem here is spelled J-A-Y P-A-R-K who clearly doesn’t believe in his sister!” 

“Not everything is about you y/n!” 

Another fight broke out in their session which left Heeseung to drop a giant box onto the table to cut their unfriendly conversation. 

“How about we use this pent up anger on I don’t know catching two monsters,” he opened the box and gave each member a suit, “this is our new uniform. Hurry before I grab each of you by the ear.” 

All of you looked at the uniforms, a dissatisfaction growing on your faces. The white tracksuits were clearly not what you imagined to be Heeseung’s quick solution to your problems . 

You arrived at another place that had been attacked, and while all of you appreciated and loved Heeseung with your full hearts, you weren’t a fan of the uniforms. In fact, the moment the team arrived, you all lowered your heads while you investigated the scene. 

“Tsk, look who’s here.” Sunghoon nudged you with his elbow and you looked at Mr.Sham who arrived with a giant truck carrying away the rubble that remained. 

------ 

Two signs hung on the side of the road: Bobby Minner Insurance, and right next to it Robby Minner Insurance. 

“Is trespassing a construction site really the only answer?” Heeseung ignored Sunoo’s worries and used his bolt cutters to lift the lock up. 

“Hurry before we get caught.” All of you split into teams, different ones of course. Your petty fights resulted in avoiding each other at all costs. 

Without a warning, one of the beasts appeared once more and Mr.Sham was seen running away from his office building as he managed to escape the explosives that were set from afar. 

All of you made your walks in a zigzag pattern, and crashed onto the side of the road with Mr.Sham falling afterwards with you. 

“Guess Mr.Sham isn’t the humungonaut.” Jay let out an awkward chuckle before Mr.Sham turned his head to glare at him, but later joined in witnessing how his business had been consumed in flames. 

------- 

“Looking for insurance? Well, Bobby Minner is the best place to be..” The ad played in the background before a defeated sigh left the mouth of the teen’s in the van. 

“This leaves us back at zero.” They crossed their arms and bolted up when the radio began to play a static sound and a voice was heard on the radio. 

“Why..hello Mystery Co…” It was JK. 

“Since you guys seem to have some hard time figuring this out, let me give you a riddle. Open your ears, and you’ll head the answer. Open your eyes, and pay attention to the signs. The solution will be ensured. Later kids.” 

The static once more took over, and the original sound of the radio played again, “Robby Minner’s insurance is the way to go.” 

“You know, it would be nice if he just told us the clues straightforwardly.” Niki commented as he rested his head on the seat. 

-------

“Dad, come on, this humungonaut is a threat.” Heeseung argued with his father and Chief Kim, who honestly speaking, could care less about his worries. 

“We will do something. Chief.” Chief Kim strolled over to the center of the room, setting up his presentation with a portrait. 

“Your solution is a bowl of salad?” Sunoo asked sarcastically while staring at the misdrawn image in front of him. 

“No! We’re planning to host a humungonaut event: people pay to see them destroy things. Perfect business.” 

Clearly, the money and tourism seemed to be the priority. 

“This is the best idea, people pay money to see the monster get caught in our trap.” A shocked expression fell upon Heeseung’s face before he slammed his hands on his father’s desk. 

“A trap! You’re building a trap without me!? My own father!?” He slightly quivered his lips before hanging his head low as he exited the room. Poor boy had just been heartbroken. 

“You’ll get over it,” Mayor Lee stopped mid-way as he finally took in the uniforms on your bodies, “Are you guys going to a costume party?” 

Just when it was time for you to leave, all of you responded with a hard “no,” not bothering to explain that it was Heeseung’s idea too. 

“That sucks, because you look ridiculous.” 

------- 

“They’re so stupid, they’re clearly amateurs.” Jake and Sunghoon turned their heads from the computer screen and looked at their oldest friend who was busy using his binoculars to observe the traps set in the stadium. 

“GO RED!” “GO GREEN!” In the meantime, Jungwon and Sunoo began swinging at each other with their foam fingers, hurting their other friend Niki in the process. 

“Anyway, what have you managed to find?” Both you and Jay looked at the duo who seemed puzzled at the sight and map on their screen. 

“Hmm...there’s no clear pattern, but they only attack certain sites and businesses. This humungonaut really is confusing.” Jake responded, slightly leaning towards you. 

“It’s even more confusing than JK’s riddles.” Jungwon commented, which left Jake to enter into an aha moment. 

“You’re a genius Jungwon. Come on, the humungonaut won’t be here.” Jake took your hand and helped you out of the seats as the other followed behind, leading you to the final destination for these humungonauts. 

------- 

“Got the plan? When the humungonauts appear, you use the pulley to get them, got it?” The younger trio nodded their heads and took their positions. 

It wasn’t long before the humungonauts appeared at the boat warehouse: a place where Jake had led all of you as well. 

When the two beats caught sight of each other, they immediately grabbed each other by the necks. Their large size caused the floor under you to shake violently, and they broke through a couple boats before finally rolling into the small pool of water inside a building. 

“Pull!” The net pulled them upward and the two beats collapsed tiredly onto each other in the buddle of the net. 

“It worked?” Sunghoon was surprised that his trap worked so efficiently the first time given their long history. 

“Good thing those tickets were non-refundable.” Mayor Lee and Chief Kim came walking towards them and were startled by the beasts. 

“Your trap actually worked?” 

“Hey, don’t act too surprised.” Heeseung crossed his arms and saw as Jake pulled a staircase towards the two giants. 

“Hello creatures, I would like to welcome you to our humble earth planet.” Chief Kim began his long-winded speech before Jake finally managed to reach the top. 

“Sorry to disappoint Chief Kim, but these are no monsters at all. It’s Robby and Bobby Minner.” He pulled on the masks and the Minner twins were right underneath. 

“But how did you know Jake?” 

“Remember JK’s riddle, I just had to place these businesses under each of their insurances.” The rest of you looked confused, and settled your sights on the brothers who were peaking through the mesh. 

“That’s right. Our rivalry began since our circus days as strong men. We were always a duo, but one day he just left the team and joined a rival circus. Who would have known we would join the insurance business? We used the costumes to destroy each other’s business and get revenge.” Robby Minner gave a pause before his brother looked at him, “and we would have would have gotten away with it too, if it wasn’t for my meddling brother!” The twins yelled the phrase at the same time before fighting with each other again. Chief Kim and others had arrived to take them away. 

“Guys, that was great team work!” Heeseung exclaimed happily before you all looked at each other. 

“Sunoo, we’re sorry we didn’t invite you. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.” 

“I’m sorry too.” Sunoo and Jungwon joined each other into a hug before welcoming Niki to join. 

You sighed and looked at Jay. 

“I’m sorry for hurting you. Seeing those twins really made me think that I don’t want to hate or resent you in a few years. Sometimes I get jealous of how perfect you are, but it doesn’t give me a right to be mean with you.” 

“No, I’m also sorry. Truth is, I’m jealous that mom and dad give you so much freedom, and you still do well in school. I guess the stress got to me, and I’m sorry for putting you in a situation like that.” Now it was your turn to give Jay a hug. 

“I’m so glad this is settled, see? All we need is our strong bond.” Heeseung smiled warmly at his friends before Sunghoon lifted one of his eyebrows. 

“Does this mean we also don’t need uniforms?” 

“I guess not.” Heeseung did not even complete his sentence before seeing as his friends took off the tracksuits and tossed them into the van. 

“We love you Heeseung, but maybe we should just keep the name of Mystery Co.” You comforted him and all of you took a seat by the deck. The stars glistened in the dark, and it left you to enjoy the peaceful moment with the people you loved the most. 

-------- 

Next- Chapter 9: Vampires and Prison Visits 

Tag List: @softkons @nikisboxysmile

(send an ask to join the taglist!) 

[shadow-scenarios]

Omggg how you wrote out my request certainly surprised me but I totally enjoyed what you did with it!! And you said that you'd love to write a second part? Well, may I perhaps request that? 👀👀 (P.S.: I'm really relieved that you liked the idea haha, I've been sitting on it for awhile)

Hey again, simulationone!! I’m happy you like the direction I look it in. I was going to have the Reader become Akechi’s Navigator but I think that was a better direction to take it. Also, I tried a different style with this one, so I hope you like it!!

I loved the idea, it was so unique! If you have anything else that you want to request, you’re more than welcome to. By the way, this is suuuper angsty. If you don’t like that kind of thing, skip this post!!

Link to Part 1 here!!

- Nexus.

Trigger Warning: Major Character Death ;; Blood ;; Violence ;; Injuries ;; Swearing

Dance With Justice [2] | Goro Akechi

Perhaps there was a reality where she never had to hurt anyone. A world in which the Phantom Thieves never existed & justice was never an issue. Everyone could simply be happy without any concerns. However, thus was not her current fate.

This was never supposed to happen. She was going to die here, stuck in Mementos until she bled out.

{ Sat, 23 / 10 / 20XX }

Akechi had laid the plan out to her on this day: He had been given an opportunity to meet with the Phantom Thieves at the Shujin Academy. In particular, there was a panel in which a Q&A style show was being held. All they had to do was attend & imply they knew the identities of the Phantom Thieves before he ‘ inconveniently received a phone call ’. Afterwards, the group would be forcibly assembled in the Faculty Room & there they would unfurl the evidence. The photos the both of them had gathered & the video of them disappearing into the Metaverse.

As a result, they would be forced to stop committing their crimes after they took down the Palace of one individual in particular: Sae Niijima. He did admit that he was afraid for the life of his colleague because she was investigating the Phantom Thieves. If they were the perpetrators behind the metal shutdowns, she might be targeted next because she was seen as a threat.

However, there was one thing they were not to be informed about. The additional plan to arrest their leader as a warning of sorts. Additional police forces were to be sent out into the Metaverse & they would corner him when he was alone. It was quite simple but effective. All they had to do was cooperate with them.

This was all communicated to her over lunch in the school rooftop & she nodded, steeling her resolve.

{ Wed, 26 / 10 / 20XX }

Alas, the school festival came too quickly. The first day was ‘ unimportant ’, according to Akechi { although he did look rather embarrassed when she asked what happened with the Phantom Thieves... }.

It was about 20 minutes before the panel was due to start & she had already taken a seat somewhere near the centre. People were already gathered at this point because the Famous Ace Detective: Goro Akechi was going to be answering questions. Frankly, she found it quite creepy the levels most fans went to in order to see him.

Eventually the debate began. Makoto Niijima, student Council President, was hosting & essentially demanded answers related to his detective work reguarding the Phantom Theives. It was immensely impressive how he managed to dance around the answers, giving something vague yet satisfying. Was this is the life of a celebrity?

The question about the identity of the mysterious group soon came up. As her cue came, she texted him & there was the sound of Akechi’s ringtone going off. Silence spread through the auditorium in a strange mix of disappointment & comedic timing. After making a remark along the lines of not wanting to be trolled online, he quickly requested that a break be tacked on.

Quietly, she moved her way across the row & slipped out before the crowd could congest any corridors. The PE Faculty Office was easy enough to find, with many students easily offering directions. Slipping in before anyone else, there he stood.

“ Akechi. Are you ready for this? There’s no going back after we present the evidence. ”

“ Of course. The Phantom Thieves are a menace to society & by getting rid of them, people will finally feel safe in Japan. That’s what you want as well, right? ”

“ Yeah. Murderers aren’t welcome. ”

Once they had all entered, she presented the photographic evidence & introduced herself. Ryuji was in shock. Makoto seemed to be struggling to process the information. Explaining how both herself & Akechi had met, she pressed onto the point: Sae Niijima. She had to be saved from the mental shutdown culprits. An agreement of sorts was made by their rather stoic leader Akira. They would all work together to solve the cases.

{ Wed, 16 / 10 / 20XX & Thurs 17 / 11 / 20XX }

After the initial investigation into Sae’s Palace, keywords & location, these were the days of infiltration, so to speak. The Casino of Jealousy was vibrant & full of money. Coins were messily spread around on every single surface, posters containing snappy tag lines about how winning was key to survival. It was all so decadent. Cognitive shadows lined up for a chance to participate in the game known as the legal system. What a sick way to look at justice.

Despite the crimes they had committed, the Phantom Theives were very casual. They showed no symptoms of guilt nor doubt & insisted on these strangely flashy moves such as the All-Out Attack or the Showtime, in which they would defeat a bundle of enemies all at once. Although they were powerful, did they really feel the need to show off that much?

The other problem was their leader, Joker. He was tenaciously gripping onto both herself & Akechi { or Crow, was it? She never understood the need for the ridiculous code names... } to remain on the front lines to see what they could both do. Despite having bounds of energy at the beginning & regular breaks, it was quite tiring to keep having to constantly battle. Perhaps that was why she ended up being held captive by a Shadow.

It demanded Yen & safety. It was not a substantial amount of money & the Palace’s supposed ‘ Security Level ’ was not particularly high. She had seen how Akira had been picking through remains of the corpses of these beings, as they contained Yen. For some unknown reason during the negotiation, he simply refused to part. Apparently Joker, the supposed leader of the just Phantom Thieves believed some money more important than an ally.

Even as the shadow tore through skin & left almost fatal wounds, it hurt more to reaffirm her belief that the Phantom Theives were merciless.

Waking up was a surprise to be sure. To be greeted by Akechi in the nearest Safe Room asking if she was okay? It was very much a shock. He offered to patch up the wounds that were unreadable by her own hands & scolded her for being so reckless on that battlefield. It was good that both Queen & Mona were on hand, otherwise she would have died. Despite the presence of the other members of the group, this felt like a rather intimate moment.

The two of them kept having these strange moments: Delicately & intimate but as though something was missing.

A touch that lingered for longer than it needed to; Comforting words on a cool evening when she felt upset; Sitting within close proximity despite there being more space for the two of them than needed. Small signs that seemed to be hesitantly trying to convey something.

Even now as she paused to take in his appearance, it was startling. Dressed up in his princely regalia that was his Metaverse outfit, he looked rather charming. With golden tassels & a red cape, something about him seemed to just ooze noble. Though at times he could be slightly extra with the poses he pulled, Akechi was kind.

That was why she never saw it coming.

{ Thurs, 18 / 10 / 20XX }

Signaling for a meeting, Akira explained that they were going to write & send the Calling Card today. The debate about where to send it was long, strenuous & boring. After they eventually decided to be direct by mailing it to the Niijima residence, everyone disbanded for the day.

Aside for Akechi, who invited her to play Darts in Kichijoji. What a strange request.

The atmosphere was actually rather calming. At night, there were few around to disturb them. Handing over 800 Yen to play, the game began. It was nice to simply be able to talk about something unrelated to the Phantom Thieves for the both of them & although Akechi’s aim was unerring, she found it rather difficult to hit the tiny target, let alone land it in a specific place to score as many points as possible. After a while & with some expert advice, there was definitely some improvement.

By the time night struck, she had barely noticed until he had pointed it out. Everything was moving so swiftly. Offering to walk her to the train station, he was ever so polite. Until it rained.

It absolutely poured down with rain as the two of them descended the stairs of Penguin Sniper. Luckily, she had packed an umbrella into a crevice in her bag. The detective next to her? Not quite as fortunate as he sighed. Feeling bad, she offered to share & he accepted with reluctance after realising that it was better than the alternative of running home in the rain.

Being this close was both enthralling & embarrassing. Something about being forced this close to him was killing her. Akechi seemed to be doing alright, staying underneath to avoid both his hair & briefcase from becoming drenched by the cascading water. After a while that was in some respects a long time but in others not long at all, they reached the train station, parting ways when they had a difference in train line.

She knew exactly what she was feeling: There was no use in denial. Repressing such feelings would be more painful in the end. However, now was not the time to tell him. Catching the Phantom Thieves & saving Japan was more important than a high school romance. Filing the secret away for later, it was kept close to her heart.

{ Fri, 19 / 10 / 20XX }

It was almost too easy how quick everything was to fall into place. Putting on her best acting face was difficult but it was a believable lie, especially when most of the stress was based around getting Joker out alive. All their valiant efforts were for nothing. Similar to a spider spinning a web to catch prey, they had fallen victim.

After facing down the shadow of Sae Niijima herself on this strange roulette like battlefield, her desperate desire to achieve victory at all costs was her downfall & as she fell to her knees, clearly defeated, Queen went over to comfort her. Skull took Fox with him to steal the Treasure & once they discovered the numerous police forces that had made their way into the Metaverse, everything was taken up a notch.

Whilst Joker agreed to take the Treasure, thus becoming a distraction, everyone else would take the time to escape back to reality. A makeshift plan but one that would work in both her own & Akechi’s favour. Dashing along the protruding walls of the casino was thrilling as the group moved in sync, grappling along & weaving through like a natural born instinct.

Inevitably, he was captured. The leader of the Phantom Thieves, put behind bars. People would be safe from the mental shutdowns, they would no longer have to worry about having a psychotic breakdown. Without the branch that held them all together, there were no roots. As to not arouse suspicions, everyone parted ways until Akechi stopped her.

“ I... Know it’s rather late & we’ve just been to the Palace but there’s something I need to warn you about in the Metaverse. Will you join me in Mementos tomorrow morning? Preferably before school, if that’s okay with you, ” was all he requested with a ghost of a smile.

“ Sure, I don’t mind. Is there something else dangerous I should be worrying about? ”

“ It’s nothing too urgent but I thought I’d bring it to your attention since we are working on this case with the Phantom Thieves together. After all, we still need to hold the others accountable for their actions. ”

With that, she left. Akechi had always been a reliable source of information, so why would he lie?

{ Sat, 20 / 10 / 20XX }

It was the early morning. Despite the cold, she was in warm spirits as she approached the Shibuya line. Waiting there for her was the Detective Prince himself. Overnight, there was a decision made that once Akechi broke this bad news to her that she would change the mood by confessing. After all, it would be difficult to keep under lock & key.

Fading into the background as other students filtered in, they talked for a short period of time before getting down to business. Typing in ‘ Mementos ’ to the MetaNav was easy enough & there they were, standing at the dusty entrance.

Together, they fought their way down into a few floors below the surface. Although it took longer for them to traverse these levels due to not having a method of transportation such as the Mona Car, the Shadows were easy pickings for the two of them. At least, that is what she thought until two laser blasts from a ray gun burnt into her back.

Standing over her was a very different Goro Akechi to the person she had preciously known. What was once a charismatic smile that could charm anyone become a psychotic grin that looks unnaturally wide. Though she had once thought of his eyes as a storm of emotions, worries about the future & the safety of Japan, they were most definitely a typhoon, pulling victims in to tear them apart without a trace of mercy. Even as he called her a blind fool for trusting him & berated her sense of justice, the burning pain of the wounds that burnt through the Metaverse outfit were clouding her vision. She could have sworn there was the sound of someone walking away but there was too many sensations for her to clearly tell.

No one was going to find a dead body in the depths of Mementos. She found it morbidly ironic that her last thought was that she would never be able to tell Akechi how she truly felt.

Word Count: 2.3k

Publish Date: 06.10.20

[youwerenevermeanttofeelalone]

Join Me | Victor Von Doom

Pairing: Victor Von Doom x Plus Size Reader (she/her)

Word Count: 2k

Request: may I please request some NSFW with comic!doctor doom and a short plus size reader who is very sweet and motherly and she dotes on him and loves him deeply. But she is sometimes very self-conscious about her body and the fact that he is so much smarter than her and she is afraid he'd get bored of her someday?

Warnings: nsfw, light angst, reader is a little insecure and Victor kinda doesn’t understand why, smut, fingering, unprotected sex (please, don’t do this), vaginal sex, fluff

❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎

Surrounded by open books and with a notebook resting on your lap, you found yourself enjoying the breeze of the night. You had the balcony all to yourself, your only company was the whooshing of the trees and the stridulating from the crickets.

The setup was comfortable, you had gotten used to doing homework outside. It helped you work quicker and understand clearer, to be the most efficient you had ever been — at least academically.

Flexing your left leg under your extended right one, you leaned over to take notes that would be helpful for your upcoming exam. You would be lying if you said you weren’t nervous, but making Victor proud was more important.

You weren’t at his level, a part of you was sure you would never be. Trying your hardest was your only option to not feel as though you were a burden. There wasn’t a thing Victor didn’t excel at — there was nothing about him anyone would qualify as a flaw, much less yourself.

The light of your eyes and compass of your life he had been since the day you met him. An enticing enigma you couldn’t help but wish to unravel. You thought yourself to be dreaming when he confessed his desires to court you, how a man as regal and powerful as him would ever grow interested in someone like you was a mystery you weren’t interested in solving when he made you so happy.

That was the main reason why you wanted him to be proud, to comfortably take care of his worries and businesses with the certainty you were as prepared to be whatever he needed you to be.

Steps behind you prompted you to close the notebook. You stacked it on top of the books and pushed yourself upward to stand up as the sound of metal clanking filled your ears.

Placing the books and pencil case on the desk near the French doors, you approached Victor. “Let me help you.”

He ceased his movements, standing still before you. He, however, briefly focused his attention on the books you had been lost in. “Are the professors overwhelming you with homework?”

You shook your head, standing on your tiptoes to unclasp the chest piece of his armor. “How was your day?”

Victor complained about the inanity of the American government’s existence as you placed the armor in its place, piece by piece just the way he liked. You were used to it, they weren’t as efficient as him. And even if they were, he hated them, it had never been a secret and no one could blame him — as complicated as Victor was, he had always been clear in his convictions.

He sat on the edge of the bed, watching you as though you would escape if he didn’t keep an eye on you. He had been doing the same for the past two weeks which only made you feel more nervous.

“You’re busy all the time,” he observed.

Not sure how to take the comment, you handed him a pajama and changed the topic. “Do you want me to run you a bath?”

Victor frowned. His patience was wearing thin, every night you avoided his worries and instead focused on whatever he could need. Victor loved the attention, your love and care had filled a hole in him and made him find a side of him he had only seen while around little Valeria; but he wanted to give you the same, to have a normal conversation with you like at the beginning of your relationship.

Had he done something wrong? Was life in Doomstadt so boring you preferred focusing on getting a second degree?

“Are you leaving me?” He blurted upon seeing you come back from the bathroom.

You frowned. “Of course not. Come, the water is just the way you like it.”

Not taking his eyes off you, he stood. Offering his hand for you to take it, he stared so hard he ceased blinking. Your hesitation made him swallow harshly, your touch eased off the string of doubts and inquires simmering up his throat as the fear of being abandoned once again bubbled up.

His slow steps prompted you to check his body a third time in search of fresh injuries. You didn’t find any. He must have been tired, poor thing.

“Join me.” It wasn’t an invitation but a command.

A silent nod was your only reaction. Dropping his hand in order to get rid of your clothes, you heard him sigh. A splash then filled your ears — you almost giggled, you would have if the air between you wasn’t so tense.

His eyes were heavy on you, so deep you swore their warmth had been replaced by darkness. Steading yourself against the edges of the tub as you sunk into the water, you fully faced him.

Victor rested his cheek on his hand. He inhaled sharply, “I am aware of my failings as a partner, yet I foolishly assumed our relationship was salvable...”

Dropping your gaze, you bit your bottom lip. For a while now you had seen such words coming. You couldn’t fathom why he would ask if you would leave him when he was the one considering it.

“Could you please not dump me while I’m naked in the same bathtub as you?” you pleaded for your dignity.

“I am not dumping you, as you say.”

“Perhaps you should.” You didn’t mean it, but truth to be told, the weight of everyone’s —including your own— expectations were getting too heavy to carry. There were many people who would be better than you at loving him, at ruling Latveria beside him,

“I don’t understand what is it that you want,” he admitted.

You swirled the warm water with your finger, letting the bubbles brush your skin as the water ever so slightly rippled.

Victor took your silence as a sign of indifference. “In fact,” he continued, “I don’t understand how you can be so caring toward me and then...”

“It’s not your fault,” you assured him in a whisper. “I am the problem.”

He scoffed. “How cliché of you.”

“Well, how insensitive of you!” you countered, setting your jaw when you felt him move. “I am honestly telling you there’s nothing wrong with you, or my affections toward you, or... I don’t know, anything that isn’t me, but you have to take it personally because you’re so perfect you can’t understand m—“

“(Y/N),” his voice changed, the cold tone went out of the window then, “breathe, love.”

You breathed in, nodding. His hands found yours underwater just as you were opening your mouth to continue explaining yourself. Victor squeezed them in an attempt to keep you from getting more overwhelmed.

“I’m not good enough,” you confessed, “not always.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” He leaned over, dropping one of your hands to place his palm on your thigh. You tensed under his touch, making him tilt his head.

“I’m not smart like you, I can’t solve problems...” you bit your bottom lip, avoiding his eyes in attempts of keeping your tears at bay.

“Of course you can solve problems, simply not in the same way I do. You are sweet and kind. Everyone here loves you, my dear,” Victor slid his hand to your waist, fingers brushing your soft stomach in their way upward. Pulling you toward him, he rested his back against the tub again.

You carefully placed your hand on his shoulder. Splashing water as you fit yourself on his lap, you finally stared at him to asses what he wanted.

“You’ve made me a better ruler and a better man,” he fervently spoke, “I wouldn’t trade you for the universe.”

He had been a God and found it beneath him, but you? Oh, you were his equal, his queen, everything he had ever dreamed and so much more. Happiness hadn’t been in his vocabulary until he started courting you, now the world looked brighter with you by his side — worth saving instead of merely conquering.

“I’m afraid you’ll get tired of me,” you lamented, “find someone prettier, more attractive...”

“Such a person doesn’t exist, not in my eyes.”

“Bu—“ your words died in your throat, this time because Victor grew impatient and slammed his lips onto yours.

Kissing him back, you allowed your eyes to flutter closed. Your hand moved to his cheek where your thumb gently brushed circles around the tender scars under your fingertips.

His grip tightened on your waist. Victor deepened the kiss by prying your mouth open, relishing on your soft sighs as your body relaxed. One of his hands slipped down to your thigh, caressing it softly as you parted from his lips to get some air.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, inching his hand closer to your pussy. His hand stopped at your mount. “Is this okay?”

Taking a shuddering breath, you nodded. Reaching your clit, he circled it gently with his thumb — pleasure ran through you and your head dropped onto his shoulder. Hiding your face in the crook of his neck, you mouthed at his skin as he gradually moved his thumb faster and applied more pressure.

A moan slipped out of your throat, making him smile as the hand on his chest traveled downward. You started stroking his cock when he slipped two fingers inside you. Whimpering his name, you gripped the base of his cock a little too tight which prompted him to whimper too.

As he felt your walls tighten around his fingers, Victor withdrew them. You groaned in annoyance, thinking it was one of his teasing games. On the contrary, he thrust up in your hand so you would get the hint.

His cock brushed your folds once you took your hand off it. Biting your lip, you lifted your head from his shoulder to look at him. He gave you a hungry look through his eyelashes and you couldn’t believe you had doubted his attraction toward you as his eyes then roamed down your torso.

Impatiently, Victor took you by the hips. Letting out a giggle, you placed both hands on his shoulders and eased yourself onto his cock. His threw his head back, humming in pleasure as you took your time.

The position wasn’t new to you, but the place was. You weren’t sure as to how to move so the water wouldn’t overflow. Asking would probably ruin the mood so you risked it and tentatively moved your hips.

The slow movements were nice, a difference from how sex was usually with Victor. You liked both equally, this one was simply more exciting because of its novelty. He seemed to think the same, at least that was what his expression told you as he uncharacteristically let you do whatever you wanted.

He grew bored of just watching and take it, though. One of his hands ran up your torso to your chest. He kneaded your breast, breath getting harsh as your hands went back to his neck where you this time gripped for more leverage. Thrusting up to meet your movements, Victor kissed his way up from your chest to your neck and then your mouth.

Your moans got louder when he hammered into you harder. The splashing water was the least of your worries, you were lost in the pleasure as now his hands roamed your body, and his mouth sucked on your nipples.

You released a long whimper when he started continuously hitting your spot. He took it as encouragement and quickened his movements. It didn’t take long for you to come undone, him following just behind in slow yet deep thrusts. You clung to him, breath unsteady and head buzzing with the intensity of your orgasm. Victor continued kissing your neck and face, breathing on your skin through his nose.

“The water isn’t warm anymore,” you told him, annoyed by the fact his warm bath had been ruined.

Grunting, he gently pulled you off his lap. “It doesn’t matter. Let’s take a shower and go to bed.”

You moved slowly, more tired than you anticipated. The shower was a blur, you didn’t recall which pajama you had put on or if you had dried your hair or not. It didn’t matter either, you were in bed with the man you loved, clung to his torso as your head rested on his stomach and his arms around you.

[ratsoh-writes]

My curiosity got me, so here is my submission for a match up.  Sorry it’s so long!  I look forward to seeing your reasoning.

PERSONALITY TRAITS:

MOM FRIEND:  I’m the friend that is almost over prepared for any situation and is protective, usually keeping others out of too much trouble or danger, but not stopping them from doing that stupid thing.  Some people will only learn from doing it and so long as it won’t seriously injure or kill them, go for it.  And I mean I am seriously prepared for most situations:  I have fluffy throw blankets and pillows in my car for those who get cold, extra towels just in case we somehow get wet, umbrellas/ponchos for those who need one, snacks/water just in case someone gets hungry/thirsty, first aid kit for small injuries, etc. Ironically, I am the only one without a kid so far.  

Extension of this would be my habit to act as the friend “nurse.”  Willing to spend hours taking care of a friend who isn’t feeling well and give platonic cuddles if needed.

Another extension of this is my need to feed anyone who comes over.  I think my love language is acts of service after typing all this. 

I’M LISTENING:  Always willing to offer an ear, even if I don’t believe I can council you.  Plus, for some reason, people just end up splurging life stories or something that is bothering them to me.  My life is mostly spent as that Naruto meme: “I have no clue what is going on, but I’ll pretend that I do.”  But I’m responsible about it, I won’t offer advice I’m not sure about and will usually refer you to someone else I feel is up to the task.

PATIENT:  Earned after years in customer service dealing with toddlers disguised as customers and also with friends who far exceed my energy levels.  It takes a good bit to anger me or very specific things to set me off, such as when I have asked you to please stop bringing up that stressful memory of mine again and again. 

I am told I am terrifying when I’m actually pissed.  Most times I don’t remember much when I actually snap, just that it happened, but details are fuzzy.  

CHILL:  My counselor once told me if I “Was any more laid back, I’d be on her floor.” And to a point, she is correct.  My house was on fire and my reaction wasn’t panic at the time, it was this odd calm that even when I reported the fire to my sister and authorities, they didn’t believe me until I showed them said fire.  I am reserved with those I don’t know well or are not comfortable around.  Once I trust you or you get me on a topic I love, I’m surprisingly passionate and animated.  

I feel this fits under here, but I also tend to do things at my own pace.  And not much can change that pace, but I will get what I set out to do done.

WHY ME?:  Too many people tell me I’m a natural leader, even got awards for it, but I never volunteer or want to be the leader in anything.  Usually, I just end up in that role somehow, some way.  Most times because I hate disorganized messes and those times the people I am with have trouble making concrete decisions and need some guidance to work out what they really want to do or the pressure to actually make a decision.  I may be an unwilling leader, but I will step up if needed.

WHIMSICAL:  Sarcasm, dry and sometimes cheesy humour, and an attitude to boot, but it’s rarely to be mean.  Most times it is me being playful and if I’m teasing you, that usually is a sign I like you and enjoy your company.  Plus, sometimes people need a little laugh or a spark of different emotion to get them out of a funk.  

INTEGRITY:  I could absolutely despise someone, but like hell I’m going watch them suffer.  In the same sense, if I take a job, I will do it right and not half ass it.  And far too many times I’ve had to step in and explain certain concepts in order to disperse negativity or help others see from another perspective to avoid adversity.  

CUDDLE BUG:  With people I am comfortable with, I am a cuddly person and do not mind a lot of skinship.  I am used to friends hanging all over me.  Plus, sometimes I just want to curl up someone as well.  

  STRENGTHS:  

Observant

Good communication skills & honest

Responsible & reliable

Full Size Human Heater.  I am ridiculously warm and always putting off heat.  Friends and coworkers alike use me as a portable heater.

Surprisingly good at being sly and collecting information if needed, like getting a shoe or ring size without tipping the person off it’s for a gift.  If they manage to call it, I always fess up and playfully make a fuss they ruined the surprise.

  WEAKNESSES:  

Terrible at lying, so I tend to simply keep my mouth shut instead

Willfully oblivious to flirting and absolute flustered mess once I am forced to recognize said flirting

Vast open waters terrify me

Tendency to keep my troubles to myself and try to solve problems on my own (don’t want to be a burden)

Can become despondent if I feel useless at times

  HOBBIES:

ART:  I’ve dabbled in several different medias, but my favorite is just a pencil or pen and any paper I can get my hands on.  I love drawing figures in dynamic poses.  Second favorite is sculptures built from wire.

COSTUMES:  I love Halloween, since it is the perfect excuse to make and wear my homemade costumes.  It also lets me challenge myself by making more complicated pieces like hooves, horns, and even chain mail.

BAKING/COOKING/CANDY MAKING:  I’m the cook in the house and I love it.  Seeing people enjoy my food is my favorite part.  Just don’t ask me for a recipe, I literally don’t have any and I won’t remember what I did.  

ORGANIZING/CLEANING:  I love puzzle games like Tetris and Catherine, and I love a challenge.  Combine the two by having me organize and rearrange a space to make it work and I am in heaven.

STORYTELLING:  When a story needs to be told, I am the one asked to tell it. Specifically I have such an entertaining way of telling it according to others.  Animated and colorful language, plus a few pit stops along the way with some side stories.  

  PET PEEVES:

CONTRARY:  Do not tell me to do something while I am doing it.  That will kill any motivation I had to do it.

BACKHANDED COMPLIMENTS:  It is possible to compliment someone without insulting them or others at the same time.  It just makes the compliment feel empty and negative.  And I tend to just hum and not reward that behaviour.  

TOO MUCH ATTENTION:  I don’t mind attention… from people I trust and are comfortable with.  Feel free to cuddle and coddle away.  But vast amounts of attention from those I feel are strangers or acquaintances will unnerve me (I have literally left functions immediately  where I walked in and was bombarded with shouts and attention aimed at me-sensory overload I guess).

  ODD HABITS:

NESTING:  No, I don’t think I have enough blankets and pillows.  Yes, the giant stuffed animal is needed and his name is Snuffie.  

CRUSH ME:  I’m serious, some days I need one of my friends or my bf to just lay all their dead weight on top of me.  It’s just oddly therapeutic.

NO, I’M NOT PREGNANT:  Just cause I ate that jar of olives in one sitting or suddenly was craving jalapeno juice and crushed ramen noodles.  There are never enough pickles and yes, I am determined to try every kind–I may have a vinegar addiction.

IRONY:  I bake some of the tastiest, sweetest desserts and make pralines and caramels, YET I myself do not favor sweet things. 

HANDS:  One thing I tended to do with nearly every boyfriend and guy friend I had was play with their hands and put their hands on my face/head.  I lived for being pet and having people play with my hair.    

NONVERBAL MOMENTS:  Sometimes words are just too much, so I instead make sounds.  Can be anywhere from a growl to a cat like noise, or the reliable “Nyeh.”

NO NOs:

I think I listed a few as I went through everything else, but ignoring boundaries is the main one.  If I tell you I’m not comfortable with something, do not make me repeat myself.  And usually that something is given a pass the first few times it is done before I say something and explain why I’m not comfortable with it.   

Example:  I have thick, curly hair, a product of my mixed heritage.  Well, sometimes I like to straighten it and I did just that one day.  Well, a coworker decided to make a backhanded compliment, stating I should stick to what works: straight hair over my natural hair.  I had gotten on him about it, but I decided to vent to a friend about what happened as well.  She proceeded to constantly repeat those hurtful words and while I knew she meant it playfully during those times, I had to stop her and sit her down, explain I don’t find it funny cause the words are linked to a hurtful, possibly racist memory that I didn’t want brought up again and again.   Thankfully she understood and stopped.  So, I don’t snap immediately and I understand sometimes a sit down needs to be done.

Ok first of all I gotta say that I absolutely loved reading your matchup!!! It’s so well organized, detailed, and the descriptions are pretty creative!!! Do you do any writing yourself, because you should!!! alright, geek out moment over.

i’ve got three guys you’re perfect for, but let’s go for the obvious one. HONEY!! 

You’ve checked off everything on honey’s list: caring, organized, laid back, and good for cuddling. Now here’s what he has to offer to the table: he will cuddle you back. This guy is the ultimate cuddle slut. You’ll never feel unloved with him. Honey is also a very thoughtful and appreciative guy. He likes caring for his partners. You may be the mom friend, but he’ll do his best to return that love as well.

Honey is a little awkward, but he’s also sensitive and empathetic to how others feel. If he puts his foot in his mouth, just tell him and he’ll never bring it up again. Plus this guy is just so honest and genuine that backhanded compliments aren't really a thing with him. 

Also you like costumes!!! He’s always wanted to try cosplay or theatre. You just might be the person to give him the courage to finally stick to one. 

dating honey includes:

cuddles upon heaps of soft things. He has his own collections of ridiculously soft blankets and pillows that he’ll happily add to your collection. Honey is also a master at pillow forts. 

honey is a good listener. He’ll be happy to just sit back and enjoy the stories you tell. There is start though, who is also the storyteller of the underswap home. Any funny story you give about your time together will be rewarded by star with a funny story from his and honey’s childhood, much to honey’s embarrassment

if you don't really like sweet things but love baking them, then honey and star will happily finish them for you. People are usually surprised about how just how much skeleton monsters can pack away. 

he’s a picky eater and will give you the wtf face when you fufil your weird cravings though lol 

Oh! Also if you’re wondering, the other two would’ve been either oak or coffee