#I have been able to basically be nonverbal all day and it’s been wonderful.

[natugood]

I’ve been tired and laying in bed all day and I finally have the energy and desire to get up and go for a walk by roommate has people visiting and I don’t have the social energy to talk to people (especially meet a new person) right now so I am just trapped in my room

[onighiri-grr]

You might remember me probably not but uhmmmmmm hahah- could you do a sundrop with a crybaby nonverbal reader when I go into little space I’m just so sensitive and quiet I swear 😔 like just fluff FLUFF <333 if you don’t wanna or don’t have time you don’t have to! Have a wonderful rest of your day/night

Ohhh dearest Don’t worry🥰 thanks for the request

Sorry if I write something wrong ;-; , have a beautiful night/day dearest💕

💕✨——————✨💕

Sundrop

The moment he sees you regress he would be super attentive, like… imagine:

he is normally super exited but I honestly think that he would firstly observe you

He would sense some type of change in you and be curious but even worried if it’s something bad

JUST FOR A SECOND THO cause the moment he understands what’s going on he’s all over you

He WILL read your body language to understand on how to approach you so he doesn’t trigger you in ANY way

He will absolutely caress your cheeks while saying things like

“Hey sunshine! This is a safe space for everyone and so for you too-“

The moment he sees that you’re nonverbal he will just take your hands and ask you simple thing so you can just shake your head, simple yes or no questions

He will learn about your trigger while been able to play with you

If he sees your pretty eyes watering he will wipe your tears and try to calm you down

If you get overstimulated he will absolutely take your hand and guide you in a more quiet area, just talking to you, trying to distract you

If someone is being rude to you… well let’s just say that they’re banned from the day care for the rest of their life ;)

If you have something you want to communicate just pull his sleeve

AH YES another thing, he will give you something like… a TONE of plushies

(This one of my favourite hcs tbh, he likes small and soft thing, so yeah, plushies ;-; )

He just want to make you feel comfortable, safe, loved all of this in a really cozy way

Moondrop

Imma just gonna write something for him really quickly

So… he will be super attentive too

When it’s nap time you can basically do whatever you want to him

Pull him everywhere until you’re really ready to go to sleep

Will makes you fall asleep while caressing your hair

Will offer hot milk and a lullaby

Guard dog, something or someone’s bothering you? Pfff, babe they’re DONE

[katyspersonal]

Small crisis regarding my former mariadeline impression

This post is basically just:

But I kinda need to put my thoughts here

I've been thinking recently back on my days when I still saw Gehrman as a ‘creep’, and it was a point in Maria’s story that she hated herself for feeling attracted to Adeline who WAS below in a status. In that version, she was deeply concerned of taking advantage of her authority - because she subconsciously projected, and sort of saw Gehrman in herself. Been long ago, but after I revisited the lore bit that triggered it, I was hit back with just how many layers have to be undone to get to mariadeline ship being fulfilling and happy. We have the fact that Adeline still addresses Maria as superior ('lady' in localisation, '-sama' in original, sama is used to politely, formally address ones of higher rank). The subordination was probably never broken in canon!

Also, Maria didn't want Adeline to become a Blood Saint but Adeline wasn't convinced, most likely out of her pursuit to be someone meaningful - "grooming" of Blood Saints isn't canon, in Japanese original it says that they merely were prepared physically, to produce unique blood within their body, so that certainly allows there to be willing, conscious ones. I feel like Maria would have a huge weight of guilt for failing to convince her that she didn't need to put herself through this.

But things also get soooo much worse around Research Hall, because Maria is associated with the reason why these experiments are a thing to BEGIN with! Yes, evolution is nice and all, but patients are writhing in pain and beg for it to end. That meant Adeline too - not only she mutated horribly and Maria was no longer able to see her beautiful face, but also Adeline is restrained with more belts than any of the other patients, and then additionally restrained to the chair. She must have had it extremely hard if they had to put extra effort in holding her still... My guess is that Adeline was going too rabid when devoid of brain fluid for too long. And Maria had to watch her go through this, mutating physically and forgetting her worth psychologically. But who knows, what if none of that had happened if Maria didn't "help" with Fishing Hamlet? Someone who took her own life over a collective crime strikes me as someone more prone to blame herself, ALL herself, rather than sharing guilt. She did not come after throats of Willem and Gehrman for initiating Fishing Hamlet massacre, despite the fact that the leaders are probably more guilty than the followers, you know...?

I wonder if the real reason Maria went nonverbal with Adeline (Adeline being accustomed to her walking in without a word, Maria giving her the balcony key without explanation since Adeline still thinks it is "a charm" when we meet her) was not shyness but anxiety. Maybe she felt like she didn't even dare to touch her, maybe she was not able to start talking to her without crying - and she needed to hold it back. She wanted to stay strong and worthy of Adeline’s respect, even if she probably didn’t deserve it.... But Adeline deserved someone to admire, rather than the gods that only make people feel small.

I mean, the status imbalance itself is already a very fat hint that they never got official and whatever was there from one or both of them probably lingered in the status of unresolved romantic tension until the end. The fact that Adeline still sees Maria as her superior even as a patient effectively hints that it was still the case back then - so as a Blood Saint, and before that. Basically, the only time in canon they COULD have been in true relationship is during Research Hall events, but I think the setting full of pain, misery, fear, insanity, body horror and death was uhhh... not very favourable for happy fluffy love to bloom. Adeline was going way too caught up into Eldrich truth to care about something as human - an requiring her humanity - as normal relationship, and Maria, the one who would care enough to pull her back, failed to do so at least two times by now.

_______

So yeah, all in all I briefly addressed that mariadeline probably never came to fruition in canon, then I forgot all about it and got sold on happy portrayal of the ship within fandom, but now I am thinking back on it and considering even more nuances. I’ve just grown so used to take this ship as a given that it does feel like a slight crisis to realise that they probably never dated? There is a possibility though; Nightmare features a hunter version of Maria, that she forsaken in “reality”, ie Nightmare dials back into troubled and painful past. So maybe it dialed Adeline back TOO - to her more desperate, tormented state as a patient, when she still wasn’t Maria’s girlfriend too; when in “reality” she DID, in fact, feel better about herself and the women got to be happy witch each other for just brief time... Again, past Adeline already being a mutant. Like, odds are, all stuff depicting mariadeline happy and established when Adeline was a Blood Saint, or before so, or a patient that still looked human is an AU? Because it is not filling blank spaces, but contradicting canon? It is just that... I was not THINKING about it this way much? That so many things we just assume and take without questioning in fiction actually are rather different in reality?

I am probably becoming very old like I said before, but it is even strange how we as fans can look at two characters caring about each other and instantly jump into fluffiest, most shippy interpretation, forgetting the nuances. Like... dear god, this ship has so many underwater rocks (no pun intended).

[saynotoshityouhate]

For Science Ch. 5

Ch. 1 // Ch. 2 // Ch. 3 // Ch. 4

Words: 1781

Tags: angst, love, neediness, bathtub sex, he’s too big but (spoiler) we make it work.

It had been three days. Three long, agonizing days since Bruce slammed the front door and ran away. Yesterday he sent a text, asking if he could come home. Seeing his name light up your screen made your heart jump, so happy to know he was safe and coming back to you. You responded with an enthusiastic yes.

He’d never left like this before - you’d never had a fight or had a moment where his emotions took over so badly. Of course you’d welcome him back, you’d never worried he would hurt you. Not anymore - not since he’d found this new happy medium between his two personas. Bruce clearly wasn’t as confident.

It was hard having him gone for those first few days of your new job at the university, and you’d wished he’d been there to laugh at some of the silly mistakes you had made. His bellowing chuckles were some of your favorite noises in the world.

Pulling up the driveway after classes were through, you saw Bruce’s car parked back in its normal place. Your stomach flipped, unsure what to expect, although you were mostly excited to see him.

You quietly opened the back door, walking into the kitchen. Taking off your heels, you heard soft, muffled classical music and smelled lavender and citrus. You smiled, heading straight to the master bath. The door was cracked open slightly, and you could see the warm glow of candles dancing across the shiny tile walls.

You knocked quietly on the door and pushed it open gently, just enough to stick your head inside. “Bruce?”

Bruce’s head was resting against the cool tile behind him, his eyes closed and his breathing regular. He must have just fallen asleep, his large frame filling most of the oversized jacuzzi tub. “Bruce?” You whispered again, awakening him from his dream. His warm eyes met yours, taking a moment to focus and register that you were really there. “Y/N, I -“ Bruce rested his hands on the side of the tub, beginning to push himself up to greet you. “No, no - stay there, you look so peaceful.” You nervously played with the hem of your untucked blouse.

“May I?” You lifted your hands to the top buttons of your blouse, pausing for Bruce’s approval. His adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he nodded, adjusting his dark glasses up the bridge of his nose. You proceeded in unbuttoning your crisp white shirt, setting it off to the side. Your back was turned to the submerged Bruce, but you knew the slight shimmy of your hips as you stepped out of your skirt and panties would excite him.

You backed yourself over to the edge of the tub, presenting your back to Bruce. He loved unclasping your bra for you. He took pride in being able to do it with just a flick of his finger, and seeing the tension leave your back and shoulders filled him with warmth. You moved the straps down your shoulders and dropped it to the floor, reveling in the ease of domestic life with Bruce - even in this uncomfortable silence.

Lowering yourself into the bubbles across from him, you sighed. The last few days had been hard on you, you were worried about Bruce, had started your new job, and had been brainstorming on ways to reverse your boyfriend’s physical predicament. You stretched your legs out in front of you, resting them against Bruce’s thighs. He took one foot in his large hand, rubbing the arch with gentle pressure. Your eyes fluttered closed at the wonderful release.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry for how I reacted.” Bruce’s eyes were cast downwards in shame. “I was so upset with myself, I didn’t want to risk anything happening…” You interrupted him. “No, I overreacted. I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I’m just happy you’re back.” You poked him with your other foot, asking him to do the same magic there as well.

“Where did you go?” You asked timidly, not sure you really wanted to know the answer. “I just went to the tower - Tony left my room as-is…just in case.” You made a noise of acknowledgement, your fingers idly playing with the bubbles that adorned your chest.

“I never stopped thinking about you.” Bruce extended a hand, inviting you to come closer. You accepted, allowing him to pull you onto his lap. You wrapped your arms around his neck. “I was scared, Bruce.” He held your face in his hand, rubbing your cheek with his thumb. “I’m sorry. It’ll never happen again.”

You kissed him fiercely, as if you wanted him to stop talking before he gave any excuses or reasons to leave again. You couldn’t help the whimpers leaving your chest, three days was a long time for you two to be apart.

Bruce’s cock throbbed against you, eliciting a groan from the large man. “I missed you so much,” he mumbled, nipping and sucking at your neck and collar bone. Moving to straddle his waist, Bruce’s hands found your hips, helping hold you steady.

“I wanna try - I think I can do it - I wanna try.” You ground your hips against his hardening length, your breaths already ragged and uneven. You knew it would hurt, but you wanted to do this for him. You were certainly wet enough. “No, I don’t wanna hurt you, don’t-“

You had your mind made up. Your much smaller hand took Bruce’s from his waist, bringing it to your core. “Stretch me out, please. I need you.” He could never resist you. Slowly inserting one large digit, knuckle by knuckle, his eyes were trained on you, closely monitoring for any inkling of pain or discomfort. You were feeling nothing of the sort. Your head was thrown back, the stretch sending delicious shockwaves through your limbs.

“One more, please” you breathed. “Y/N, I-“ You shot him a look, like daggers from your irises. “One. More. Please.” Bruce sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. He adjusted his fingers, slowly adding a second, drawing a moan from deep inside you. “I think - I think I’m ready. Please - give it to me? Let me make you feel good. Please?”

“Baby, I’m not sure about this. Let’s just start here, you’re taking me so well, maybe next time, we gotta take it slow.” You whined, loudly, and bucked your hips down onto his two, thick fingers. The water of the tub splashed over the edge. “Don’t wan’ take it slow, Bruce. Wan’ you - your cock. Puhleeeaase, Bruce.”

“The minute anything starts to hurt, you have to tell me, okay? Promise?” You nodded your head vigorously before pulling him closer and kissing him in gratitude. Bruce slowly removed his digits, leaving you empty and clenching around nothing but the bath water.

Bruce’s eyes were dark with lust, but still maintained the warmth of his concern for you. He held your gaze as he aligned himself with your opening. Every millimeter seemed to take an hour, your breath hitching in your throat as you stretched further to accommodate him. Bruce held your hips tightly, trying to maintain control and composure as you took him so well. It had been years since he felt the velvety warmth of a woman around him.

Your fingers dug into his shoulders as he continued to move slowly and methodically. You focused on your breathing, in through your nose, out through your mouth - pushing out whines and whimpers along the way. You attempted to hide your face in the crook of his neck, but Bruce pushed you back, wanting to keep an eye on you. “You’re doing so well, my girl, look at you.”

Looking down, you expected to see that he had completely bottomed out inside you, but there was plenty more left to go. His hand held the base, not allowing you to go any further, if that was even possible. You smiled up at him, so proud of yourself, feeling so full.

Bruce’s heart swelled - and he could finally relax knowing you were okay…better than okay really. You began to rock your hips, exploring your body’s limits, feeling the push and pull of Bruce against your walls. It was worth the effort.

You established a comfortable rhythm, riding him slowly, but forcefully. The waves of now lukewarm water splashed around you, adding to the symphony of delicious noises you both were making - the feelings sending you both into nonverbal bliss. Bruce began to tense, and you weren’t far behind. The only one with a free hand, you reached down to access your clit, quickly sending shockwaves of pleasure ripping through you. You clenched down on Bruce’s girth as you climaxed, sending him over the edge with you. His guttural growl sent vibrations through your skin as he filled you up for the very first time. You collapsed into him, every muscle giving out from the pain and exertion.

Bruce held your weakened body in his arms, both of you exhausted beyond belief. The tub had turned cold and you began to shiver. Concerned, he held you tightly with one arm while he used the other to push himself out of the bath. You clung tightly to his neck as he walked you to the bedroom. Placing your down gently, he dried you off with a towel and handed you your robe to snuggle up into before returning to clean up the bathroom. Once you were dressed, you crawled back to the pillows aligned neatly on your bed and waited for Bruce to return.

Wrapped up in your fluffy robe, you nuzzled into Bruce’s chest. “Can I ask you a question?” Your fingers idly traced his chest, droplets of water still gripping the coarse hairs on his sternum. Bruce grunted in the affirmative, his eyelids were heavy the minute his head hit the pillow. “If you could, you know, switch back. Would you?”

Bruce hummed. “I mean, I’ve thought about it. Done some basic calculations, consulted with colleagues…but that was all before.”

“Before what?” You whispered, tipping your head to look up at him, his eyes still closed gently.

“Before you. Before our life together. Before I saw the way your eyes light up when I enter a room. You read about that sort of thing in books, right? But I never knew it was real. And me? Of all people? In this state?” You sat up, captivated by his words, tears welling up and blurring your vision. His eyes met yours, one hand tracing your spine, while the other held yours.

“So no. I’m not interested in changing back. I am Bruce Banner, I am the Hulk, and I love you.”

[blessednereid]

August

WC: <4100

Mentions: Sexual innuendos, cursing, slut-shaming, Affairs/Adultery, Lying, Deceit

A/N: It’s an AU, basically where James and Lily don’t end up together, and the War ends before they graduate. Snape and Peter don’t become death eaters IG but that doesn’t really matter later on. Unedited, but it’s the last day of August so I gotta get it in NOW.

Pairings: James Potter x Reader, James Potter x Lily Evans, (future) Lily Evans x Reader

~~~

Y/N

*

Salt air

*

You and your boyfriend of two months are sitting on the shoreline of the shared beach near your houses. You’ve lived in the same neighbourhood for as long as you can remember, but never really noticed each other until your formative years. And the chemistry was undeniable, which is what led you to that precise moment.

“Hey, James… What do you think is going to happen when we go away for school?” you ask meekly.

Being a Beauxbaton student is as luxurious as it sounds. You never have to put up with brutish and grotesque boys in pissing contests, and while there may be catty classmates, there’s no fighting over boys. No heartbreak. No major drama.

That being said, that didn’t mean that none of you had boyfriends. You all had your fair share of suitors from Durmstrang or Hogwarts or some other school in the country. And yours was James Potter.

He is the epitome of a perfect boyfriend. He remembers small dates, like the exact day your cat died, and knows exactly what you need.

You don’t think you’ve loved anyone as much as you’ve loved him.

And that’s precisely why you’re so afraid to lose him.

You knew that the long distance between you would be difficult. What started as a summer fling quickly became something more, and James changed from a friend who could make you laugh your guts out to the boy that makes your heart sing.

He has his arms wrapped around you like a comforting blanket, and you know exactly what he’s thinking. The distance isn’t going to change my love for you.

But he doesn’t realize that it’ll change the amount he can express. And that’s going to be frustrating. You’ve only been together for a little while. So how would this even work?

“We just have to trust each other, darling. I love you, and you love me. That’s all that matters.”

“But James-”

“No buts,” he states stoically. “Nothing is going to change this. You just need to trust me, trust that this is going to work.”

James

*

And the rust on your door

*

He had told you exactly what he meant. That he loved you, and that you could trust him. He knew that he loved you, and that love had taken root in the deepest part of his heart. So when he opened the door to Sirius, Remus, and Peter’s room, since he would not be staying here this year, he not only felt excitement for the new year but sheer happiness at the fact that he had found someone who loved him as unconditionally as he loved her. He did feel some remorse that he wouldn’t be staying with his gaggle of mates though.

“Mate, what’s that grin on your face for? Haven’t gotten in any trouble without us, have you?”

Apparently, James’ inner monologue reflected on his face because all his friends were made aware of the grin on his face.

“No, I just…”

He’d managed to keep the relationship a secret from Sirius that summer because you didn’t want the already confusing relationship to be found out by the Wizarding World. For reporters to make it more convoluted and twisted than it actually was.

“I’m just glad to be back,” he says, deciding he needs to discuss with you if he could tell his friends about your relationship just yet.

*

I never needed anything more

*

When he saw Lily in classes the next day, a pang swam through his chest. He didn’t see her yesterday on the train. He wasn’t focusing on that. But now he was. He noticed that her red hair had been cut short to her shoulders and that she appeared much more confident. Her school blouse had the first two buttons popped, showing just the slightest bit of rosy cleavage.

No.

He had promised you that you could trust him, and you could. He knew you could. He was going to be the man that you deserved. Lily was in the past. Lily was a speed bump on his path to finding true love with you.

But why did the way he felt about Lily now feel as strongly as it did before?

And it didn’t help any when she waltzed up to his desk and straightened her arms right in front of his face, pushing out her chest, and making his lust and sexual drive soar. He was sure it was evident. That he’d broken out in a sweat, but he attempted to play it off as cool as an Autumn day.

“Hello James,” she greeted. “How was your summer?”

He gulped. In front of his eyes was a woman, the woman that he had wanted so desperately. He didn’t know her intentions, but he knew his thoughts. And if you could see his thoughts, could hear them… he knew you wouldn’t be pleased. He knew you’d realize that you’d been right in not trusting him. “Summer was fine, Lily-flower. And you? Hang around with Snivelly, any?”

“No, we haven’t talked since the end of last year. But I’m thinking that this is more room for opportunity, to make new friends, see the light, you know?” she grinned and it lit up his heart.

“So, I was talking to Remus, and he told me that I should give you a chance to be one of those new friends,” but the way she said friends implied something more. “And at first, I objected, and then I realized, I never really gave you much light in my eyes. Do you think you could change that, Jamesie?”

And fuck, if that didn’t make his heart race a little.

Lily

*

Whispers of "Are you sure?"

*

Lily and James were kissing passionately and furiously as they stumbled into her bedroom. Since becoming head girl, she had gotten her own dorm room. James had also gotten one, but Lily didn’t want to see how messy that room was.

She moved her hands from in between their two bodies and picked up her wand to cast several different nonverbal charms.

When she was done, she pushed James down onto the bed and began tearing off her clothes. And then his. When she was done and they were lying beside each other he muttered a final “are you sure?” to her, and she nodded. He kissed her with ferocious passion until the kiss became something more.

This happened again, again, again.

*

"Never have I ever before"

*

When James left Lily’s room for the fourth time that month, she pressed two fingers to her lips in reaction to his goodbye kiss.

“I’ve never felt this way about James. About anyone,” she thought.

He made her feel alive, he made her grin, he made her giggle, and he made her heart flutter when he was around her. Of course, she knew this when she approached him. She just didn’t think it would escalate to this level so soon.

She wants to shout to the world the way she feels about him, the way he makes her feel. How he can take her breath away and make her feel like the most important and most special girl on the planet.

Like she was made just and entirely for him, and that the same applied for him to her.

She couldn’t stop her wild dreams, the ones of vivid love and passion, the ones where he would kiss her, take her hand, and profess his love in grand displays. Where he’d fight for her and never leave her.

Fantasy and delusion never left her mind when it came to him.

*

Your back beneath the sun

*

He and she both lie underneath the sun, soaking up its rays, sharing its warmth, staring at the clouds trying to make out certain shapes.

It was a sunny December day, which was rare, so they were getting as much out of it as they could.

“James, we should study,” she lightly approached the devastating topic. “It’s not like I really want to, but what kind of example are we setting as head boy and girl?”

“Well, If we go back up to our dorms, nobody will know if we’re studying or doing something else,” he said with a wriggle of eyebrows.

“No, James!” she laughs, and he joins her. His pearly teeth both ensnaring her mind and rendering her unable to focus on anything but him.

“When’s the next Hogsmeade trip?” he asked casually while he laid back down with his head facing the sky.

“Most likely before the holidays.”

She saw his face contort when she mentioned the Christmas break.

“James, what’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing, I’m just thinking about… the war.” His face was pale, and his face sour.

“I’m thinking of joining the order after I graduate, but it’s still scary, you know. I’m worried about my mum and dad.”

“Your parents are going to be fine, James,” she assured him, but she knew he would be fully relieved until the war was over and all death eaters were locked up.

*

Wishin' I could write my name on it

*

She was sitting with Remus in the library when he brought up James. Let the record show that he brought up James, not her.

“So, how is everything going with James?”

She sighed lightly. “It’s magic, Remus. Pun intended.”

He chuckled. “I’m glad you feel that way, Lily. Really, he’s a good guy once you get past that facade he puts on. I knew you’d like him.”

“Yes,” she says faintly. Doubts flood her head about his own feelings.

“What’s wrong, Lily?”

Her eyes turn down to her paper before reaching up again to meet his. “It’s silly, but… sometimes I wonder if he truly feels the same. I mean, most people don’t harbour feelings for one person for this long. What if all along it was just lust, and he’ll cast me away now that he’s satisfied that urge.”

“Lily, I promise you, James has had eyes for no one but you for many years. I highly doubt that it was lust, James isn’t like that.”

“You know,” she smiled. “You’re right. I just wish this didn’t have to be kept so hush-hush. The amount of girls I see fawning over him is grotesque.”

“So then ask him,” he pushed.

She took that as a challenge. “Alright. I will!”

*

The next time Lily saw James, they immediately rolled into bed and did what lovers do. But after that is when she posed the question.

“James, would we- will we ever be able to make this public?” she asked in a stern voice.

She saw thoughts swimming in his head for a moment.

“Lily,” he rolled onto his side. “We- I… This needs to be a secret for now. I mean, we are waist-deep into this war, and with my plans to go into the order, I can’t risk anyone coming after you.”

His logic made sense to her, and the wizarding world would get too caught up with the son of a prestigious wizard family being with a muggle-born in the middle of all of this.

He was right, she just had to swallow her jealousy for now.

*

Will you call when you’re back at school

*

The next week, there was a Hogsmeade trip, and despite them staying near the Marauders, really, it was a date for James and Lily. Or at least that’s what it felt like. An unofficial date.

They bought each other gifts to open over the holidays, kissed discreetly under mistletoes, and held hands while walking through the village.

When they went to get butterbeer for the rest of the group, there was a long but comfortable silence for a while.

“So what are you doing for the holidays?”

“Just going back home, maybe making some treats with my mum,” he said casually. “What about you?”

“Same as you, I guess. I’ll miss you, though.”

“I’ll miss you too.”

She tapped her foot absentmindedly as they waited. “What if I came with you?”

“What?” Panic flooded his face. “No, you couldn’t come with me, I’m afraid. My house is an Order safe place. If a death eater found it, you could be in danger.”

“You’re in danger just being there.”

“And you’re in danger by just breathing, Lily! That would be a double danger. I’m not risking that.”

She cringed at her sudden need to be close to him. “Right, sorry. It was a silly idea. A mindless thought.”

His face softened when he saw her embarrassment. “I’d love to bring you home, Lily, but it’s not safe.” But by now she could tell that he was lying, there was something more.

*

I remember thinkin' I had you

*

On the train back from London going to Hogwarts, Lily sat with Marlene and Dorcas, she hadn't seen them quite as much as she would’ve wanted since the school year started, and now was the perfect opportunity.

Lily felt remorse and guilt for not telling her friends about such a crucial part of her life, her relationship with James Potter, and truly she wanted to, but what if they judged her? And Marlene has had a reputation for having a loudmouth. What if she said something and word got out?

They conversed in idle gossip before an interesting topic was brought up. One that left Lily infuriated, and ready to murder a smug bastard.

“Have you heard about Potter and that Beauxbaton girl?”

Her eyes raised in curiosity and scorn. “What Beauxbaton girl?”

Dorcas revealed as much as she knew about you to Lily, your name, family, status in the Wizarding World. By the time she was done, Lily was struck with disbelief.

“And you’re sure they were kissing?” she said in response to Marlene’s information about the article in the Daily Prophet with a picture of them kissing.

“Yes!” she exclaimed.

“I have the article right here,” Dorcas mentioned.

“Way to bury the lead.”

“Oh shush,” she said and handed Lily the newspaper out of her bag.

She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. The man she had been with for the past four months was kissing another woman. With Tongue.

“Well, that’s fantastic for him,” she said sourly. “He must feel so proud to have gotten a pretty girlfriend after pining after me for so long. I wonder how long it’ll be before he tries pining after me again,”

“Who knows, maybe it is serious,” Dorcas proposed.

Lily growled. “I don’t think it’s that serious if he’s sleeping with another woman.”

Marlene’s eyes widened. “You don’t mean-”

“Excuse me, I’ll be right back,” she said before exiting the cabin of the train and heading to find James Potter.

“So,” she said when she reached his compartment. “How long have you been seeing her?”

James looked shocked to see her. “Lily, I can explain.”

“Can you? Please explain then. Is this why I couldn’t come with you? Why you had to keep us a secret James? For Godric’s sake, how long have you been seeing her?”

He gulped. “Since the summer.” Even Sirius looked shocked.

“I lived in your house, and you didn’t tell me, mate?”

“Not the time,” Peter chastised.

“Are you serious James? You spouted all of that you love me bullshit when you were with someone else?” Her eyes radiated anger. It was like staring into the mouth of an actively-fire-breathing dragon. “Does she know about me?”

“No, she doesn’t,” he admitted.

Lily said one more sentence before stalking away. “Well, you better tell her, or I will.”

*

But I can see us lost in the memory

*

Lily had no intention of telling you anything. She didn’t even know you. How would she send an owl to a total stranger and tell them that their boyfriend has been cheating on them with herself?

Lily never set out to be a homewrecker. But she didn’t even know she was wrecking a home, to begin with.

This was James’ fault, and he was going to own up to it.

Besides, It deserved to come from him. Lily knew how she felt about being told that she was the other woman from some outside source, and she didn’t want to do that to anyone at all.

But not even the sting of betrayal could mask the ever-flowing sadness that emanated from Lily. She truly believed he was in love. And maybe he was. Just not with her. And that was okay, but she didn’t deserve what she was put through.

Still, that doesn’t stop the fact that she, herself, was in love with him, and how is she supposed to ever get over that betrayal.

*

August slipped away into a moment in time- 'Cause it was never mine

*

Within the next few months, Lily had fallen into a rut. Her grades began slipping, her mood and cheeriness faltered. Even though the Wizarding World War had recently been won, with death-eaters being locked away, that didn’t change her mood, because she wasn’t in the mood to celebrate, to begin with. Her friends noticed her down-in-the-dumps aura, and despite knowing the cause, and how it wasn’t their fault, they couldn’t help but want to help her, to fix her.

But no one could repair the damage that James Potter caused to Lily but Lily herself. And that started with making amends.

“I have to send a follow-up letter to that girl. So I’ll ask you. Have you told her yet?” She cornered James in the library because, despite Head Boy and Head Girl duties, they didn’t see each other much. After all, he was avoiding her as much as she was avoiding him.

He gulped, “I haven’t. Lily, I can’t tell her. It would kill her, she was so worried about the distance and when she saw me at Christmas break, she was so happy. I don’t want to ruin that.”

“You should’ve thought about that before you started an affair with me, James. An affair I didn’t agree to. I didn’t want to be anybody's mistress. And she deserves to know, and I am going to send her a letter. Today! So if you don’t tell her, she will find out from me. I’ve given you months.”

“Lily, don’t do this. Please. I can’t tell her over an owl. It has to be in person.”

She faltered. He was right. His heart may have been in the wrong place, but his head is in the right one. Doing that, telling you over an owl could have devastating consequences. It was a discussion that had to be had in person.

“Easter Break. That is your chance, James Potter. After that, If you don’t I will.”

She turned on her heel and was about to leave the library when he grabbed her arm and pulled her back.

“Lily, you have to understand, I never meant to hurt you,” he said. “I have fancied you for so long, and when you finally reciprocated this year, I didn’t want to pass up that chance. I was wrong. You are so amazing, and I shouldn’t have done what I did, but please believe this. You deserve so much, and I couldn’t and could never give that to you, but when I did this, I never meant to hurt anyone. I didn’t think it would go this far.”

She scoffed. “Well, it did, James. You hurt me. You betrayed me, and you betrayed her. Neither of us deserved that, no matter what.”

*

And I can see us twisted in bedsheets

*

Guilt twisted in her stomach every time she thought of you. Jealousy was surely a stage at first, everything about you had her enchanted, your hair, your eyes, your glowing skin. She was enthralled, and she could see why James was too.

And then she remembered his nights in her dorm, on her bed. Tossing and turning with her, his lips on her mouth, and she didn’t feel envy. She felt regret and culpability. If she had pressed James harder about whether his feelings really were the same as before, if he’d really wanted to do this, maybe he wouldn’t have done it.

And then she wouldn’t be in this position, and you wouldn’t be about to come crash-landing on impact with this heavy, and taboo truth.

But this wasn’t about her, Lily realized. This was about you. And how you were going to feel once James told you what happened when the train meets the station, and that is all Lily can think of as she sits on her bed, staring out of her window. When her owl knocks on the window to deliver her mail, the headline of the Daily Prophet is what catches her eye. “The Prodigal son in an affair with a Muggleborn witch!” It goes on and on about how a secret inside source heard an argument between the two of them in the Hogwarts library.

There is no doubt that you have seen this, and James didn’t get to tell you. Lily didn’t get to apologize to you. This just got a whole lot worse, and Lily didn’t know how she was going to deal with the sudden turn of events.

James is the villain here, she reminded herself. James is in the wrong, but she knew that she was still an unwitting accomplice. And her gut wrenched as she pondered on that very true fact.

*

August slipped away like a bottle of wine

*

Lily had to get away from the wizarding world, so although she didn’t plan on going home for the Easter holiday, she had to now.

She was being shamed for her insidious relationship with James, by certain people, mostly Snape and his friends, that bastard. Most everyone was supportive, they realized she had no idea about your relationship, but she was still worried about what you’d say to James, but more about what’d you’d say about her.

Had James told you that she didn’t know? That he lied to both of you. Would you be mad at her either way?

Shame pulsed through her body, and she couldn’t imagine what her mother would say when she told her if she ever did.

Though when she got home, her mother instantly noticed that something was wrong.

Knowing she couldn’t take her mothers knowing stares and hard gaze, she instantly confessed to everything that happened over the semester. Her mother didn’t judge her for having premarital sex as Lily thought she would, but rather comforted her daughter and reassured her. “If James is a half-decent person, he will tell her that you did nothing wrong, and she won’t be mad at you, Lily dear.”

Her mother's reassurance helped, but her rose bush of worry wouldn’t be clear of its thorns until she spoke with you.

*

'Cause you were never mine

*

When the break was over, and Lily was about to board the train station to the red engine that is the Hogwarts Express, someone was waiting for her at the door to the train.

“My train doesn’t arrive until later,” you say plainly. “I wanted to get here earlier though, to speak with you.”

Lily feels like she’s breaking out in hives under your eyes, and it’s not a good feeling.

“James told me about how you didn’t know about me, how you wanted him to tell me sooner, didn’t want me to find out from tabloids like you did.” You smiled at her.

“It really hurt me when I found out. I didn’t want you to feel that way, but you still deserved to know. I’m just sorry you found out like that anyway.”

“James already boarded the train, but I wanted to let you know we’re no longer together if you still wanted to be with him,” you said meekly.

Lily’s eyes grew to the size of saucers. “Godric, no! He’s a git.”

You laughed.

“I know we may not be able to be friends, but maybe it’ll be better if we work through all of this together, all three of us,” Lily proposed.

“Yes, individually, dually, all together, doesn’t matter, it needs to be resolved.”

Lily sighed a breath of relief. “Somehow, I feel lighter.”

“Me too.”

As Lily was about to board the train, you called out to her. “Lily!”

She whipped her head to face you. “We can be friends if you’d like, you know.”

That made Lily smile, and honestly, it made her heart bloom with a vague, but familiar feeling.

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Waking Comfort (Bela Dimitrescu/Reader)

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for language, brief violence (in a flashback), implied/referenced trauma (unspecified) Warnings: N/A Summary: Unable to sleep on a cold day, Bela Dimitrescu tries to find comfort in her favorite servant... only to end up being the one doing the comforting. Notes: This is super self indulgent, because my dreams have been murdering me recently. Reader is a selective mute/partially nonverbal, implied neurodivergent (unspecified), gender neutral but written with a non-binary person in mind, with non-specific past trauma. Basically this is somewhat of a self-insert fic but I've smudged some lines to make it more relatable for other people.

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

In the early hours of the day, when the sun had yet to reach its peak, a cold quiet fell over Castle Dimitrescu. Most inhabitants were of a nocturnal persuasion, and lay sleeping soundly at this hour. Those few that thrived in the sun moved softly, with caution, daring not to awaken their masters. Oh, if only they knew that one Lady of the house was awake, prowling the corridors with marked intent. What a chill it would send down their spines- what lovely fear would permeate the household.

Ah, but that was not what Bela Dimitrescu desired, at least not for now. No, what she needed was something she would never admit out loud. It was a “base” need, one that all humans felt, and so she feared that it was beneath her. There was only one person that she could trust for this: A servant, experienced in all matters needed of them, level-headed, compassionate… and, most importantly, selectively mute.

Over the past year, Bela had found herself growing closer to you, much to her own surprise. The two of you had started to bond through reading, after you had helped her reorganize a mess in the library (left by none other than Lady Daniela). Since then, you had proven to be a valuable ally, always finding creative solutions to the family’s problems. From jury-rigging a set of climbing gear for repairs, to proof-reading all formal letters, there was hardly any part of Bela’s life that you hadn’t assisted with. All while only ever saying two or three sentences- short ones, at that.

Neither of you would ever forget the first (and only) time you spoke out loud. A would-be hunter had infiltrated the estate, through a damaged skylight (which you later repaired), intending to prove his worth by killing the nobility inside. By the time Bela arrived, after being notified by a terrified maiden, she found the situation had already been aptly handled. There you had stood, clutching an ornate, bloodied cane like a club. In front of you had been the unconscious hunter.

“You could have been hurt!” Bela had snapped, unable to stop herself, glad that her sisters hadn’t arrived yet. Then you had glanced at the man, then her, then back to the man. Something uncharacteristically dark had danced in your eyes.

“He said he was going to save me… from you. Called me defenseless,” you had snarled, poking the man with your cane as you did. “Rude.” Before Bela even had a chance to react, her sisters had appeared, disappointed to find the fight already over. They had fought over who would get to kill the hunter, and somewhere in that chaos you had slipped away without another word.

That day had replayed itself in Bela’s mind hundreds of times in her mind. Though she would not readily admit it, that had been the day that her casual affection for you had started to turn into something more serious. These days she didn’t even know how to describe your relationship- after all, you had never told her how you felt. But you had held her, closely, fingers running through her hair while she fought off memories from someone else’s life. Held her in your arms, as she held you, staving off the cold like it was all you had ever known.

This was what she wanted. Your touch, your comfort. All that stood in her way was a familiar question: Where were you? Master of your environment, schedule constantly in flux, you were rarely where anyone expected you to be, especially when you were prone to taking on whatever tasks others hadn’t had time to finish. So Bela searches, quickly, around places the day-shift tends to gather. She’s careful not to be seen, even though she knows the maidens aren’t likely to gossip where her family might hear. In the end she catches a hint of your scent near the servants’ quarters, and curses herself for not checking there sooner.

Your room is one of the only single-occupancy rooms in this wing. Only senior staff were allowed within these places, most of them rotating out as they “lost their usefulness”. The fact that you had slept in the same bed every night for six months was a testament to your skill. It’s the kind of thought that brings Bela some semblance of warmth in her chest. Still, the thought alone is not enough, so she slowly eases your door open.

Her ears strain against the silence, listening for the pattern of your breathing, or the telltale murmurs that would announce your awakening. Instead, the first things she hears are little gasps, then the shifting of fabric. Dreams of some sort have you turning and tossing, lungs getting hungry in their pursuit of air. It’s not immediately clear whether or not you are enjoying the dream. Were these good gasps, like those that Daniela often cooed about when she praised her maiden? Or were these the same kind that sometimes haunted Bela herself?...

A whimper cuts through the air, and suddenly Bela loses all patience. Practically running, she crosses the room in an instant, concern etched into her brow. One hand cautiously reaches for your blanket, pulling it back enough for her to slide in next to you. It’s a risk, one that could make you wake up with a panic, but it’s one she’s willing to take. After all, she had asked you about this sort of thing before. Though you couldn’t form full sentences, you had experience “miming” things, and Bela was quite clever with her “yes or no” questions.

When she carefully wraps an arm around your waist, she does so with confidence. Beneath her touch you stiffen, back going as tense as possible, but you stop shaking. A few more gasps leave you, and Bela wonders whether or not she should wake you up. Less than a minute later the decision is made for her. All the sudden your gasping turns to a sharp exclamation, body jerking hard, eyes snapping open. Tension coils through your muscles, driving your already overstimulated brain overboard.

Before Bela can even try to comfort you, you sit up, quickly turning so your legs dangle off the edge of the bed. Muffled sobs pass your lips as you hold your face in your hands. Memories struggle against each other behind your eyes, blocking out every other sensation. Your jaw is clenched, hard, and you struggle to breathe between shakes. A hand touches your back, but quickly moves when you flinch in response. It takes a minute for you to even process who else is with you. Once you do, some of the tension bleeds from your body.

“If you’d rather be alone right now, I understand,” Bela says, quietly, as soon as she thinks you’ll be able to understand her. For a moment you can’t bring yourself to respond, and you can feel her side of the mattress shifting, like she’s getting ready to leave. Panic springs up in your chest again, so you quickly reach a hand out in her direction. Thankfully she knows what to expect at this point, easily finding your hand in the dark, gently taking it within her own. “One squeeze for yes, two for no?”

You squeeze, once.

“Do you want me to hold you?” Bela asks, trying to hide the hopefulness in her voice. It makes you pause, considering, even though you’re still overwhelmed by your sensory inputs. In the end you squeeze her hand twice. “No worries, my dear. Don’t be tempted to push yourself just for my sake.” Somehow she always knew how to read you like an open book. Even with the… difficulty of communicating with you. Not that she had ever complained, or even thought about it. Knowing you, and caring for you, made any effort feel as easy as breathing.

A few minutes pass without another word being said. Sometimes Bela gives your hand a little squeeze, just to check in, and you always return it. Soon enough your brain starts to relax, loosening its vice-like grip on your motor controls. Once again you can ease the tension in your muscles. Then you find yourself rubbing your thumb against Bela’s hand, moving in soft circular motions, head turning so you can smile at her. Even if it’s too dark for you to see much, you know that her eyes see you just fine.

“Feeling any better?” She asks, donning a smile of her own. One squeeze. “Is there anything more I can do to help?” A pause, then one squeeze. Now that your limbs don’t feel as staticky, there’s only one thing on your mind: Cuddling. You’re moving before you know it, briefly letting go of Bela’s hand so you can get closer to her, pressing your face into her neck and giving her a soft kiss. Then you’re falling against the bed, on your side, looking up at your partner with a grin. It doesn’t take her long to get the message, shifting back onto her side so she can hold you for real this time. One of your hands goes to rest on her back, to serve as your translator for the rest of the night. “I love you,” Bela says, without even thinking.

She freezes up afterwards, realizing that this is the first time she’s ever said the words out loud to you. For a moment she’s scared, a feeling alien to her, but she refuses to back down. It pays off a few seconds later, incredibly so, when you return the words the best way you can: One squeeze.

[tuanhood]

alpha

pairing: frat!im jaebeom x reader 

genre: lil bit of everything. lil smut, lil angst, maybe lots of fluff, established relationship

warnings: language, cringey frat stuff, public(??) fingering

word count: 4,200+

summary: your boyfriend’s frat doesn’t allow dating outside of greek life. hence the reason you two have had to sneak around for ten months... and hence the reason you’ve somehow found yourself stuck and hiding in a closet. 

a/n: wow long time no see! sorry for the delay, I’m really busy/stressing about dissertation stuff lately so updates and writings aren’t going to be frequent. but I really wanted to write this for ya’ll real quick to have SOMETHING, but yeah it’s not edited and NOT very good bc of the quickness. But I hope ya’ll will forgive me :) 

lambda | delta | gamma | kappa | theta | sigma

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

When you woke up this morning, you really didn’t think you would end up in a closet at the Alpha Sigma Phi house.

The space is cramped, dark and a little smelly. Judging by the odor, you guessed that this was the closet that the boys in the house used to throw garbage in whenever they had to “clean” the house. Maybe this situation would have been a little bit better if you had been pushed into the closet that’s on the second floor – that way there would be less garbage and less boy smell. But who were you kidding? There would be a boy smell regardless.

In theory though you really shouldn’t be stuck in a closet at a frat house thinking about which closet you’d rather be in. What had your life become lately?

“Just a little bit longer, okay?” You heard Jaebeom utter through the door. It instinctively made you roll your eyes. The tone of his voice was so nonchalant, as if you weren’t stuck in a small space. But of course, he was on the other side of the door in fresh air, with as much space to roam around as he pleased – he didn’t understand “just a little bit longer” was triggering.

As much as you lo- liked Jaebeom… you weren’t sure if you would be able to hide in small spaces for the entirety of your relationship.

Babe it’s not for our entire relationship… Just until we graduate.

When he had first said that you didn’t really think about the bigger picture. All you had thought about was how happy he made you and how much you loved being with him. And that was the most important thing to you. But lately the sneaking around and the hiding had been a little too much for you – you weren’t sure if you could keep it up for another year… It had already been 10 months and you were at your wits end. Every time you wanted to sit down to have the conversation with Jaebeom – the one where you tell him it’s either the end of hiding or the end of your relationship – he’d give you those eyes, that smile and it would be completely wiped from your thoughts.

Damn Im Jaebeom. You think you fucking love him.

“Jae…” you grumbled, hitting your head against the door a bit. It had already been what… a half hour?

You heard him shush you and another voice emerged from the other side of the door. “Hey man, any particular reason you’ve been standing here?” Jaebeom’s nervous laughter is a giveaway, you just hope that Yugyeom doesn’t pick up on it. “No reason… just… like the space over here… It’s good party watching space.”

There’s silence and you pressed your ear up to the door further, hoping to hear something. You jumped back when you heard your boyfriend’s panicked voice, “what are you doing?”

Yugyeom snorted, “Dude chill… I’m just getting more cups from the closet.”

“Uh… Let me! I’ll get them!”

“What?”

“Yeah no worries dude, I didn’t really do anything to help prep for the party so I might as well get some fucking cups from the closet,” Jaebeom chuckled, his voice shifting to a more normal tone, “to be honest I didn’t really even know this was happening tonight… otherwise…” He drifted off, mumbling the last part to himself. You know he’s referencing the fact that the two of you thought the house would be empty – many of the guys typically going out to a local bar on Thursdays, but to your surprise as you crossed the main foyer in the house, the front door opened with most of the guys in the frat piling through. That led to your push into the closet.

“Yeah well… Red Room was closed because apparently they have a rat problem. I feel like that’s a bunch of bullshit. I mean we go there every week… we would have noticed if there was a rat problem.”

“Maybe they were just good at hiding it.”

There’s a lull in silence and Yugyeom clicked his tongue, as if he thinking deeply about something, “but I guess you wouldn’t know… You really don’t go out with us on Thursdays anymore…” As much as you liked the guys in Jaebeom’s frat – from stories you’d heard through your boyfriend of course – it seemed like they were often pretty slow when it came to certain things. If Yugyeom was starting to get skeptical and began piecing things together then surely the rest of the guys would too.

“Let me get you guys those cups.”

Taking a small step back, you turn to the shelf on your right, finding the red cups almost immediately through the dimmed closet. As the door cracks open slightly, your boyfriend’s long arm appears in the small space, gesturing around – clearly looking for the cups.

“Dude what are you doing?” Yugyeom asked.

“I know where the cups are so why should I go in all the way and get claustrophobic?” You have to cover your mouth to stop yourself from laughing at Jaebeom’s fake explanation.

Yes, because why would anyone ever want to be stuck inside of a closet? Rolling your eyes – happy he can’t see – you thrust the cups forward into his wandering hand. You swear you hear him grunt at your force.

The cups and his hand disappeared along with the small sliver of light that comes from the door being open. “Well… here you go… the cups you wanted.” There’s another pause and you wished you could see what was going on – to know if Yugyeom was buying how uncharacteristically strange Jaebeom was being or if he was still suspicious.

“You should leave your creepy party watching spot and actually join the fun, ya know? Some of the girls from Theta are going to be by soon and I know Amanda’s been asking a lot about you lately.”

Yugyeom’s mention of another girl makes your skin crawl and you’re almost ready to pounce out of the closet and call it a day, but instead you clenched your fists and waited to hear your boyfriend’s response.

“Nah man… I’m good.”

“Come on… how long has it been since you last had any action? I’m pretty sure Amanda would be down to hook up tonight.” Instinctively you felt your hand go to the doorknob, gripping it tightly.

To your dismay Jaebeom says nothing in response and your mind starts running wild thinking about possible nonverbal responses he could have communicated to Yugyeom – perhaps one of them being “yeah I’ll totally bang Amanda tonight.”

And you know what… maybe he should. Maybe it’d be better for him to be with someone he can actually walk around campus with. To be with someone he could actually introduce to his friends. You weren’t any of those things.

The circumstances of your relationship with Jaebeom had been complicated from the beginning. The two of you had met in a random general ed class you were both forced to take for a stupid credit. Never in your life did you think you were going to meet your next boyfriend in “Comparative Post-Communist Politics.” The two of you had the lowest scores in the class and found yourselves bonding over your almost failing midterm grades, but luckily the two of you had passed the course. Thank god for the grading curve.

It had started just that simply – two people who were “class friends.” Nothing more, nothing less. You’d sit next to each other every lecture and laugh over how dumb you both were, but never made efforts to hang out after class or even study together in preparation for exams. It wasn’t until the final day of class that Jaebeom had asked you to get drinks. His request shocked you as you had figured that just like most “class friends” you two would part ways and never see each other again except for the occasional pass by on campus where each of you would squint and wonder how do I know that person? Were they in that one class I took that one time?

You were perhaps even more shocked when you agreed to go.

From then on, the two of you talked about things besides class and got to know each other on a more personal level. You had already known some very basic things about him – such as his affiliation with the Greek system – but soon enough Jaebeom was pouring his heart out to you, and you to him. Both of you admitted that you had never felt this comfortable with someone before.

It was probably you fifth- or sixth-time getting drinks at a secluded place downtown when Jaebeom revealed to you how much he liked you. You felt your heart leap out of your chest and just as you were about to reveal your own confession, he hit you with a “but…”

“but… I can’t technically date you. My frat’s chapter is really strict about dating outside of Greek life. When I was a pledge, they told me that they’ve kicked guys out for going out with girls who aren’t affiliated.”

In any other situation you would have gotten up and said “no thank you” to whoever the guy was, not wanting to waste your time on anything or anyone who prioritized some stupid brotherhood over their feelings for you. But this was Jaebeom… The Jaebeom that you had grown close to over such a short period of time and had told you how much Alpha Sigma Phi meant to him. He had grown up an only child and spent much of his younger years feeling lonely, which was what made him want to rush the frat. He wanted the close experience and to have strong loyalty and ties with the other members – just like with real brothers.

“We can make it work. I really like you too Jaebeom… I’m willing to try this and figure something out…”

At the time… you weren’t sure what “figure something out” really meant – especially since you weren’t supposed to be seen together by literally anyone. Most people on campus knew someone who knew someone that was in Alpha Sig and if anyone saw the two of you together, you’d risk it getting back to the guys at the house. Which was why for 10 months the two of you had been dating in secret – him coming over to yours almost every night and you sneaking over to the house every Thursday when the guys were usually gone until the early hours.

You felt like you were fighting back tears at the thought of Jaebeom with someone else, but maybe it was what was right. You deserved to not be a secret forever – you were in a closet for godssake – and Jaebeom deserved to be with the perfect sorority girl that he could take wherever he wanted without the risk of getting kicked out of his second home. Tightly shutting your eyes, you attempted to stop yourself from crying, but somehow it makes it worse with the first drop rolling down your cheek slowly.

“Baby? Are you crying?”

It’s then that you realized the door had been cracked open once again, Jaebeom looking behind him before slipping in with you, shutting the door tightly. It occurred to you how pathetic you must look, crying in a dim, cramped closet at a frat house.

Quickly, you tried to wipe the tears of your cheek and hiccupped slightly, “N-no I’m not crying. It’s just my allergies with all the dust in here.”

“You don’t have allergies…” He positioned himself closer to you, bringing his own hand up to your face to rest it on your cheek, feeling the wet trails your tears had left behind, “what’s wrong?” Biting your lip, you don’t say anything in the hopes that he’ll drop the subject. Jaebeom knows you well enough to know when you want to move on and not address a topic, but this time he can’t find it in himself to just let it go.

“Y/N tell me.”

The way his thumb continued to gently caress your cheek back in forth, makes you want to close your eyes and pretend you’re anywhere else besides here in this closet having this conversation. You’d rather be with your boyfriend in a place far away from here where you don’t have to hide and you don’t have to worry about perceptions.

“I was just thinking about what Yugyeom said about the girl from Theta.”

“Baby… I would never go behind your back and do something with her-”

You sighed deeply and felt your stomach drop as you kept wedging your way further and further into the conversation you had once been wanting to have. Not seeing his sparkling eyes and that look in bright light made the words somewhat easier to get out. “I know you would never do that… I just think sometimes maybe it’s best if you had someone you could actually be seen with.”

Jaebeom doesn’t say anything, because it’s at that moment he feels his own stomach churn and feel sick. Making out your saddened face in the dark closet and listening to your words he realizes what he’s done. The way you had said “if you had someone you could actually be seen with” as if there was something wrong with you. As if you were less then. He wanted to kick himself for making you feel like that when it was in fact his fault and his own issues that stopped the two of you from being together publicly. Was brotherhood really so important to him when he was at risk of losing the person he loves?

Loves.

Reality hit him again.

“No,” Jaebeom finally said shaking his head, “I don’t want anyone else. I only want you and I’m sorry for making you feel like this. You’ve been so willing to hide this just because I’m a fucking idiot… because you understand how much this all meant to me.”

“Meant?”

He delicately brings his hands to rest at your waist, leaning close enough forward until you can feel his breath on your face, “I have something in my life that’s more important than getting kicked out of a stupid frat. I-I love you Y/N.”

You don’t answer him for a moment and he feels like he’s going to collapse at first from your lack of response. He wonders if maybe he had read the last 10-months completely wrong or if you had finally had enough with his bullshit and he was just too late. Jaebeom feels all of these worries and doubts fade away when you lean forward to press your lips against his. “I love you too,” you mumbled against his lips and you felt your boyfriend smile, his grip tightening on your waist and bringing you even closer to his body until you’re flush against one another.

You felt one of his hands drift down from your waist to the hem of your skirt, slowly caressing your thigh and slipping itself underneath the material until it’s hitched up above his hand. Removing yourself from his lips, you let out a lustful sigh to let him know how much you want him to do what he’s thinking about doing. As he rests his forehead against yours, he looks down between your two bodies, his hand going to your panties, gently playing with the waistband – snapping it back and forth gently to tease you.

“Do you want me to take back that I love you?” You asked playfully.

Jaebeom laughed, “you wouldn’t dare.”

Just as you’re about to respond with a bratty “try me,” you feel him dip his hand underneath the now damp material. He smiled at your caught off guard reaction. His fingers brushed your core, his index finger moving along your slit as he gathered your juices on his finger before he brought it to his lips and sucked them gently. You watched him in the dim light and felt yourself somehow grow more wet than before. He moved his fingers back down, his thumb pressing up against your clit and you felt yourself suck in a breath at the feeling, before two of his digits pushed into your completely. With the small amount of space, you had, you lifted your hips in an effort to get more of him inside of you and he chuckled at the action.

“We have all night baby girl, don’t worry. I take care of you, always.”

You exhaled at the feeling of his thumb massaging your clit and his fingers began to pump into you at a slow rhythmic pace. He watched you for a moment wondering how he got so lucky before returning his lips back to yours.

A groan arose in your throat and against Jaebeom’s lips as he curled his middle finger into you, hitting that spot that always made you so weak and you feel your thighs begin to twitch as you near your high. Sometimes it amazed you how quick he could make you reach your release, but he already knew everything else about you so well it shouldn’t come as a surprise that he would excel at this as well.

When he picked up the pace of his fingers fucking into you, continuing to hit your g-spot each time, you felt yourself quickly come apart and your walls clench around his fingers tightly. You dropped your head down to his shoulder and felt like there wasn’t any breath left in your body as you rode out the waves of your orgasm, Jaebeom making sure not to overstimulate you and slowing his fingers down. When he finally removes his hand from you, you feel so empty almost like your body just wants to be that close to him all the time – not even in a sexual way.

When you finally feel strong enough, you bring your head off of Jaebeom’s shoulder and wrap your hands around his neck tightly, bringing him in for another kiss.

“I love you.”

“I love you too. I never want to stop saying it and I never want to stop hearing it.”

With arms still around his neck, you gently play with the hair at his nape. You feel happier than you’ve felt in a long time – which was saying something considering how happy your boyfriend had made you the past 10 months.

“Should we get out of this closet?” Jaebeom asked with shut eyes, feeling relaxed every time he’s under your touch.

“Now? You want everyone to see us now?”

He shrugged, “They’re going to find out either way so might as well just do it now. I just hope they give me time to get my stuff before they kick me out.” You feel yourself frown at his candor and the thought of Jaebeom losing the sense of belonging he had gained from being in Alpha Sig, but you remember his previous assurances. You had one another and everything was going to be fine.

Just as you’re about to respond to him, you’re interrupted by a sudden emergence of light into the closet signaling the opening of the door. You and Jaebeom both freeze when you see Yugyeom and some of the other brothers behind him.

“Can you two just come out already?”

It’s almost as though both you and your boyfriend had forgotten all of your words. Instead you stare at one another with wide eyes.

“We’re tired of all this waiting. Just come out and introduce us to your girlfriend already man,” Yugyeom whined.

This was embarrassing. Had they been… listening?

“Listen ‘Gyeom I know you chose today’s date in the pool, but that doesn’t mean you win the bet,” one of the guys from behind him said.

Yugyeom lets out a large groan and turns to the member, “what? Why not? I chose today and he was going to do it today! I swear!”

“Yeah but you ruined it by opening the door! You pretty much made the whole thing void… Haven’t you heard of like… not ruining the controlled variable in the experiment or whatever the fuck?”

“The controlled variable was the door? That doesn’t make sense. You’re as dumb as a bag of bones dude,” Yugyeom snorted, turning back to you and Jaebeom. It’s then that you feel relief as Jaebeom finally cleared his throat to say something to the many pairs of eyes fixated on you both, “can you guys please explain to me what’s going on here?”

Yugyeom rolled his eyes at Jaebeom as if it was the most obvious thing in the world to understand, “we had a bet going for when you would finally tell us about your secret girlfriend… Who to be honest isn’t really a secret. I sit next to Y/N’s friend in Econ… class friends ya know.”

You felt your mouth go dry. If they knew about Jaebeom dating an unaffiliated girl this entire time why did they let it play out for so long? Why didn’t they say something to him and make him break up with you or kick him out of the frat? Were they trying to torture the two of you for the longest amount of time possible?

It’s then when you really take in each member of Alpha Sig’s face and you see no malice or disgust at the fact that you’re not a non-affiliate. They almost seemed… happy.

You felt Jaebeom take his head into yours and he sighs once more before looking back to the guys, “listen… Y/N is my girlfriend and has been for the last 10 months… I’ve put her through so much shit and made her sneak around which she did willingly because of how amazing she is. I’ve never felt so loved and cared for by someone before and I can’t put her through more shit that’s going to make her feel less then she is. I love her and I’m sorry you guys can’t accept that. I can be out of here by tomorrow.”

As Jaebeom goes to move the two of you out of the closet, Yugyeom places his hand up causing you both to stop in your tracks.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Jaebeom looks to you and then back to Yugyeom, “the rule… that we’re not allowed to date anyone who’s not affiliated. When we were pledges they told us they’ve kicked guys out for breaking the rule… remember?”

The boys in front of Jaebeom all look at him blankly until Yugyeom begins to laugh, the rest of the guys following him until you have approximately 6 frat guys laughing in your faces. Looking at your boyfriend his eyebrows are furrowed. You can’t tell if he’s confused at their reaction or annoyed.

It takes a moment for Yugyeom and the boys to finally stop laughing, “Jae… are you joking? Is that why you haven’t introduced her to us? Because of that stupid rule?”

“Yeah…”

Coming closer, Yugyeom placed his hand on Jaebeom’s shoulder, “Dude… that rule is not real. They’ve never kicked anyone out over dating someone who’s unaffiliated. Sure, the upperclassmen then didn’t want us to date someone not in an org, but they would have never made us leave… That kinda goes against the whole brotherhood thing. Besides, now we’re the upperclassmen and we just care that we’re all happy. You included.”

You felt like you could run a marathon at the amount of energy and feelings coursing through your body. You wanted to hug all of the semi-strangers in front of you, but also you wanted to hit Jaebeom for thinking that rule was a real thing when it was in fact… apparently not. In the back of your head, you make a mental note to lecture him on next time it never hurts to ask questions before you get into a secret 10-month relationship that might not need to be a secret.

“Thanks guys,” Jaebeom smiled at his brothers, with his hand still holding onto yours, caressing your smooth skin with his thumb.

“Now let’s continue this party, shall we?” Yugyeom yelled loudly as the rest of the guys cheer back in response, most of them heading back to the main living space until it’s just you, Jaebeom and Yugyeom.

The younger boy shakes his head, “I still can’t believe you were in that closet the entire time… which reminds me. I am never going in there again after the actions that occurred in there,” you felt your face grow hot at his admittance that he had heard or at least knew what had happened in the closest just moments before his grand entrance.

“I still can’t believe you knew the entire time and didn’t say anything!” You whined.

“I was expecting you to jump out as soon as I mentioned Amanda… That’s why I brought it up. Which by the way man,” Yugyeom turned to Jaebeom, “none of the girls at Theta give a shit about you.”

“That’s totally okay. There’s only one girl I want to give a shit about me,” Jaebeom smiled proudly placing his arm around you in front of Yugyeom and everyone else at the party. He relishes in how comfortable it feels to finally be like this with you in front of some of the most important people in his life. Besides you of course.

You hummed in delight and nuzzled your head against his arm, into his shoulder, “She doesn’t just give a shit about you. She kind of loves you too.”

“Just kind of?”

“Nah with her full heart.”

[adultingautistic]

Heyyy! So, when I was a kid, I was able to do a lot of things - I was on the gifted list for english lessons and in a seperate class, I was p decent at math, and science was easy peasy. Now, I'm much older and heading into higher education,, but It seems my needs have changed. My sensory issues are a lot worse, but the thing that strikes me the most is how my needs for support have changed. I now need help reading questions so I don't miss out on important information, and I need extra- (1/2)

(2/2) time to process things in order to be able to answer things or give a coherent reply. Bombarding me with questions verbally causes me to go nonverbal. I have meltdowns a LOT. Is this a common occurance in autistic people? When I was small I didn't show as many traits, but as the world has changed around me, I've begun to show more traits, and been in need of far more support. Should I be worried? Does this happen a lot? How can I deal with it? Thank you for your time. -🦈

Ask Date: September 10th

Hi, are you me?  Did I secretly write this ask?  

Because you are describing my life exactly.

I was also very bright in gradeschool/highschool and flew through the lessons with one eye closed because they were so easy for me.  Forget needing extra help, I was giving it!  I tutored a whole bunch of my friends and helped other countless kids understand the assignments.

Then my first year of college, I failed out.  My grades for my first semester in college were F, D, F, I, and P. (Fail, Fail, Incomplete, and “Pass” which is code for “your grade was extremely low”). Basically, you can’t do worse.

Now I was also going through some incredible emotional trauma at the time involving my family that I won’t go into here...but had I been in high school at the time, I know my grades wouldn’t have suffered as much as they did.

So what happened?

This is only a theory, because I can only base this on my own experience as an autistic student.  But I think what happened was it was too much change, too fast, with a sudden lack of support that was once there.

So here’s the thing.  Autistics struggle in huge ways to learn social rules.  This makes it really hard for us to make friends, gets us bullied, gets us called “weird”, etc.  We need things explicitly spelled out for us, we need to be told what the rules are But school, as it is for a kid, is the MOST structured environment most of us will ever be in (the only thing I can think of that’s even more structured than school is the military).  And this enables autistics to thrive!

School is all about routine!  It’s about doing the same things and going the same places every day.  The rules are explicitly explained, and they are clear, and we can understand them and follow them!  Raise your hand if you want to speak!  Don’t talk during a test!  These rules are concrete and we can understand them, and follow them.

So then you spend 12 years learning the ins and outs of “School social”.  By the time you get to the end of high school, you’ve got it down.  You’ve spent your whole life at this and you’re pretty good at it.  You know what to expect, you know what to do.

And then it’s gone.

Boom.  Nothing.

College is nothing like grade school was.  Your day isn’t pre-determined for you by others, you determine your schedule.  If you forget a homework, no teacher is going to remind you the next day or ask you again.  You just get a 0, nobody says anything, and life goes on.  If you missed how the professor was informing students of what the assignments were, then well- you just don’t know what they are.  Nobody’s going to check up on you.  Nobody’s going to care that you’re failing.  The professor is not there to support you.

In fact, you suddenly have NO support, at ALL.  It’s hard to see when you’re IN gradeschool how much support you’re really getting, but it’s a lot.  Teachers guide you.  They explain things many times.  They bug you when you forgot an assignment.  They let you complete things late.  There is so much help that you’re used to, and it’s enough support that you’re able to actually use your brain for what it’s supposed to be used for - learning.

When I first got to college, I had a bunch of zeros for my grades, and I didn’t even know where they came from.  Apparently, the professors had been giving out assignments- but I missed that social cue, and I was unaware there were assignments.  And it was different in every class.  Some of them just quietly wrote it on the board, never said a word, and dear God you hoped you noticed it.  Some of them just sent an email.  If you didn’t know to read your email, welp.  Some of them just handed out the syllabus with due dates and that was that.

It was impossible for me.  My communication struggles suddenly hit me head-on like a brick to the face.  

On top of that, the precious, precious routine from grade school was gone.  Suddenly I was supposed to plan my day, and decide what to do with my time- when I had spent exactly 0 minutes learning how to do that or building those kinds of skills in gradeschool.  

This was beyond stressful.  And what happens when I’m stressed?  My ability to handle sensory input crashes.  Normally, I can handle a Bad Input or two for awhile, but if I’m already stressed, I can’t handle anything.  So that yucky smell coming from that person next to you?  What was before a little annoying is now “I have to leave the room” levels of intolerable.  

Forget trying to be social, or to communicate.  You mentioned being asked questions as sending you into near overload territory to the point that you go nonverbal- and this can absolutely happen if you’re stressed.  

Autistics struggle hugely with change.  Change is very, very difficult for us.  And going from high school to college is one of the biggest changes there is in a person’s life.  It’s a huge thing to handle.  It’s going to cause stress.  Which is going to lower your ability to process verbal questions, and all other sensory input.

So basically, yes, this is absolutely normal for an autistic person who is facing such a huge change.  When we are stressed, all our autistic traits “show more”.  That’s because we have less energy to mask.  We can’t compensate.  

But what you are doing is exactly the right thing.  You’re using the supports that are given to you, and bravo to you for doing that!  Rather than needlessly struggling, you’re making use of the accommodations that are available, so that you can still succeed!  This is wonderful, and excellent self-care.

It took you 12 years to learn how to do grade school correctly.  Learning how to do college is much harder and a huge change from that.  It’s like you’re starting the game over from level 1- all the skills, items, and experience you earned is gone, because it’s a totally new level and the rules are so very different.

You do not have to be worried about yourself.  It’s not really you that has changed, it’s your environment.  The support system of routine, familiarity, and consistency that you had relied on for all your life are now gone, which is making your autistic traits “show” more, but they were always there.  You were just compensating for them without realizing it.

Now you’re realizing you’re compensating for them, by using accommodations, but that’s okay.  That’s exactly what you SHOULD be doing.  The point isn’t what accommodations you needed- the point is to get the degree.  And once you get it, it will be just as valid and count for just as much as anyone else’s, and you will have earned it, and you deserve it. 

 You’re doing amazing and I’m super proud of you.  Keep going!

[thatnamelessbutler]

(OoC: So, what's the AU thing about?)

((ooc: Okay so basically I got an idea form a song completely unrelated to the fandom and long story short, Bi n Bu are no longer able to escape from the Egg except through a very specific method, and then Karl comes back along and bippity boppity your body is now our property!

So, yeah. Body-swap AU except Karl kinda dies because to get the swap to work everyone's body had to die. Karl's gets healed afterwards through magical time shenanigans-

So Billiam and Rune(Bu's new name in this AU) wake up in the library, in our current DSMP present, in the weird body of this weird guy who's apparently a weird color-shapeshifter.(yeah, i'm going with the cryptid creature Karl for this one because. it's cool as heck and I never see this anywhere)

a little while after they wake up in the present, karl wakes up after being dormant because he literally died and it's like "HEY WAIT WHAT THE HECK YOU STOLE MY BODY" and everyone else goes "shit shit shit shit"

p.s if you're wondering where hubert is he's dead. the egg killed nearly everyone except billiam and butler because bi is its main caretaker and bu will never leave his side

(more under the cut please there's so much and i actually love this au so much)

Now I'm not a system but I imagine these four(yes, four; Billiam, Rune, Piam(Billiam's Piglin side), and Tune(Bu's Other) operate kind of like one. They have an innerworld and everything, they aren't just all constantly crammed into the front. That would get confusing, stressful and difficult to manage overall. Bu's usually the one fronting because no one else wants to; Billiam doesn't wanna do it because he doesn't wanna mingle with the "poor", Tune doesn't wanna do it because it always gets tripped up with literally everything about the body, it's not even dangerous enough to protect now, and Piam doesn't wanna do it because he's kind of scared of the Overworld someone that doesn't know how to be a Human Person

Oh yeah and I've also talked about all this and more with my bestie so here's a copy-paste of that conversation-

I think an encounter with Sapnap and/or Quackity would go terribly too, until they sit down and explain things as best they can wait no actually "So basically, we killed your fiancée so we could inhabit his body and escape from a really bad situation. sorry" Acid Sapanap would go feral and I can't even begin to conceive what extremely destructive thoughts Quackoty would start having Me MHM Sapnap probably pulls a sword on them and they automatically reach for their own before remembering "Oh shit, we don't have it. OH SHIT-" and then they just gotta r u n Butler's trying desperately to teleport but without a pearl, eeeeeh that's not gonna do anything buddy I'm not sure if Karl has armor in his inventory or not but either way they wouldn't have the time or coordination to equip it Acid they just immediately die it'd be so funny Me "NOT AGAIN, WE JUST GOT FREE- death" Now lets hope either Karl has some extra canon lives, or those lives Billiam bought carry over Acid PFFFFT, BILLIAM'S LIVES GET CARRIED WITH THEM AND IT'S JUST revives ok listen we don't gotta dies revives please let's just dies revives why do you do t dies revives this is just gonna last forever isn't it? dies rev- Me wheeze YEAH "GET OUT OF KARL'S BODY!" "We can't!! It's already been done!! dies" "WHY WON'T YOU DIE!!?" "We are!!??" ohhh, bonus angst points if every time they die, Butler goes a little more dormant- Butler was only meant to have one life, he never got any Totems and his soul cannot take this in the way Billiam's can After about 15 deaths, Billiam gets Sapnap to stop for about five seconds, and in those five seconds he realizes that he can no longer hear or feel Butler Acid oh god Me If he manages to get far enough away and find someplace to hide(perhaps the library again), he dips into the headspace and finds Butler just gone. He looks around for a while and finds them far away from where they were, collapsed on the ground, flickering slightly, and entirely unresponsive. And no matter how much he tries, they just won't wake up, and their Ender half has disappeared completely. He can't do anything except wait for them. Acid fjsjdj oh my god imagine Billiam just goes feral after that he's like "what did you do to m y B u t l e r" and just jumps on Sapnap with his bare hands Me Oh absolutely, he will Murder Sapnap without a second thought and he doesn't care how many deaths he has to go through to do it even though dying more will make it take longer for butler to wake up, and then afterwards he'll be pacing around random areas stress-stimming intensely and waiting for his child to wake up Acid yeap Me Somehow he finds his way to Kinoko Kingdom and is like "oh, this looks like a good place for a walk" and then spends the entire time not actually looking at anything and drowned in anxiety

AND THEN THESE WERE LAST NIGHT'S THOUGHTS, SOMEHOW LATER ON THEY END UP AT SAPNAP'S PLACE CAUSE THEY TECHNICALLY DON'T HAVE A PLACE TO STAY Unless you count the library but I don't think that would be very comfortable-

Anyway, Rune was fronting when they fell asleep and then their chronic nightmares came back. Sapnap wakes up(or was he ever really sleeping?) to some almost animalistic gasping in the other room and runs in to find Karl Karl's body curled on the bed, barely humanoid and random flashes of color spiking over him in waves and clawlike hands digging into his head

So he tries to wake him up, and when he does Bu's first reaction is to scramble away in pure terror because he's not fully out of the nightmare yet, there are even tears running down his face that just get absorbed back into the mass of color. Sapnap tries to calm him down, and eventually succeeds enough to ask him what the hell happened, and who's fronting once he remembers that that is a thing-

Thing is, Bu's gone nonverbal, but hey at least Karl was some sort of shapeshifter so they can just shift blobs of color into the air to answer Sapnap's questions

He very quickly learns only to ask yes/no ones because he can't read Galactic which is the only thing Bu can respond in, but that whole night ends on a pretty good note :3

Acid IS KARL IN THE SYSTEM CANON? HE'D BE THE MAIN FRONTER IF IT IS I THINK Me After that nightmare Rune finds himself trusting Sapnap a little more but also not as able to front, he's just so tired of it. No one else wants to front, he always has to stay there and he never gets a break. At least before, Tune had control during the night and he got to rest some. Now his sleep schedule is just as abhorred as before and no one else even comes near the front. He tries as long as he can, for everyone else's sake, but after weeks of fronting alone he just can't anymore. So he finally leaves the front and just collapses face-first into idk a patch of grass in the innerworld or something, and he's so exhausted of being a person that he can't even think straight, He doesn't want consolation, he doesn't want promises, he doesn't even want cuddles he just wants someone else to take over for a bit. Me OOH MAYBE He wakes up and wanders around the innerworld figuring out what the heck is going on and wondering why he can't see the outside anymore and oh god is he dead, are they all dead maybe they're all dead and none of them know it, and then Rune comes out of front and practically begs to not have to be a person anymore, he tells Karl "please i just want a break, just go out there or get someone else to go out there for a while please" and, well, Karl takes a chance and goes out to front and holy shit is this the real world, holy shit are those his fiancées, holy s h i t Acid THAT'S THE BESR OUTCOME ACTUALLY Me YESSSSSSSSS MASQUERADE SYSTEM + KARL THE MAN HIMSELF JACOBS Acid YESSS Me Karl and Rune are now host and co-host, because. no one else wants to front Acid Karl tricking Billiam into fronting.mp4 Me GSHDFGBSGDHFBSF Rune and Karl lock him into front and Rune proceeds to lean against the nearest flat surface, slide down and then dissociate for the next couple/several hours Karl makes sure no one disturbs him, even if Tune and Piam are Very Worried about their exhausted Human hybrid Acid them taking care of Rune (affectionate)

Acid OK WAIT I WAS THINKING AND IN SYSTEMS PEOPLE USUALLY MANIFEST SO I WAS THINKING HOW THAT'D WORK IN THE MASQUERADE SYS AND I REALIZED THAT EVERYONE IN THERE IS TECHNICALLY DEAD IN A WAY WHAT IF THAT'S THIS AU'S LIMBO? ONE DAY WILBUR POPS UP AND COMMITS MULTIPLE CRIMES AGAINST HUMANITY Me HOLY SHIT OH SHIT EVERYONE THAT PERMA-DIES JUST ENDS UP AS AN ALTER IN KARL'S WEIRD COLOR-SHAPESHIFTING BODY XDDD You can always tell who's fronting by the colors, as long as you actually know them enough to know their colors- Acid Wilbur: hello Quackity, I am BAC- Karl: oh my GOD Wilbur shut the FUCK UP we understand it you're gay now please get out of front I have a date in 10 minutes Acid OOOOO YES Me Like Rune is purple/pink(mainly pink) gray-red/dark purple/orange/green eyes(right/right/left/left, respectively), and then he has some other colors sifting through, like a dark indigo-blue and a yellow the color of Endstone Tune is all of that but some of it is darker(the pinks/purples and Endstone color), some of it's the same(the eyes, except they have a light pink shine over them) and some of it is inverted. Clouds will waft around the body when it's fronting and whenever you look through the clouds you'll see the colors inverted Billiam is solidly pale pink except for his eyes(maroon) and his hands and feet(gold, with veins streaking out and tapering off at about the elbow) Piam is a slightly redder pink, with spots of a Netherrack color here and there, and his gold is more orangey, like there's fire reflecting off of it karl is just. karl. Of course he's got the signature swirls in bright violent and teal but other than that he's just a smorgasbord of color, usually bright and neon. When he's near/thinking about Sapnap and/or Quackity, little hearts start popping off him

[elmidol]

Error: Program Not Found - One

Summary:  You are in charge of programming the droids that work most closely with both General Hux and Kylo Ren. Unbeknownst to you, each of these two men have it in their heads that your relationship extends beyond the workplace. This causes things to escalate quickly when your two apparently secret boyfriends compare notes on their respective partner who is far too similar for their liking.

Read on AO3

“When I let go of what I am, I become what I might be.” -Lao Tzu

One: Reboot

Of all responsibilities that you had experienced firsthand when it came to working with the entity that called itself the First Order, you found that the most taxing entailed interactions with senators. These self-entitled politicians presented a visible change in demeanor for one man in particular; the man charged with the task of completing a project known as Starkiller. The less pleasant atmosphere that developed did not lessen the intrigue you felt to work alongside the ginger-haired general. The woman you had worked with prior to accepting this position with the First Order had made your life miserable. She had learned each and every one of your insecurities while in the guise of a trusted companion then tore you down as best she could. Generally you did not think of her anymore, however there were occasions when this changed.

 You were in charge of the maintenance of the protocol droids that General Armitage Hux used when he confronted Centrist senators of planets not well versed in basic. The droid currently present was one that you yourself had designed and named when working with the aforementioned woman. TeeArr, as you fondly called him, was offering facts that General Hux clearly believed unimportant and unnecessary, thus slowing the progress of the meeting. The man’s attention to appearances was what had him restraining himself from shouting at TeeArr to silence itself. If looks could kill, though, your droid would be long dead.

 “Assassination attempts on individuals of your stature are not unheard of. It is unlikely that we will encounter such obstacles with this senator. Although we cannot rule out the potential that we will be double-crossed.”

 A part of you wondered if this line of thought stemmed from that history between you and the other woman. TeeArr was protective of you, more than most protocol droids were. It was one of the reasons that you had grown more attached to him. Others might have laughed that you considered a droid to be your dear friend, but you would tell them to shove things where the sun didn’t shine.

 Prior to the unsolicited comments from the droid, the room that the three of you occupied had been filled with silence. There was a podium at the front along with a holoprojector that could be used to display a variety of pertinent data. You were seated in one of the chairs that likely held the daily function of holding the students that were enrolled in the academy as they listened to lectures. General Hux sat mere feet away, and TeeArr hovered almost directly atop him. You were somewhat surprised that the redhead had lasted this long without fully scowling. He had glared vibroblades at the droid, yes, but no expression had utilized his entire face. Until now. That expression of disdain and annoyance presented itself at long last.

 “It would be unwise to voice these suggestions where they can easily be overheard.” His eyes slid away from the droid over to you. A nonverbal tell that his patience was running thin. While you did find the situation mildly amusing, you were a professional. You kept a straight face and gave a nod to indicate acknowledgment of the order he was giving you.

 The protocol droid was rather oblivious to the man’s ire, although TeeArr did verbally acknowledge that yes, it would be unfortunate to be overheard. After clearing your throat, you suggested that the droid, being so concerned, move closer to the door and see if it was able to hear if anyone was coming. While TeeArr completed this task, you mentally calculated just how many times the man you worked for would impatiently tap his foot. You were grateful that this particular protocol droid never complained when assigned menial tasks. The same could not be said for other droids you had programmed. Another model, for instance, had met its end via a bolt from Hux’s blaster, which had decimated the droid’s head.

 TeeArr returned with the information that there were no signs of approach from the other side of the door. In truth, you had expected no different. Your attention slipped back to the General, whom you watched as he stared at the floor like he was determined to change the ugly carpeting inside the room. You recognized it as a pattern that had been installed in part of the base you had first worked on after joining the First Order; the carpet had been due to an inventory error that was caused by a disgruntled former employee. It had taken weeks to install and another three weeks to have it successfully removed. The room was now referred to as Kylo Ren’s tantrum room by a select few, yourself included. General Hux was frequently reminded of all the equipment that had been damaged by the Knight’s saber because of the error. It was no wonder he was in a sour mood.

 The comfortable silence that had befallen the room persisted until a young assistant entered the room. She bowed by way of greeting whilst saying, “General Hux, the senator has finished preparations for the meeting and will see you now.”

 “Very good.” His tone betrayed the words. It was not ‘very good’ that it had taken this long for preparations to be completed seeing as how this meeting had been the senator’s idea. The unprofessional manner in which the senator was conducting himself was nothing that the redhead hadn’t experienced.

 You inwardly chuckled upon noticing that he had a slight limp, likely from his foot falling asleep. When General Hux started to look over his shoulder to check whether or not you were following him, you lifted your gaze to not upset him with your observations. To him, looks were everything.

 The assistant wore flats, which ensured little sound was made with each of her steps. You were impressed by this, and you had a vague impression that General Hux was taking silent notes. Less noise meant less distractions in the workplace. It would not be the first time someone suggested that female officers would not be allowed to wear heels. You varied between flats and heels; it was dependent upon your mood and what tasks would be yours for the day. There were also occasions when it was easier due to after work events.

  It took roughly three minutes for your small entourage to reach the room. The assistant opened the door, stepping aside for your superior to enter. You pressed two fingers against the bridge of your nose as the TR droid rudely stepped in front of you to file in after the man. This was, thankfully, the droid’s trial run for working in this environment; the meeting would largely consist of individuals who could speak Basic. It was a test in behavior. So far the droid was failing. You were not going to point that out yet. It was difficult to predict how droids would react seeing that they had no facial expressions.

 You thanked the assistant by way of a quick nod as you walked past her into the room. She returned the gesture. The door closed behind you without the woman joining you.

 You, General Hux, and the droid stood on one side of a long table that was in the center of the room. The other party was directly across from you. The senator was quite like how you imagined. Richly dressed to the point of gaudiness. You held in your opinions. After all, you were a professional and knew that anything you said would reflect on the entire First Order. The senator and his group viewed you as nothing more than an underling. Some hound to be kept muzzled. You would entertain this view with the knowledge that in reality you were one of the top droid programmers from your home system.

 “We are appreciative of your presence here,” an older gray-haired man said. His attire marked him as one of the senator’s advisors.

 General Hux stood more straighter still, something you had not realized was possible; the man was so rigid. “I am hard pressed for time considering the projects that I currently am charged with overseeing. Due to the delay, I have to admit that I find myself doubting the sincerity of your words.”

 You would have felt sorry for the blushing senator if it hadn’t been that exact individual who had arranged this meeting. As for the underlings of the politician, you did empathize.

 “Please, have a seat,” the senator said. It was notable that he dismissed General Hux’s valid complaints without acknowledging them at all. By way of response, the redhead crossed his arms as he scowled and continued to stand. You were not certain if you should stand or sit. Feet hurting from the heels you were wearing, you silently cursed the pain of several forming blisters and decided to stand in solidarity with your superior. You were hopeful that with General Hux having seen the practicality of the assistant wearing flats for this occasion, that maybe the redhead would not push for you to follow the current First Order dress code for meetings which did involve heels for non-officers. After all, it was only because of his insistence and love for appearances that you were wearing the shoes that you were.

 “I require more information on these projects that you speak of. I am providing funding for the Order.” The senator drummed his fingers on the flat surface in front of him while TeeArr translated his subsequent words regarding that this had been stipulations agreed upon at the start of their contract.

 You observed your superior in your peripheral. The protocol droid remained silent, and this was something that caused you to feel an enormous amount of relief. General Hux’s lips were a thin line as he stared at the party across the table. He understood the impact silence could have on people. The senator swallowed thickly. Beads of sweat began to gather on his brow. The red-haired man was in contrast perfectly calm. On the exterior, that is. This was a topic of annoyance for him. Senators were far too nosey, which was frustrating. They provided the funding yet they also had loose lips when it came to information that could be sold or further their political career.

 “The plans have not changed,” General Hux said simply. Irritation flashed in the senator’s gaze, a deeper blush forming on his cheeks. He sputtered, spittle hitting the table. You were thankful that it did not reach you, something that would have been more than a little disgusting. “Our agreement was that you would be given limited information for the sake of privacy and reducing the risks of security breaches.”

 “Regardless, we need to know where the credits are going,” the senator said, slowly raising his eyes to appraise the General’s well-groomed hair before considering your attire as well. “It could be that you funnel the credits for your own personal expenses.” It was a good thing, you reasoned, that you had previously set down your datapad, as you would have dropped it. This senator was far more bold than the ill-mannered protocol droid with which General Hux had been contending

 It was through clenched teeth that your superior responded. “I can assure you, senator,”--he spoke the title as though it were a swear-- “that I do not allow my personal interests to interfere with my work.” You wondered just how many times and in how many ways he had imagined himself murdering the man.

 “If I may,” you said quietly, prepared to be silenced by either your superior or the senator. Neither broke out of the staring contest into which they had entered, and yet you could tell that you had their attention all the same. “Our reasons for requiring more funding is that we are dedicated to completing a project that will assist us in our ultimate goal. Right now it is one of our main priorities.”

 “And what is this ‘main priority’?” the senator asked with a sneer. You knew that this expression came as a result of his having broken eye contact first in order to properly address you.

 General Hux glared, his eyes landing on each person sitting or standing in the room. “It would be unwise to allow this information to leave this room. We are currently working on an army of assassination droids.” The man raised one of his gloved hands, making a gesture in the air towards the protocol droid that was standing beside him. You had a good sabacc face, which is what kept you from reacting. As for the droid…

 “Well, this is an honor, to be allowed to present the fine details of such a highly important project. Alas, sir, I regret to inform you that I have not been granted access to any such files on the matter.” TeeArr took another moment to notice that General Hux was essentially pointing at him for another reason. “Sir! I am a protocol droid, well-versed in--”

 “That, of course, is the cover,” the redhead said, cutting off both the droid and the response that the senator had started. Trying again, the senator properly voiced his skepticism and the doubt he held regarding the protocol droid as an assassin.

 You nodded when General Hux looked to you to continue. “Beginning with this new line, we will be able to place the droids where they will eventually be hired by the target or someone close to the target. The TR line is short for TR8-0R. Since the droids will be viewed as traitors, and thus those who arranged the hit will never be revealed, this was the agreed upon name. It’s been rather exhausting, ensuring that both the assassination and protocol programs are correctly coded into the droids’ memories.”

 You did not miss the way the senator’s eyebrows started to rise. He was nodding with approval. His lips were pursed forward, and you wondered if he was thinking of political rivals he would love to see assassinated. Would this be a new project that would now be official for the First Order? Or would General Hux be able to make up an excuse for the project failing? Should that occur, the senator would possibly demand a return of finances. Unless he died…

 TeeArr had switched its optics to watch you. The droid was loyal to you, for which you were grateful. He never said a word to undermine your authority or unveil this lie. This served you well since the senator expressed increased interest in the line of fake droids. He was curious to see them in action, which had you silently speculating that he was imagining assassinating numerous rivals with the droids. This was not unlike some of the officers in the First Order. Politics was a deadly business, and the militaristic life of the First Order bred a similar mortality rate.

 Likely sensing that the tense atmosphere in the room was not going to dissolve despite the ability to share ideas without either side firing shots, the senator conferred with his advisors and proposed an end to the meeting. He did press to be kept updated in regards to this new project that he would be financing. You nearly snorted. It was funny, you thought, that in the end he was forking over more credits when he had been the one to propose this meeting to see where his credits were going. Some people were reckless. A pity for those on his planet that had to suffer in order to line his pockets.

 “I look forward to our next meeting,” the senator said with a nod of dismissal.

 By some miracle, TeeArr held its vocoder long enough for the three of you to leave the room before uttering. “That went rather well. You have been properly paid for the service of your time, General. Perhaps being inconvenienced should not be frowned upon if the perpetrator is willing to listen to reason. Although I do suggest a different cover story. Me as an assassination droid. Can you imagine?”

 Being that you took pleasure in designing and improving upon droids, you could do just that. General Hux, on the other hand, was not interested in that sort of mental gymnastistics.

 There was a certain art in the language of silence. One had to understand mood above all else. Facial expressions, the way the body talked. For instance, the scowl that remained present on General Hux’s face informed you that he was still frustrated with having been pulled away from his work on Starkiller to play nice with the senator. The redhead clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes each time TeeArr moved so much as a millimeter out of line. This practically screamed out the man’s annoyance of the droid. Under these circumstances, you could not say that you blamed him. This behavior from TeeArr was not a glitch sadly. You had sought to create a more free-thinking protocol droid in the hopes that it could offer valuable input when the situation demanded it. The sass was not something you had realized would enter into the equation on this level.

 The assistant that had led the three of you to the room in which the meeting had taken place was now walking beside you as a sort of guide, albeit an unnecessary one, back to your transport shuttle. Your eyes dropped down towards the floor. You truly did envy her those flats. You had been aware that there would be excess walking today, and thus when General Hux had insisted that you follow proper uniform protocol, you had felt your mood souring. You were already able to feel where there were blisters forming. It was a topic that irritated you. Women having two separate uniforms depending upon the occasion. Granted, the men did as well. Their shoes were always either flats or boots. They never had to endure heels. Lucky sonsofbanthas.

 Of the triumvirate, you favored Captain Phasma at times since you had less direct contact with her. Your meetings were always brief, long enough that she could tell you exactly what her ‘troopers needed, and then you were left to your own devices.

 General Hux preferred that you be present during any trial run with newer droids. This was reasonable, you conceded; however, if it meant heels and blisters, you’d rather the man take a flying leap into the nearest trash compactor. Well, not really. He was a good boss overall.

  As for Kylo Ren, that man was far more volatile. He had not once harmed you. The same, unfortunately, could not be said for some of your droid projects. The man was sometimes patient enough to allow you to finish before using them. Other times he either forgot that you had not yet installed the shields that would prevent his lightsaber from completely destroying them, or else he was too angered to care. Another thing was that the man never once apologized when he did destroy the droids. His actions did change. He became almost hesitant around you, which always allowed you to know that, on some level, he did feel guilty.

 That never stopped you from wanting to take his lightsaber and use the hilt against the side of his head. Not that you could . But you wanted to.

 You puffed up your cheeks, blew out a steady stream of air without making much noise, and lifted your gaze so that you were watching where you were going. The docking bay was just up ahead. General Hux appeared to lengthen his strides, likely wanting to quicken your departure so that he would not have to keep face and play nice with TeeArr. Said droid pleasantly made remarks on the layout of the place. It was superior to other locations where the rooms for meetings were too close to the shuttles, which caused difficulty when one was trying to listen and also a higher percentage of permanent damage to hearing. You bobbed your head as you absently listened to the droid. In your mind, you had begun to go over what adjustments would be needed to increase the droid’s probabilities of survival. Had this mission included Kylo Ren, TeeArr would have likely been destroyed.

 The senator’s assistant bid farewell when the four of you arrived at the ramp of the shuttle. General Hux gave a curt response without turning around. You would have thought him rude, save for the fact that you, having worked closely with him off and on, knew that he likely was dealing with a forming headache. You kept your response to the assistant brief, however you were more polite than your superior. She smiled, gave a wave, and then started to walk away. TeeArr had since followed in after the redhead. You quickly hurried up the ramp, which began to rise behind you.

[breakingsomething]

the fall - part two (evil jackie's back by popular demand)

basic summary: something's wrong with jackie, and marvin's going to find out what

trigger warnings: blood and injury, being kept in captivity, violence

something was definitely wrong with jackie.

all of them had noticed it recently. jackie came home late every night, sometimes shaking, sometimes completely nonverbal, sometimes being loud and brash and talking too much about nothing at all. once, chase told marvin he had seen him come in with a streak of blood on his face and when chase had pointed it out, jackie had gotten overly defensive and yelled at him to mind his own. none of them were able to properly speak to him without jackie shutting down. it was worrying, to say the least. marvin was afraid for him.

the day it all changed was the day he found jackie having a full blown panic attack on the kitchen floor.

"hey, hey, jackie!" marvin cried, racing to his brother's side and falling down next to him, careful not to touch him in case it set him off more. jackie struggled for breath, wrapping his arms around himself and ducking his face down into his knees. "jackie, breathe for me, k? what's up? did something - are you ok, are you hurt?"

"shut up," jackie gasped, shaking but still trying to push mavin away. "shut up, i'm fucking fine, leave me alone, please leave me alone."

marvin made a noise of protest. "bro, i can't leave you alone when you're in this state, i -"

"leave me the fuck alone!" jackie suddenly screamed, and he shoved marvin back so hard he fell into the kitchen table and smacked his head off the wooden legs. when he sat up again, jackie was frantically scrubbing tears from his burning face, desperately trying to hold back sobs and trembling.

marvin didn't know what to do. he had so much he suddenly wanted to say, but didn't know how to say it.

"i'm sorry," he eventually said softly. he twisted his hands together in his lap. "didn't mean to…"

jackie just turned his head away and said nothing.

enough was enough. marvin gathered his courage and spoke. "what's… jackie, what's been up with you lately? you've been acting so strange, me, henrik and chase were wondering -"

"oh, you guys are all talking behind my back, are you?" jackie spat, and marvin was horrified by the rage in his eyes. "talking about how weird i am, you think i'm g-going insane too?"

marvin shook his head rapidly, stunned. "jackie, no!" he said disbelievingly. "who - who said you were insane?"

jackie shoved his face into his knees and didn't respond, curling into himself and trembling.

marvin leaned forwards, biting his lip. "jackie," he murmured. "you're not - you're - jackie, we love you no matter what you do. ok? you're a good guy. you do good things. and no matter what you think is wrong with you, we'll be here to help you through it. you hear me?" he thought about putting a hand on jackie's back to reassure him, but decided against it. "we love you."

jackie still said nothing, so marvin stayed with him until he was more or less ok and he mumbled an excuse about needing to go see a friend of his before leaving the house.

marvin decided to follow him.

it was a rash decision; he gave it maybe thirty seconds of thought before doing it, which was more than he gave most things he did. all he had to do was cast a spell of invisibility on himself, which was a spell he'd discovered a couple months back and had been using to prank the others around the house. marvin considered using his more recently discovered soundlessness spell, but he still wasn't sure how it worked, and it turned out he didn't need to, either. jackie didn't appear to even know anyone was following him - he was walking quickly with a pair of headphones in, weaving through the streets and alleyways without a second thought. as they got deeper into the city, passing into the less crowded part where the graffiti on walls grew more frequent and the streetlights got dimmer, marvin began to worry that it had been a mistake to do this.

he was surprised when jackie stopped at a small, empty shop, looking dirty and abandoned. he glanced around to see if anyone was watching, looking right through marvin, before unlocking the door with a key hidden inside his wristbands and pushing his way inside. marvin dashed forward just quickly enough to catch the door and slipping in, only thinking for a brief moment that this was his last chance to back out before the door closed and jackie relocked it with a loud click. well, marvin was stuck in this now.

the shop looked very normal, shelves lining the walls and running through the centre of the room - the only odd thing was that they were completely empty, and everything was covered in a fine layer of dust and grime. marvin didn't get a lot of time to look around however, as jackie made an immediate beeline for the back of the shop and darted round the cash register to open a door that marvin hadn't even seen. marvin quickly went after him, the door almost closing on his ponytail before he could pull it through and gape at his new surroundings.

he was in a white hallway. a very long white hallway, like something he'd see in a science laboratory in a film, no windows or doors in sight except the big silver door at the end. marvin watched, open mouthed, as jackie punched in a code and went through, revealing - another hallway. what had jackie been doing in his spare time?

three more doors they went through, before they got to one that was seemingly bigger than the rest. the door was surrounded by weird science-y looking gadgets, which jackie used to scan his hand and type in several more things, most likely passwords of some sort. marvin tried to keep note of them in his mind, but there was so many numbers and letters that he couldn't keep track of. at this point, he was fucking terrified. part of him wished he could turn back and run back home to henrik and chase, just so he wouldn't have to see whatever jackie had been hiding from them.

when the door finally opened, marvin hesitated before following his brother inside. so much security for one sketchy place hidden underneath an abandoned store, and with the way jackie had been acting lately - marvin didn't want to think. didn't want to know. honestly, he hoped it was maybe some kind of weird secret hideout that he was keeping secret for some reason. maybe. maybe that was why he came here so often lately. marvin squeezed his eyes tightly shut as he went in, not wanting to face whatever it was he was going to see.

he regretted looking as soon as he did it.

a small room. no furniture. no windows. just a single light above the door and a man, a man who looked like he'd seen death and who was glaring up at jackie defiantly as soon as he came in. his face was bloody, plasters covering his mouth and greasy brown hair falling into his face. he was wearing a bloodstained grey t-shirt and ripped jeans, his arms handcuffed behind his back to a black pole on the wall. he had a bruise over one of his brown eyes, which glittered even in the dim lighting.

anti. anti. it was anti. anti who had stabbed marvin, anti who had kidnapped henrik, anti who had stolen chase's kids away. anti who had been jack's. anti who had ran away. it was anti. anti.

marvin was going to throw up.

without a word, jackie slung his bag off his back and tossed it to the floor, getting down and rooting through it for something. marvin could see and hear how heavily anti was breathing, making sharp whistling sounds and his chest rose and fell. fuck, it was really him. marvin stared at him and tried to swallow back the bile that was rising in his throat.

"here," jackie mumbled, and tossed something towards anti, causing him to flinch back, glitching in place. it was a sandwich, wrapped in clingfilm. next came a bottle of water with the label removed. anti blinked, and jackie stood again and made for the door.

anti whistled weakly, getting jackie to turn back round. "what?" then he noticed anti nodding towards his hands, making displeased sounds in his throat. jackie smirked. "oh, you need some help there, anti?"

he crouched down next to anti and snorted, pulling a knife from his back pocket and tapping it on anti's shoulder. "do you want me to take off the handcuffs so you can eat your food?"

marvin's heart raced. fuck, fuck, this couldn't be happening. this couldn't be his brother, his big brother couldn't be the one doing this. this had to be some kind of trick, some kind of fucking nightmare.

his brother was a kind man. a hero. he saved people, he hugged his brothers and brought them food when they were upset, he brought home treats and shared silly stories. he lifted chase's kids onto his back and ran around the garden with them so they could pretend they were flying. he cared. he loved. he didn't tie people up and hold them in a tiny, dark, locked room and beat them half to death - which, by the looks of anti, was definitely what must have happened. no, no. this couldn't be right. couldn't be real.

marvin jumped when he realized anti was staring right at him, eyes wide. he stepped to the side, gasping softly when anti's eyes followed him. he could see him somehow. how could anti see him?

jackie watched anti, then suddenly whipped round. marvin froze, his blood running cold. his only thought was that his spell had worn off and jackie could see him, could see he'd followed him here and seen what he'd done. he didn't dare to breathe, his head spinning with sickening fear.

"what were you looking at?" jackie demanded, whirling back round to anti. his face was red with rage, and in that moment, marvin didn't recognize his own brother. "what the fuck is the problem?"

anti raised an eyebrow, amusement sparkling in his eyes despite the whole situation. he still said nothing, and jackie let out a frustrated roar of anger. "you pathetic little fucking bitch, don't you dare try and mess with me!" he suddenly grabbed anti's face, and marvin had to clamp both hands over his mouth to keep himself from screaming. "you forget who's the one holding the knife now!"

he picked up his bag and stormed over to the door, his hand lighting up as he opened it. he left without another word, not even looking back.

this time, marvin didn't follow him.

instead, he slowly made his way over to where anti was sat, sinking to his knees next to him. "fuck, fuck," he almost sobbed, feeling tears prick his eyes as he saw just how bad anti had been injured. anti just rolled his eyes, making a face despite his many wounds and bandages.

marvin let down his invisibility spell and leaned in closer to anti, examining his injuries. "jesus shit, what - what happened?" he managed, feeling lightheaded. anti said nothing, just kept staring at marvin's face without a word.

marvin didn't know what to do.

this was anti. anti who had hurt henrik, who'd hurt chase, who'd hurt jamie. anti who had put their creator in a coma. jackie had to be keeping him here for a valid reason, he had to, he had to. marvin refused to consider any other option.

"mm, mm," anti tried, shaking his head. marvin bit his lip, attempting to blink the tears away. he couldn't be breaking down now. he had to keep it together. but it had suddenly hit marvin that this was really real, that he was here and so was anti, and that he had to make a decision.

gently, marvin touched the plasters on anti's mouth, noticing how he winced with pain despite barely being touched. "do you want me to take these off?" he asked softly, and anti shook his head rapidly, slamming his head back into the wall in an effort to get away. marvin held both his hands up beside his head. "ok, ok!" what had happened to anti to make him like this?

he reached behind anti to look at the handcuffs binding him to the wall. he also had a heavy chain wrapped round his neck that linked to the pipe as well. "fosgailte," he murmured, and the chains fell off, leaving anti to gasp for breath. more tears pricked marvin's eyes, and he paused to breathe too, wondering with anxious fear what he was going to do next.

anti kept staring at him, brown eyes boring into marvin. his right eye twitched, his whole body shaking slightly. he couldn't seem to stay entirely still. marvin stared back, balling his hands into fists and biting his lip.

"i don't know what to do," he said aloud. anti barely reacted, not even blinking. "shit, shit, this isn't right."

anti suddenly shuddered, groaning as his head fell to his chest. marvin's eyes fell to the food and water still on the floor, and with a jolt he remembered that he'd seen jackie making that same sandwich just this morning, before jackie's panic attack. they'd been laughing about some stupid news story about a dumb politician. marvin nearly threw up there and then, wondering dizzily how many other times something had happened right in front of him that he hadn't noticed.

"what - do - i'll -" marvin took a breath and tried again, making a noise of frustration. "ok, fuck. i'll take one of your hands out so you can eat, ok?"

because no matter what the reason was for keeping anti here, the way he was being treated definitely wasn't right.

he looked up at anti for confirmation. he stayed silent, but after a moment gave the tiniest of nods.

marvin wasn't a particularly soft man. he didn't fawn over babies or cute animals like chase and jackie did, and he didn't feel empathy the same way henrik did. but seeing the way anti immediately grabbed the sandwich as soon as one of his hands was released, undoing the clingfilm and facing away to undo the plasters on his mouth and eat, marvin felt a sudden rush of… something. something powerful burning in his chest. he wasn't sure if it was good or not. all he knew was that this wasn't right, that jackie wasn't right, that something must have gone wrong somewhere for his day to have gone from joking over the news to sitting in front of the man who'd kidnapped children and killed people, helping him eat for what could have been the first time in god knows how long. it was all he could do not to scream.

after he'd eaten, anti turned back round, the plasters reapplied. he didn't say anything at first. then he touched his fingertips to his chin and moved them outwards. "thank you."

marvin's breathing quickened. "why - why are you signing?" he said uncertainly, swallowing hard. "why can't you talk? why do you keep those plasters over your - talk to me, goddamnit!"

anti rolled his eyes again. "can't speak," he signed. "don't ask. red is keeping me here."

marvin suddenly stood, stepping back. "stop, stop," he gasped, clutching his head. "please, just talk to me, i know you can talk! what's happened to you, why are you here, what did you do? why is jackie - jackie would never - jackie would never -"

he sobbed, digging his nails into his skin as he covered his face and sank down against the door across from anti. "i don't understand, i don't know what to do."

anti tapped the floor, getting marvin to glance up. he was making the same two signs over and over again, staring at marvin deliberately. marvin knew what the signs meant, of course he did. he shook his head, biting the side of his hand to keep from screaming.

"no," he said firmly. "no, no, no, no, i can't do that, please, shut up. shut up, shut up. i don't understand, i don't know what to do."

"kill me," anti insisted. "red will be back tomorrow. i don't want to be here for that."

"i don't know why you're here!" marvin cried. he shook his hands wildly, panic rising even more. "jackie would - you probably fucking deserve to be here, given what you've done! i can't let you go, i can't do anything, not after what you did to my brothers!"

there was a pause. then anti let out a sharp breath through his nose. "is -- ok?"

marvin blinked tears away. "i - i didn't catch that second word."

anti made a noise. "d-a-p-p-e-r," he signed. "is he ok?"

marvin let his head hit the wall. "i don't have to tell you anything."

"please," anti said. the sign was very similar to thank you, marvin noted dimly. he'd never heard anti speak either word. "i have to know."

marvin scrambled up, grabbing at the door. he needed to get out, needed to get away from all this. it was too much to handle at once and he was literally going to have a full blown meltdown if he didn't get as far away from here as possible immediately.

"hmm, hmm!" anti vocalized, hitting the wall to get marvin's attention. marvin sobbed and blocked him out. jackie had used his light magic to get out, but marvin didn't have that. instead, he whispered his unlocking spell again, which miraculously worked, and darted into the hall. he turned back once to see anti, whose eyes were wide, shaking his head and hitting the wall behind him.

"i'm sorry!" marvin said desperately, already stepping back. "i'm sorry, i'll come back, i'm sorry!"

he slammed the door shut and didn't turn back.

[swellwriting]

death and other drugs - part one

The Destiny of James Potter

A/N: Okay so a long time ago I saw a post about a grim reaper au for 5sos, back in those fandom days and I have never been able to get it out of my head so I’m finally writing a fic that is heavily inspired by my memory of that post, though I can not find it, just know some other human has inspired me to write this, somewhere out there…also Harry doesn't exist cuz idk what I’d do with him in this story. This is modernized sort of, and it deters from canon obviously, I make my own rules for the afterlife. Reader will be in the next part!

The Marauders x Reader / Grim Reaper Au.  Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: violence, death, drugs, mature themes. Mentions of drug use but I am Canadian so weed is super legal here fyi.

Destiny is a funny thing, some people believe in it, some don’t. If you asked James Potter a few days ago what his destiny was he would probably tell you something super mushy about Lily like his destiny was to find her and marry her and build a family with her, but things change and no one controls their own destiny.

The door to their small home in Godric’s Hollow is broken down with a silent bang that shakes the floor under his feet, Lily rushes upstairs to hide and James is determined to keep his wife safe. A green flash of light fills the small home and James Potter’s eyes roll into the back of his head as he hits the ground and everything goes black. He didn’t even stand a chance.

His head becomes an empty void of nothingness for what seems like forever and simultaneously no time at all.

Until he feels his soul leave his body, he feels light, he opens his eyes and he feels hollow and barely there, his feet planted on the ground but he feels as if he could fall through the ground. He holds up a hand and looks at his palm, his skin looks faded and he can see through his skin.

“James Potter, your destiny has arrived.”

“Destiny... what? Where am I? Wheres Lily?” The questions fall out of his mouth in a mess of words and worry.

“None of that matters, it’s time to face your destiny.”

A cloaked figure appears before him in the never-ending white room he appears to be in. It’s faceless and holds a scythe, almost the same appearance as the dementors from Azkaban. But he didn’t commit a crime?

“The title is being passed, it is going to you, it is your destiny to guide the dead to the afterlife.”

“Woah wait, I don't accept, I don't want that job,” he stutters in disbelief before deferring to humour not knowing how to handle this information, “that sounds like a shit gig mate, no offence. I never sold my soul or anything why me?”

“A greater force has decided.”

“A greater force? No way, this is all some stupid dream, I’m gonna wake up and Lily is gonna be okay and she will be beside me in bed and everything will be fine.” James takes a deep breath as he closes his eyes.

“It is not an option and even if it was you can never go back to that life, you are dead. Your wife is dead.”

“What?” James’ heart drops, it was inevitable that Voldemort would kill her after him, she wouldn't be able to stop Voldemort, “where is she?” James turns and looks behind him as tears fill his eyes, panic fils his voice and his heart feels like a million pounds in his chest.

“She’s already gone,” The figure, this personification of death pulls out what looks like an enchanted short scroll. “Lily Potter, witch, angel, was taken to heaven by angels two minutes ago-”

James gulps, at least she was going to heaven, at least she wasn’t in a situation like this.

“I thought it was your job to bring people to the afterlife.”

“Not my job, it’s your job now. And only some people, it’s a shared job. Angels handle heaven and demons handle hell, I do both, or you do now.” 

“Great!” James yells sarcastically, he can’t even properly mourn his wife because he’s found himself in such a weird fucked up situation he doesn't even know how to react to any of it.

The figure hands James a key and he reluctantly takes it, the figure fades away and suddenly James finds himself alone in a dark room. It’s large, there are windows but no light comes in through them, it’s very empty with basic furniture and a letter and an old-looking suitcase on the bed.

He slowly turns and looks around before grabbing the letter which reads.

~

Congratulations you are the new “Grim Reaper”!

Your position will last until a new replacement is chosen, anywhere from 100 to 100,000 years is the usual duration. 

You are currently standing in your new home/ office/ living space. Though you are not really living, you are the personification of death and this place is called the in-between. You can travel to the living world, heaven (only the gates) or to hell using the scythe placed under the bed.

The scroll inside the suitcase will tell you when your next job is, who they are, where to bring them. You won’t receive a new job until one is completed. You can also use it to see lists of the recently deceased, all older inquires can be handled at the main office.

You will also find your uniform inside the case, it is a requirement to be worn when guiding the dead. The scythe can be used as a weapon to defend yourself from the living, the dead and the various things you may encounter in between.

In this current state, you still have your magic abilities you had during life and can use them however you see fit.

For any questions or inquiries please call our main office at 1-800-666-DEAD, or email me lanaafterlifehq@dead.com , ask for Lana!

Sincerely, Afterlife HeadQuarters,

- Lana Lynch, secretary.

~

“This is fucked,” James says aloud to himself, he took out the black cloak and holds it out. He lets the material fall to the floor before pushing the case and letter onto the floor and off the bed, lying down and bringing his knees to his chest, hiding his face in his palms and crying himself to sleep.

Not only had he been murdered by an evil dark wizard, but he was now given the task of being the Grim fucking Reaper, not to mention his wife was also killed and he didn’t know if he could ever see her again.

He wondered if he would have been sent to heaven or hell if this problem hadn’t gotten in the way. If he’d be an angel with Lily if they could have spent eternity together. Was Heaven nice? Was Lily happy and at peace or was she frantically looking for James just to find out he’s not even there? And he won’t be coming any time soon.

-

The apartment in the in-between had grey painted walls, it was the size of a large apartment, it had a small kitchen with smooth tiles, a bathroom and a living area with a large grey bed with black pillows. The decor really was ridiculous, was the grim reaper allowed to have things with colour?

James wakes up and takes a few minutes to open his eyes not wanting to accept reality when he opens them he sees the awful gloomy place, the empty side of the bed and lack of warmth beside him, none of Lily’s wild red hair tickling his face as he pulls her close.

He takes a deep breath and gets himself out of bed, he pushes his messy curls out of his face and cleans his glasses with his sweater. Figures even as the grim reaper he needs these damn things. He grabs the scroll and prepares himself to read the first name, might as well get started, there wasn’t anything else in this apartment to distract him. The scroll was a brown faded short piece of paper rolled into a silver metal tube, he popped off the lid and unrolled the paper.

= Sirius Black, Wizard, destination undetermined, to be decided upon soul retrieval. =

As if things couldn’t get any worse, James’ best friend, Sirius Black was dead. Great. James’ first job as the fucking Grim Reaper was to bring his best friend to the afterlife, even better he got to choose his friend’s fate. He didn’t know that could be part of the job, deciding whether someone got to go to heaven, this sucks.

The tears fell quickly, James was just so tired, he just wanted this nightmare to be over. He was so emotionally drained yet his body still found a way to produce new tears as he fell to his knees and screamed into a pillow.

He doesn't want to put that stupid cloak on, he doesn't want to do this but a thought crosses his mind. Sirius is already dead, from whichever means killed him, probably Voldemort, and he was just in this state of nothingness just stuck waiting for James. With that thought he quickly throws the cloak over his jumper and jeans and old scuffed up converse, he pulls the long hood over his curls and the shadow of the hood hides his face perfectly making him appear like more of an evil shadow than a person.

He leans down and pulls the scythe from under the bed gripping it tightly in his hand. He figures it works somewhat like a wand, with nonverbal magic. He holds it close and wills himself to be transported to wherever Sirius is.

There’s a quick flash of darkness before James finds himself hitting the ground outside a building, his knees ache as he hits the ground and struggles to stand up and fix his cloak.

Sirius’ body is on the ground, he was killed by the killing curse, James can just tell. He must have been doing an order mission. None of his other friends appear to be nearby which makes James feel a tiny bit better.

Sirius isn’t moving so James pokes his foot with the scythe which makes Sirius’ soul leave his body and form his ghost form, hovering over the dead body.

Sirius opens his eyes and looks around, shock evident on his face, trying to accept the fact that he just died.

“Bloody hell,” is all he mumbles.

“Are those your last words?” James asks as he pulls his hood down awkwardly.

“James...mate! What the fuck is going on.”

“You died,” James says awkwardly pointing to Sirius’ dead body

“Yeah, and you and Lily died yesterday, what is going on…”

“I'm the new grim reaper,” James states as calmly as he can and Sirius can’t help but burst into laughter, he doubles over as tears stream out of the corners of his eyes.

“The Grim Reaper!” another burst of laughter.

“Sirius this is ...serious! You died and now I have to bring you to one of the afterlife’s, you’re dead, Lily is dead and she’s an angel and I don't get to be an angel or demon or whatever this is a serious problem Sirus I’m so screwed.”

“Wait do I get to go to heaven?”

“It said undecided, it’s up to me.”

“Well then just don’t kill me mate! Easy.”

“I didn’t kill you!” James yells defensively, “but I can’t just not bring you somewhere, where will you go if I don't? I can’t bring you back to life.”

“I’ll just hang out with you, we can be inseparable just like in real life,” Sirius states so calmly, so certain that this is what he wants for eternity. The words make James break, the tears fall easily as he grabs Sirius in a tight hug and is surprised to actually be able to hold his friend and not have his arms go right through him.

Sirius isn’t as emotional, but he hugs James back and smiles to himself knowing he would follow James anywhere, even in death.

“There’s no afterlife without my best mate!”

James takes a moment to calm himself down as he works things out in his head.

“Okay I’ll just never complete this job and they won’t be able to give me a new one!” James says as he calms his breathing and rolls the scroll up sending it back to his apartment.

“So who will bring all the dead people to the afterlife then?” Sirius asks.

“I don't know I guess the angels and the demons will handle it.” James shrugs not caring about his lack of responsibility.

“They are gonna have their hands full with voldy going around, he’s killed three of us in less than two days already-”

With that realization, both young men look at each other in shock and speak in unison.

“Remus!”

James grabs Sirius’ hand and then holds the scythe, hoping it will bring them to Remus but it doesn’t budge.

“Wait, hold on to this,” James mumbles as he passes Sirius the scythe. James lifts up his cloak and Sirius bursts into laughter yet again.

‘You’re wearing normal clothes under that!”

“Well did you expect me to be naked?” James defends his wardrobe.

“No, I just thought the big bad death guy’s uniform would be more than a black bed sheet with a hood.”

“Shut up,” James mutters as he grabs his wand from his back pocket, he grabs Sirius’ hand and apparates them both to Remus’ small apartment.

-

Apparently it had been a few hours since Sirius had died, Remus had already heard the news that his other friend had died, he broke two plates in his kitchen, failed to be able to eat any food, made a mess of his apartment and hid himself in his bedroom to wallow in sadness and mourn his dead friends. Oh and to get high enough that everything feels numb and nothing feels real so he can pretend his friends aren't dead and he isn’t actually all alone!

His bedroom door is closed, the coloured light from his lava lamp and led lights reflect on the walls and a mix of smoke and incense fill the air making his room one big faded rainbow cloud. 

Remus is sat on his bed hunched over with tears dried to his reddened cheeks, his hair is a mess. He was going to put on a record an hour ago but the one he grabbed he realized had belonged to Sirius and he forgot to give it back so he’s been sat for an hour just starring at it completely zoned out.

“Hey, that’s my fucking record!” Sirius says before even thinking of a proper thing to say to their very much alive friend.

Remus screams at the top of his lungs and throws the record into the air, Sirius catches it.

Remus realizes his dead friend is stood in front of him, holding the object he just had in his hands, his other best friend who was also dead as of yesterday is there in a weird black cloak and holding a giant scythe.

“Fuck this,” Remus mumbles and then lies down in his bead and turns to face the wall, pulling his blanket over his head wanting to just sleep off this bad high.

“Could he see us?” Sirius asks James.

“He’s not supposed to be able to, how strong is that shit he’s smoking?” James says in disbelief.

“Remus!” Sirius yells and watches as Remus brings his palms flat against his ears trying not to hear what he thinks is just a figment of his imagination.

“It’s not real, your friends are dead, it’s not real it’s not real it’s just a bad high a bad high,” he mumbles, a few tears trickle down his face as his hands start to shake.

Sirius and James sit on the bed and gently shake him pulling him to face them again. Remus’ eyes are wide and he looks horrified.

“This isn’t real you are both dead!” Remus is crying as he yells at the figures in front of him.

“This is real and yes, we are both dead...sort of”

“No, if you’re dead you wouldn't be here this isn’t real, I smoked some bad shit, it was laced, must have been I got it from Peter, never take weed from Peter!” Remus shakes his head and hides behind his hands, wiping his scared tears away with the long sleeves of his jumper.

“Remus I’m dead why didn’t you just go take my weed, it’s not like I need it,” Sirius states so matter of factly as if that’s something a normal person would do.

“Are you asking me why I didn’t steal a dead man’s drugs? Oh, I don't know I was a little busy crying over your death to think about stealing your things!” Remus yells, offended and feeling a bit crazy.

“I'm TALKING TO MYSELF!” He yells and then gets up abruptly, pushing the blankets off and going to stand up before being stopped by the presence of his two friends, knocking himself over.

He reaches out a hand and places it flat on James’ face, smudging fingerprint on his glasses. And then gasping as he pulls his hand away.

“We’re real Moony, I promise,” James confirms.

“Okay, you better tell me what the fuck is going on and make it make sense quick or I might bash my head in what the flower pot.”

“Do it!” Sirius yells.

“No merlin, no don't kill yourself for fuck’s sake, Sirius.” James rushes to correct his dumb friend.

“Then he could be one of us?” Sirius asks confused.

“No, then either an angel or a demon would appear to take his soul and he’d be gone.”

“I said make it make sense!” Remus complains, and Sirus and James proceed to sit him down and explain everything they know to him.

-

The trio made their way to the living room, sitting on the chairs and couch in Remus’ apartment.

“So James is the new Grim Reaper, and Sirius got killed and you are just avoiding taking him to the afterlife for as long as you can.”

“For forever!” Sirius clarifies.

“Okay, so what happens when these, angels and demons notice you aren't doing your job at all?”

“They won’t? And if they do I'm the Grim fucking Reaper, I’m their boss!”

“Are you sure about any of this?” Remus asks and both Sirius and James speak in unison.

“We aren't sure about anything!”

Remus rolls his eyes and plants his face in his palms.

“Remus don't worry about it too much, you are still alive and you just get to hang out with us all the time!” Siriustries to make this sound normal.

“I'm too high to deal with any of this right now, wait why can I see you if you are both dead?”

“We have no idea!” Sirius says with a big dumb smile.

“Great, a lot of information you guys have here.”

“All the information you need is the phone number for the pizza place across the street,” Sirius says as he relaxes back into his seat.

“You’re dead do you really need pizza?”

“I'm like half-dead Moony, please be more sensitive to my condition.”

“Fine, I’ll go get pizza, put the Jurassic park DVD on and roll these.” Remus orders as he tosses Sirius the DVD boxset and hands James his grinder and a pack of papers. 

Not much had changed for the boys now that two of them were dead, the way they spent their night wasn’t any different from any of their previous hangouts, and that was the beauty of it, enjoying the little things, like pepperoni pizza and classic dinosaur movies. Maybe this would work.

[tillman]

Hi, it's Valentine, back with another essay on Lancelot again. I’m deranged and you all have to accept this. Anyways this ones been a long time coming mostly because i'm lazy and only now had some free time to sit down and delve into so many sources to find quotes and proof for the main claim of this post: Mr Lancelot du Lac is an autistic man. Hes also trans and gay and i have proof for both of those (one is literally not even subtext) but those are for different essays. 

Anyways to start off with some smaller bits I wanna at least mention the history connecting autistic people with changelings or fae. The idea of a normal seeming child being “replaced” by something not entirely human to explain neurological differences has been around for a while and can tie in with a lot of autistic people's feelings of being different or completely disconnected from those around them. Thematically all of this ties in with Lancelot’s narrative of being “stolen away” by a fae as a child and coming back different. He grew up in a realm of fairies, and Chrétien de Troyes in Knight of the Cart, which may be the first story about Lancelot, simply calls his mother who in later texts grows to be the Lady of the Lake, “a fairy.” Another smaller point is Lancelot tends to go nonverbal when he gets extremely upset which is neat! One bit i can’t get a quote for (vulgate pdf when) is after Galehaut’s death, he locks up completely and his mother, the Lady, who is wonderful and perfect, explains the situation for him. You could also look at all the times Lancelot runs off into the woods and refuses to speak for a while for more proof of that. He does this a lot. It's just a thing people expect from him.

Anyways, I wanna talk about Lancelot’s inability to comprehend emotions or communication in general. Please, I've been dying to talk about Lancelot’s issues with communication for days. God he has them and I can relate so hard. Covering the dutch prose first just look at the story of the hart with the white foot. A lady comes to court talking about how whatever knight will get the foot of his hart will get her hand in marriage. Lancelot actually ends up missing the lady speak about what will happen, and after hearing Kay fail to do it, declares hell go after this hart instead. "When he heard this account / he spoke impetuously: / "By my faith, I fully intend / to follow this little dog.” He doesn’t think it though, he doesn't really know what he's getting into, Lancelot is just a yes man who likes doing knightly deeds. He has to in the end be rescued twice by Gawain, one from his fucking up while hunting the hart, and the other by accidently leading a lady on thinking that he’ll marry her, something Gawain negotiates Lancelot out of. Moving onto not the dutch prose since i just spent 3 hours reading up on it, let's move onto le morte.

Malory pulls a lot from the french sources, and i'll talk about what he left out in a sec cus . god. But I mostly want to touch on his relationship with two of the people he’s closest to, those being Guenevere and Gawain. Guenevere is a very weird case considering her literal emotional manipulation of him in moments he is very vulnerable and just how not great she is to him in general but his take on their relationship is honestly pretty easy to pin down. Lancelot honestly idolizes Guenevere, as his queen, as his lady, as a person who showed him basic respect when he first came to court. He has the mindset that a knight should love and do anything for his lady, and after Guenevere knights him really without any thought to what she was doing, he decided he would do anything for her. The vulgate does a better job dealing with their relationship through the mediator figure of Galehaut who is a whole other bag of worms, but Guenevere mostly indulges him for the fun of it. She sees that he’s a young knight who’s willing to die for her and uses this to her advantage politically and for other reasons. This constantly goes over Lancelot's head, until towards the end of le morte where he finally realizes how much he suffers for this relationship while she doesn't even care, “This is not the first time, said Sir Launcelot, that ye had been displeased with me causeless, but, madam, ever I must suffer you, but what sorrow I endure I take no force.” He resigns himself to put up with a relationship he admits is actively hurting him because he believes it’s love, and as a good knight, he should love his lady. His relationship with Gawain is less dicey, and more him constantly not getting Gawain’s implications. He admits to his love of Gawain only during their war saying in the vulgate, “But he will never be able to hate me so much that I stop loving him." Like. bold of him to just ignore all of Gawains previous advances until theyre in a life or death war. Bro accept your homoerotic rivals and move on already. 

Another casualty from Lancelot not realizing emotional connotations until too late is Galehaut, who literally dies of longing over the knight. Like Elaine of Astolat but worse because Galehauts just genuinely one of the best people in Arthurian literature. He doesn’t realize until too late that the person who actually loves him is the one willing to do anything for him, and ends up almost killing himself over Galehauts death. I have too much to say on that and it's not relevant to anything in this essay but god know i yearn over them all the time. 

Other thing is Lancelot has a lot of struggle with mental health anyways,  he really just truly is traumatized and that’s kinda fucked. He has a lot of problems with depression and poor coping mechanisms. I mean his main coping mechanism is falling asleep instead of dealing with the issues. That's not completely on topic but it's a big mood and ties in vaguely and also i don't have any other way to end this. There are way more bits to add but i am falling asleep at my desk and need to get lunch before it gets too late. Anyways this is probably not great i wrote this in 4 hours directly after waking up at 12 and spent 2 of those hours reading literary essays on the dutch romances. GOOD NIGHT . 

[in-tua-deep]

I saw your other ask and I do wonder if an actual 13 yr old Five will pop up after they stop the apocalypse. It’s so interesting to have both Fives in the same place! And to see the stark contrast between what he was without the apocalypse. How does his older self feel (and does he still look 13 too?!). And how do his siblings react realizing how much the apocalypse and the Commission took from their brother! I love this idea and your blog!!

okay a solid half of me is like “wow there’s so much potential for angst and having Five confront the fact that he lowkey hates himself and what he’s become alone with feeling redundant alongside a younger version of himself that does match up to what his siblings remember instead of being the broken old assassin he actually is”

and the other half is like “but also consider the CHAOTIC GOOD TIMES” and at heart I’m a not so secret softie so that is the louder side at the moment

SO they stop the apocalypse. They’re all trying to figure out what happens now. Five is home alone (Allison flew home for a week to see Claire/figure out her situation, Vanya is at her apartment packing some things up to move back into the mansion for a while, Diego took Grace out shopping, Luther and Klaus went to grab groceries and are probably going to come back with so much sugar because Luther is still being a pushover trying to make up for his whole ‘locked Vanya away’ debacle) 

Five is sitting on the front steps of the house (it’s too empty and too quiet inside and he may or may not be coming down from a panic attack) and that’s when there’s a blue flash down the street and Five freezes. Because down the street there’s a boy turning with a puzzled look and they both catch one another’s eye and it’s like looking in a mirror because they’re the same person

So of course they go inside to figure out what the fuck and Five has no patience left for baby Five and pretty much gives it to him straight: he time traveled to April 3rd, 2019, where there was supposed to be an apocalypse. They may or may not fight when baby Five doesn’t believe him and he is convinced when Five beats him easy - thank you assassin training. There’s an hour more of incredulity and explanations as they both loudly theorize about the potential world breaking-ness of them both existing in a paradox

but hey it doesn’t seem like the world is ending and they already touched each other during the fight and nothing weird happened so,, they just both exist?

They’re sitting there quietly contemplating what next and waiting for the others to come back when baby Five, with his wonderful childish sense of mischief, looks at Five and asks a simple question: “Hey, how long do you think it would take for the others to realize there’s two of us?”

(they already had the breakdown where baby Five tried to go back in time and failed and Five smacked him because he worked really damn hard for this version of reality to exist thank you and basically informs baby Five that if he goes back the world could literally end and that’s kind of that. baby five is stuck.)

and look,,, Five is a grumpy old man assassin but he never did lose his sense of mischief - though it’s been somewhat buried over the years and especially so the last week or so. So he may or may not perk up at the suggestion with intrigue, and baby Five knows himself and knows that means he’s in so - 

(Baby Five kind of feels guilty for being a little relieved he doesn’t have to go back in time actually. He wants his siblings desperately, but Reginald is dead here. No more training. No more private lessons. Freedom. And - and technically his siblings are right here, right? They’re free as well? If he jumped back in time wouldn’t that be putting them all back under Reginald’s thumb? He isn’t sure if he could do that to them... but is that just a justification to himself?)

and cue the absolute shenanigans that exist as Five and baby Five pretend that there is only one (1) of them in this timeline. 

also cue some very confused siblings because there are some serious differences between the two Five’s.

Vanya is confused when she offers ‘Five’ some coffee and he wrinkles his nose and declines like he thinks coffee is gross. Which can’t be right, right? She literally saw Five chugging coffee straight from the pot yesterday?

Luther wonders if there’s something off with Five when he doesn’t seem to remember the conversation they had earlier about going to the local history museum with the rest of the family. He seemed excited earlier but now just looks put out?

(”We can’t both go to the history museum!” Five hisses at baby Five, who is rolling his eyes.

“Dude, you’re practically a dinosaur why would you even want to go to a history museum?” Baby Five points out, “Didn’t you see enough history with your little assassin job?”

Five scowls, “Maybe I just think it’s interesting considering my ‘little assassin job’ you sanctimonious child. Maybe I like museums.”

“You’re so transparent! You just want to spend time with our family.” Baby Five teases, fully aware that he’s probably going to have to dodge a knife in a second but continuing to push buttons anyway. It’s what he does. “Or - if it’s really just about all the wonderful history then we can always go again without the rest of the family.”

Five scowls as baby Five bats his eyelashes but doesn’t say anything, which means baby Five totally won the conversation, ha!)

the brilliant thing is that thanks to Five’s powers, no one thinks anything of it when they see Five downstairs and then head upstairs and see him doing something up there so even though a lot of the siblings get suspicious they probably attribute anything really off to Five’s glaring PTSD and trauma

the first one to catch on is Klaus. Well. Not really. Actually Ben is the first one to realize that he’s seeing double and tells Klaus

(”Well well well.” Klaus interrupts, making both boys on the bed jump where they had their heads bent over some mathematical textbook. Klaus is going full drama, draping himself in the open doorway like he’s a bad movie villain. “It looks like someone has been keeping secrets from your darling family.”

“Don’t tell the others!” One of them blurts, while at the same time the other growls out, “Tell the others and I kill you.”

Klaus claps his hands together, absolutely delighted. “So you aren’t the same person! Well, go on, introduce me. Is this your slightly less evil twin?”

They both exchange glances. There’s an short nonverbal conversation consisting of vague gestures and shrugs before one Five rolls his eyes and turns away, clearly done with this whole situation. The remaining Five smiles brightly and waves, “Hey Klaus! Long time no see, almost seventeen years now right?”

There’s a second of processing before Klaus gets it - or maybe Ben gets it and relays the information it’s unclear - and his hands fly to his face as he gasps loudly. “You’re a baby! A child! Under our rooftop!”

“I’m thirteen.” Baby Five protests while Five snickers under his breath. Age is a point of contention between the duo.

“What which one of you did I offer alcohol to the other day?” Klaus demands.

Baby Five raises his hand.

“I knew there was something off about you saying no to booze!” Klaus declared, pointing dramatically. Then he blinked. “Wait I offered alcohol to a minor!”

“You’re such a hypocrite.” Baby Five rolls his eyes again, “Like a week before I came here I had to half carry you to your room you were so wasted and you were thirteen.”

“He has a point.” Klaus muses to the air, probably commenting to Ben. “But I’m still not seeing a way that you two aren’t gonna get your butts totally whupped by the others when they find out about this little charade.” He says charade with a fancy french accent that hopelessly mangles the word.

The two share a look again, and again it’s baby Five who takes the lead. It may or may not be that he’s the better of the two with people considering he didn’t spend forty some years in isolation. 

He grins at Klaus with bright eyes, “Aw, c’mon Klaus. It’s just a game! Besides, isn’t it more fun to be in on it?”

“Hmm.” Klaus hums, making a show of thinking it over. All three of them know exactly what the outcome is going to be, though.

“Please Klaus!” Baby Five demands, still grinning, and he suddenly looks so young and unburdened that there isn’t even a question about whether Klaus is going to be in on it or not.)

It’s not that the two don’t fight. They do. Because Five doesn’t understand how he could ever be so naive and reckless and impulsive (even though he really should expect it considering he jumped through time in the first place) and Five doesn’t understand how he got so grouchy and old and weird about so many things

but they usually solve it by shoving it down and getting along through bribery basically

(”...want to learn how to use a sniper rifle?” Five offers into the tense silence.

There’s a solid pause where baby Five is clearly mulling that over before he finally turns in the chair to face his twin. “...Griddy’s on the way home?”

“Deal.”)

It takes an alarmingly long time for the ruse to fall apart, and it 100% happens because both Five’s show up at the same time due to a miscommunication where they immediately devolve into a yelling match about how it was totally their turn downstairs and the other is an idiot and they’re literally spatial jumping after one another around the room before Diego throws two knives and manages to pin both of the arms of their uniforms to the wall and make both stop

“What the fuck is this?” Diego demands, gesturing between the two Five’s wildly. 

“It’s his fault!” Both Five’s point at the other

but the ruse is up and the duo are able to hop down whenever they like and torment the family. 

This au is full of healing and baby Five teaching old Five how to be a kid again and more of less rubbing off on Five and dragging him into games and appealing to his sense of mischief and drama and also making the rest of the family go to like,, the zoo or laser tag or a water park

baby Five is still holding out for disney world, personally

and they are a ferocious team up,, like literal terror twins they are fully capable of terrifying the pants off of the rest of the family and then turning around and laughing and looking innocent enough that it was difficult to say no because they’re kids and are fully capable of bringing out the rest of the family’s protective instincts

even if they know intellectually that one of that duo is an assassin who could kill them in the same breath it took to tell them what idiots they were being because he could protect himself

I dunno I just want actual kid!Five dragging grumpy old man!Five into shenanigans that Five complains about but secretly likes going along with them because lets be real who doesn’t like doing impulsive childish shit from time to time and he has an excuse because he has to stop baby Five from getting himself killed, right?

after all, as Five will defend himself, he isn’t sure if his younger self’s untimely death will also kill him, right? As a future version? Kind of like the whole “you can’t kill your grandmother” argument or whatever, right? Time is weird shush

(even though they’re both pretty sure that old Five is actually from an alternate dimension vs. time travel and that this is actually baby Five’s universe, but their worlds didn’t diverge until old Five popped in eight days before the apocalypse so technically baby Five’s death probably wouldn’t have any effect on old man Five but

hey, better safe than sorry, right?)

Baby Five feels kind of indebted to old Five for,, you know,,, saving his siblings by preventing the apocalypse and preventing him from a fate worse than death with not having to deal with isolation and the apocalypse?? so he’s more patient than old Five probably deserves

and old Five feels kind of responsible for baby Five because they both know baby Five can’t go back in time and unravel everything with how delicate it is and so baby Five still lost the equivalent of his entire family since he doesn’t exactly know these older version anymore and

hey, who knows the other better than themselves, right? Baby Five understands old Five’s motivations and shares history, knows exactly how far he would go for his family when pushed

so yes now they’re essentially twins and 100% pretend to be one another constantly and get on the others nerves and help each other heal and that’s the tea on that

[heartlesslywhumping]

I got an ask regarding some touchy subjects and rather than just respond to the ask and have it pop up in everyone’s feeds, I decided to copy/paste the question under a cut.

Here are the trigger warnings,

TW: Loss of a loved one TW: Guns TW: Shootings

im writing a story about my oc’s life after she finds out that her boyfriend died in a school shooting he was responsible for & im having trouble writing the grieving process for her. her facing the fact that she misses him & still loves him but is shocked & appalled @ the actions he committed, not wanting to believe that he was planning something so horrific, or wanting to believe he was even capable of doing something like that. (i get it if u don’t want to tho, it’s a bit controversial)

Before I start, I’d like to remind everybody that all the research I put out is taken from the internet, conversations with people I know, and the occasional book. I am not a professional in the matters of mental health and this is not infallible, my word is not law and this is for fun and writing purposes only. Seek out real help in the form of counselors, doctors, and therapists if you are affected in real life.

So I’m sure everyone is aware of the five stages of grief. A lot of people use that for the end all, be all of writing grief but the thing is, there is no end all be all when it comes to emotions or brain stuff.

Some people fit that mold exactly whereas others skip all but one. Some speed through and some take ages in each stage. There is no neat lineup of emotions, more like a roller coaster that never ends. An unfortunate side effect of the firm belief in the five stages means that some people criticize themselves for “not grieving correctly”. Each grieving process is unique as each person is unique.

Of course, misunderstanding the grieving process can lead to some fun internal angst!

That being said, I think it’s important to know and acknowledge the five stages of grief. To keep this from being a crazy long, college essay length response, I’m going to try to keep all of this brief. If you (or anyone) would like further information about any of these individual steps and would like my help in research, just let me know!

Denial: Denial is stage number one. It most often shows itself by being unable to acknowledge situations, avoiding the facts of a problem, and downplaying the consequences of issues. It can show up in regards to anything that makes one feel vulnerable or out of control. Which is basically grief. These days, doctors say that a bit of denial is actually good and can be helpful. It gives the brain little doses of what has happened, protecting us from taking in too much too soon. The brain naturally gives us little breaks to process, regroup, and try again. However, denial can easily become unhealthy. When one avoids a problem altogether, the denial stops one from taking important actions, or a person becomes unable to face anything or delaying getting help

Anger: Lashing out at others, at yourself, and even at the person who died. There’s anger at being left behind, being in pain, that life has changed, at the events that led up to death, there’s even anger at being angry. This is probably a lot of what your character will feel, potentially even the majority or getting stuck in that feeling. There’s the anger that the boyfriend did this, anger that there was nothing your character could do, anger that the boyfriend died, anger at themselves for grieving or being angry at the dead.

Bargaining: This most often shows up before someone dies. The sudden return to faith, the praying, the thought of karma, all those things. After death it shows up in “What if I did [blank], then could I have stopped this?” “If only I had done, said, noticed [blank], then this wouldn’t have happened”, “What if when they said or did [blank], that was a sign?” It’s a lot of blaming oneself for something that was completely out of their control. Were there signs? Was there something I could have done? It can turn utterly unreasonable, too. “If I had eaten the carrot first instead of the potato, maybe this wouldn’t have happened.” People can even go into the somewhat fantastical idea that if they do one thing or another, than they will wake up and it will all have been a bad dream or misunderstanding. It can also turn into “If I do XYZ, then this will never happen to me again.'' This is another stage I wouldn’t be surprised if your character kept returning to.

Depression: This is when the “sad” part of grief shows itself most clearly. It feels as though it will last forever. This term doesn’t mean the mental illness, it means the response to loss. People often withdraw from life, they wonder what the point is of anything, they get lost in a fog. The realization of loss hits hard and is understandably depressed. Can this all lead to a mental illness? Of course. But having depressive reactions to depressive situations is a normal response. The odd thing would be to not experience depression after depressing situations.

Acceptance: This is often confused with the sun coming out and everything being okay again. The reality is, nothing will go back to the way it was. One may never be okay with what happened. And that’s normal. Acceptance is accepting the reality that a loved one is gone and recognizing that this reality is your new reality. One may not like it or find it to be “okay” but it’s reality now. People learn to live with it and keep going. They learn how to live in a world where their loved one is gone. They readjust and realize that they can’t live in or change the past. There is no replacing someone but one can move on, make new connections, new meaningful relationships, new lives overall. Many people see this as a betrayal of a loved one but it’s not. It’s continuing to live life. You aren’t replacing someone, you can’t replace someone. But you can make new relationships and lives while respecting and loving those who have gone.

Now, of course everyone grieves differently. These five stages don’t always occur in this order, some last longer than others, some don’t show up, some keep coming back for more. There’s no right or wrong way to grieve, it just happens. Some show their pain externally, some keep it internal. It’s all different and it’s all okay. Understanding these stages is important but they fluctuate.

Some Final Notes about Grief: Grief shakes faith. That doesn’t just mean religion, although yes, that too. Faith in the world is shaken, faith in ourselves, each other, anyone that could be perceived to have “stopped” this. Law enforcement, medical professionals, caretakers, etc. Some ask how such a thing could have happened to such a good person or how the world is so unfair. People also are shaken in themselves and their relationships. Who are they without their loved one? Who were they before? Who are they going to be after? Some people may try to go back to the way they were before but come to realize that there is no going back. We are often defined by others. We define ourselves by our relationships to people. We are certain people to our spouses, our siblings, children, friends, coworkers, etc. We’re mentors, we’re caregivers, we’re the mom friend, we’re the bad influence, etc. When someone passes away, it can feel like we’ve lost that part of ourselves as well. That is part of grief. Your character may wonder where they stand now, they’re the “girlfriend of a school shooter”, what does that mean? This of course, spurs the whole bargaining and blaming and all of that stuff.

     Second thing I want to mention: Trauma. This is a traumatic event, regardless of whether your character was there or not. The moment she is told turns into a traumatic event. She may feel that she doens’t have the right to be traumatized because she wasn’t affected. But she was. She is just as traumatized as anyone else, just in a different way. She will likely have some post-traumatic effects. This may or may not lead to PTSD, but there will be lasting effects.

Side note: PTSD can happen to anyone. Most people refer it to war events but it can happen to anyone that has had a traumatic event occur in their lives.

People affected by trauma tend to feel unsafe. Whether that’s in their bodies, in their abilities, in their relationships with others, what have you. Regaining a sense of safety can take anymore from days to years. It’s often hard for people to regulate or soothe difficult emotions in their lives that they may not associate directly to the trauma. They may also find speaking about their trauma overwhelming. There are actually researchers trying to find nonverbal ways to help emotional regulation.

Processing trauma puts words, emotions, and meaning to it. This is most commonly undertaken with a therapist or a counselor. Attending to safety allows one to move through processing and integrated it rather than reacts to it. Now, people often can be overwhelmed and emotionally flooded while processing. The feeling of safety and stability must be regained before moving on with a personal recovery or story. The point of processing is not to relive the trauma but it’s also not meant to tell a story without any emotions. This involves exploration, mourning, and remembrance of what happened, along with the space to grieve and express emotions.

Eventually, people find their new sense of self and reality. They redefine themselves in the context of new reality. Trauma no longer becomes a defining aspect of their life. They are not organizing their life around their traumatic experiences. Trauma becomes integrated into the story of their life but it is not the story that defines them. Eventually, people come to recognize the impact of their trauma but are able to take concrete steps towards empowerment and a new way of living. Some find this through a mission to help them heal and grow further, such as mentoring. Regardless of how it’s achieved, recovery is different for everyone. Many feel this burning desire to get better quickly and can feel frustration that a process is taking too long or they’re not doing it right. Sprinkle heavy air quotations around all of this. Recovery is not defined by the complete absence of thoughts or feelings around trauma but the ability to live with it in a way that it’s not controlling your life. It’s important for those recovery to be gentle, patient, and compassionate with themselves. However, because emotions are wack, they’ll likely need someone to help them with this as they will not be at all kind to themselves.

     Now, I’ve thrown around the term “Integration.” What does that mean? Trauma integration is a process in which trauma is acknowledged to be a part of a new, ongoing reality but is no longer the center of experience and life because it is surrounded by awareness. In better terms, it’s realizing that trauma happened and is a part of your life story but it does not define your life story.

Here is a helpful image that explains what happens before, during, and after trauma. The creator says that her view of this “roadmap” is a circle, not a line. None of these stages are “one and done”. Survivors of trauma usually go through every stage multiple times with varying lengths and intensities. It’s a spiral, not a line.

I’m going to post more research regarding trauma later, because I think it’s neat for writers but especially whumpers.

     The final thing I want to offer is that I would not be surprised if your character dealt with survivor’s guilt. If you don’t know what that is, it’s exactly what it sounds like. Guilt that you survived where others did not. Now, your character may not have been in any direct danger but her guilt over the fact it was her boyfriend that killed others will likely be the same. I know people that have dealt with survivor’s guilt because their house did not burn down in a wildfire and their friend’s did. It’s the feeling that one has done something wrong by surviving a tragic even where others succumbed. It can even show up in an employee who kept their job when an equally qualified co-worked was laid off. Emotions are wack.

Of course, it’s not logical for someone to feel responsible for another person’s fate but humans rarely have control over their guilt.

There is the obvious guilt over surviving. That one stayed safe where others didn’t, even if the person in question was whole countries away. The feeling that one does not deserve to be safe or should have been harmed/affected as well. One finds themselves questioning the fairness of the world or hating their “good fortune.”

Then there’s guilt over what “should” have been done. There’s remorse that maybe one didn’t do enough. They should have known, should have tried harder, done better, etc. It’s an inflated sense of failure or responsibility. Back to bargaining with the sense that someone should have done something differently. Eventually, one has to realize that there’s only so much a single person can do.

There’s more guilt over what you did. Leaving behind family for better or safer opportunities, pushing someone out of the way while running from danger, etc. There’s also the potential guilt for coincidence. Waylon Jennings was supposed to be on the plane that crashed and killed Buddy Holly, the Big Bopper, and Ritchie Valens. Jennings told Holly that he had given up his seat to a flu-stricken Big Bopper and Jennings would instead be taking the unheated tour bus. Holly joked that he hoped Jennings froze on the bus. Jennings responded with “I hope your ol’ plane crashes.” Later, Jennings said that for years he thought he caused the plane crash.

Now we know there was no way Jennings caused the crash through a teasing comment, but guilt is funny that way.

Survivors often try not to think or talk about an event. Additionally, many feel on edge, vigilant, paranoid, detached, easily startled. They may obsess over what happened, feel confused, unworthy about living, unsure of the meaning of life, or are plagued by the sense that no matter where they go or what they do, they're never safe. This may appear in your character feeling that she never truly knows someone else and can never trust another person.

Eventually your character will have to learn to forgive herself, even though she didn’t (or did, depending on your story) cause anything to prompt her boyfriend to do that.

Final notes: Grief doesn’t just go away. It sticks around for years after. Sometimes you’re hit by it out of the blue random. The wounds remain but the pain lessens and life goes on. Recovery is possible and reachable, but grief will always stay. Recovery, peace, and healing are not found in another person. A new relationship or a discussion with another victim will not heal your character. She may find closure in talking with others, she may find help from a therapist, but one person cannot heal another. There is help, there are resources, and it will all help her to heal but ultimately that comes from her. A physical therapist cannot touch you and presto! You’re healed and strong again. They can train you and help you work through your pain until you body is strong but it will be your muscles that heal and your body that fixes. It’s the same way for mental health. A therapist or counselor will help but they cannot give you a new brain or heal it for you. Of course, your character can be in a new relationship by the end of the story but I would be careful about framing things to seem like her new boy/girlfriend is the cure for her. They cannot fix her or give her peace. They may love and support her but I would just be aware not to frame things like a new relationship is her cure.

That’s it from me! Already this is pretty crazy long and that’s the gist of things. If you would like my research and input on other things, let me know!

[wonderer-ru]

my soul remembers us

☾ Taehyung|reader story

↳ genre: fluff and soft angst ↳ word count: 14.004 ↳ warnings: none ↳ a/n: fun fact. i wanted to finish writing this by Taehyung’s birthday… last year. so this has been a long time coming. i love this story very much, this is my favorite concept and i hope you enjoy. please, let me know what you think. oh, and there’s a little easter egg for those who read “under the spell”. happy new year!

⍣…your generation cracked a shell of something that was beyond one’s comprehension for thousands of years. What was made to be a matter of belief, religion and mysticism, took a form of the undeniable truth. Reincarnation. Yes, in your time, reincarnation was a scientifically proven fact…⍣

moodboard

☾ reincarnation au; soulmate au

Each generation had something that they thought was impossible at the beginning of their reign, yet later it sneaked into reality with such smoothness, the discovery was welcomed almost too nonchalantly to be fair. Some thought video phones were out of a fairytale, but decades later they found themselves using those daily, without a second thought or the initial feeling of novelty. That’s how progress worked, you thought. The most farsighted people would just stop wondering and fantasizing, deciding to bring unimaginable things to their tangibility instead. Sometimes, it was scary how quickly those miracles became nothing more than mundane accessories in people’s routine lives.

You hoped it wouldn’t happen to this particular notion, because your generation cracked a shell of something that was beyond one’s comprehension for thousands of years. What was made to be a matter of belief, religion and mysticism, took a form of the undeniable truth. Reincarnation. Yes, in your time, reincarnation was a scientifically proven fact, that also helped in explaining several psychological phenomena; many of which were previously considered to be purely trauma-based. How could this become ordinary? Admittedly, the break through was still fresh in society’s minds, so you didn’t worry about its oblivion. Not yet.

Nowadays, the theurgic discovery nested right in the sweet spot: the government just started to provide financials for research, while keeping the scientific details away from the general public, therefore the concept was still too vague for the scammers to get their hands on it. Sure, mediums offered a look into previous lives long before that, but now they strived to cash on the boost that would inevitably occur, forging some science degrees along the way. The good old psychic shtick was in the past. Claiming you can talk to the dead in a dimly lit room wouldn’t roll anymore. No, people would ask you for your diploma now.

And while grifters tried to figure it out, clinics were built, special nursing courses  and programs were organized, and you were fortunate enough to get into one. Studying felt like constant research, as if you were a part of developing this new knowledge, and it felt invigorating. You were learning aspects of reincarnation right as they were uncovered, and isn’t it the best way to become a specialist on the subject? Every piece of information was cherished by everyone around you, so you couldn’t help but stock those close to your heart as well. It all became even more surreal, when you found out that your first internship would be spent under the mentoring hand of none other than the man himself. Dr. Kim Namjoon. A young genius, only a couple of years older than you, that shook the world with his findings and now, naturally, was leading as many research teams as he could handle. The rest still worked with his careful oversight. 

The growing amount of brand new possibilities and fields of research seemed overwhelming at times, yet there was one phenomenon that attracted the most attention. Confabulation. A disturbance of memory that used to be defined as the production of fabricated, distorted, or misinterpreted memories about oneself or the world, without the conscious intention to deceive. Now - dictionaries with this definition in them could be thrown away, because confabulation was currently known as “the glimpse into one’s past life”. Not really scientific yet, but, yes, those “fabricated” memories were proven to be very real memories that the soul experienced in one of its past incarnations. 

People’s confabulations ranged from subtle alterations to bizarre fabrications, and - what’s even more fascinating - those people were generally very confident about their recollections, despite contradictory evidence. That’s why the subjects didn’t bat an eye at the contact with something much more modern than their previous self would be used to. The lucky peculiarity made Dr. Kim’s research much easier and a lot less expensive. After all, it would be highly inconvenient, if the doctors had to build entire eras around their patients - probably separate hospitals for people from certain decades - just for the results to be somewhat valid. It was crucial to keep people of interest calm and undisturbed, so, fortunately, they didn’t freak out when their soul from the 1920’s suddenly woke up hundreds of years later. 

Surely, at some point, maybe half a century into the future, fruits of this work will become widely accessible - to wealthy people first, then to common folk - providing everyone with a peep into their distant adventures. Today, however, the thoughts of building any sort of business based on reincarnation were strictly put on hold, at least until Dr. Kim and his team figure out the safest way of putting a person into the state of paramnesia and, most importantly, bringing them out of it. The latter posed as a tougher task, because, at this stage of research, all existing records showed that patients could be stuck in ‘confabulation’ for, apparently, only God knows how long. From days to months, to even years. No trace of noticeable patterns or correlations. 

“We have a new patient today,” Dr. Kim stopped in front of another hospital room, and you almost bumped into him, a little too intently scrabbling away in your writing pad. Namjoon (not that you could call him by his name) always had five to seven interns following him during rounds, because “I don’t know if you’ve gathered enough information about me, but I only have two eyes and one brain. I’d rather have all that, but times five. Gross, I agree. Plus, the surgery would cost a fortune. So I dutifully ask of you, interns, the fresh blood of this place, to be my extra eyes, brains, hands. The hospital will provide you with pens and paper. Quantity of your notes could result in quality of our overall data”. Dr. Kim was well aware that he couldn’t catch every single detail by himself - especially since he was the one asking questions - so he took all the help possible, which spoke to his humble nature. The man just really wanted to move forward with his discovery. 

But, despite leading the most advanced scientific program in the world, he was quite old fashioned when it came to interacting with patients. Dr. Kim refused to install any hidden cameras in their rooms, because having interns by his side gave him several unique points of view on what his patients said and how they acted; which was priceless, unlike the equipment that would only lower his eyes sight in the end. Have you seen the quality of those videos? One-way mirrors were also unacceptable, as they would turn any conversation into interrogation, and the sheer vibe of the room could make patients feel uneasy. Not to mention the expenses that this kind of purchase would cause. Government could only help to a certain extent, and independent sponsors still found the research too risky and unreliable to invest into. 

“I was informed that this case is somewhat special. The patient correctly recalled his name, which could mean one of two things: he just, for some unknown reason, remembered his current name, or, he had the same exact name in his past life. That we won’t be able to determine with certainty until he snaps out of it, I guess.”

“Is it possible that he has kept more memories of his present life? Of course, but we’ll have to wait and see. So,” Dr. Kim took the chart from a wall pocket and looked over it. “Kim Taehyung. Twenty three years old. Male. Car accident. Has a couple of bruised ribs and, of course, a head injury. The decade his soul is currently in: 1960s,” as you might have noticed, Dr. Kim favored answering questions before they were asked, which honestly made things easier, since your preference consisted of staying quiet, observing and writing things down. “You will all be given additional files with more information about him, what his family and friends could provide. Take your notes carefully, so later you can potentially point out similarities between his past and current lifetimes.”

You nodded, along with four other interns, and followed Dr. Kim into the room, laying out some preparatory work on the blank piece of paper: his name, today’s date and the date his soul thinks it is. As you walked in and proceeded to take your usual spot in the corner of the room, your gaze brushed the patient’s figure on the bed, noticing a book in his hand. A book that, according to his perspective of time, would be written half a century later, so, basically, the man was reading a story form the future and didn’t even know it. You made a note of it, even though it wasn’t your main task. 

This late into the internship, you and your group-mates have made up a system where each intern had only a couple of aspects of the conversation to document. No one had to split their focus, and, at the end, you’d exchange notes to create the complete picture. Some had to pay close attention to patients’ nonverbal behavior, some listened to their voice and intonations. Your job was to write down the exact words that were said. That’s why you didn’t bother with getting a better place to stand, to look at the young man. Your ears would work perfectly fine from the corner. You were used to carrying this role by now, since it was pretty much the same group of interns every time, and everyone has settled into their groove. Although, maybe, you should’ve switched more often, because catching the words and writing them down became a chain of mindless, automatic operations. It didn’t matter what the conversation was about. You’d analyze everything later, when the puzzle is assembled. 

Dr. Kim went through his usual set of questions - nothing specific, yet; minimal usage of modern terminology; just general check up - but, a couple of minutes in, his voice acquired lightness that was slightly out of character, and you even heard Namjoon laugh. Huh. This guy must be very amusing. The thought left your mind as soon as it entered, and you continued to be oblivious to the patient’s velvety voice, or the way a wide boxy grin made his eyes disappear. Words, words, words. You were only concerned with words, not noticing that the room was already charmed and completely in love with Kim Taehyung. Maybe, you’ll feel the same, once you read back everything that’s been written in the past ten minutes.

However, your fluent handwriting suddenly falters when Dr. Kim is interrupted mid sentence. 

“Y/N?”

Your own name was left unfinished under the pen as your eyes widened in realization. The patient just called you, and, judging by the tone of his voice, he was pleasantly surprised. You looked up to find every gaze in the room turned in your direction. Taehyung was smiling, and, suddenly, you were very aware of him. Shouldn’t have ignored his presence before, because now it was a bit overwhelming. And there’s that flitting feeling... You’d call it a déjà vu, but it would contradict Dr. Kim’s newest theory. He thought that the concept of “déjà vu” was about alternative universes, not about past lives. According to him, déjà vu appears when you experience something that your alternative self lived through a bit earlier. As if they went through life a little faster, but in a moment of deja vu you catch up to them, hit the same point in time and space, then go your barely separate ways. Anyway...

You turned to Namjoon - who looked surprised, but also intrigued - hoping that your eyes screamed for help obviously enough. 

“I didn’t realize that they’ve brought me to your hospital,” the man seemed very excited by the encounter, so, at least, he liked you. But how the hell did he know you at all? You opened your mouth (that appeared to be rid of any moisture) to say something, but Namjoon stepped in; probably to prevent you from answering with anything that could confuse or disturb the patient. 

“Excuse me, Taehyung. Can I steal your...?” Dr. Kim paused, expecting for Taehyung to finish the sentence, and - oh boy - he did. 

“Fiancée,” the man replied happily, a somewhat prideful look adoring his features. Meanwhile, your ability to breathe was packing its bags, ready to travel. A soft gasp - that sounded a lot like ‘fiancée’ - escaped your lips, and you felt someone’s hand on your back, pushing you off the wall. When did you lean against it? Now that you decided to concentrate on it - your legs were obviously shaking. 

“Fiancée,” Dr. Kim repeated, physically pushing you out of the room, because your body didn’t seem to cooperate under the severe shock. You could vaguely - very, very... very vaguely - understand what all of it meant, but the right pieces just bounced off each other, not clicking yet. “Fascinating. We’ll be right back,” Namjoon ushered you out, hoping that Taehyung didn’t find your terrified state too suspicious. He couldn’t let this chance go to waste, because for Dr. Kim everything clicked the moment his patient called your name.

“Y/N, do you know him?” he had to make sure that in this life you were absolute strangers. Your lungs came from their brief vacation and worked with full force, as you frantically tried to remember seeing Kim Taehyung’s face before. No memory came up, and, sure, you could forget a face, but certainly not the fact that you were engaged to said face. So you shook your head, confidently enough for Dr. Kim to light up with delight and anticipation. A new discovery was on the way. 

“No, I’ve never seen him, and I am not his fiancée,” you denied the fact as if it was an outrageous accusation, when, in reality, everyone knew that the whole thing was just a trick, played on Taehyung by his own fogged mind. 

“That’s excellent!” Namjoon was practically jumping on the spot, while your confusion slowly wore off. Very slowly. 

“Excellent? Wha- why, why? Why would you-? I wouldn’t use that wo- ...Oh,” and then it hit you. “OH! It means that he knew me in his past life! Holy sh-“

“Yes, precisely! And it also means that you had the same name in your past life, which means that he probably did too!” Dr. Kim was hitting you with conclusions and calculations - rapid fire style - so your inner scientist was simply ecstatic, yet overwhelmed and a bit dizzy. “And it also means that you physically look the same as your previous self! This is unprecedented! You have to play along!” you were nodding along to everything Namjoon was saying. He was so enthusiastic and fired up, it was infectious. But wait-

“Wha- What?!” did you hear him right? “Play along as in... I have to pretend to be his fiancée?” Namjoon exhaled to calm himself down from excitement, before attempting to calm you down from panicking. His hands squeezed your shoulders, but Dr. Kim soon found that it wasn’t enough to ground you. “I have to do everything that it implies? I have to pretend... to be in love?” you whispered the word ‘love’ like it was something forbidden; like faking love is the most sinful and horrible crime to commit. 

“Y/N, my dear Y/N, please, hear me out,” Namjoon’s hands altered to cradle your face, and he looked into your eyes as if you were the only one who could help him, save him; like you were the only person that mattered right now, and if the context of his pleas was any less professional, you’d feel weak in the knees. It made sense, though. Dr. Kim was in love with scientific progress, and you were the embodiment of it in that fateful moment. “We can’t destroy his world right now, because we don’t know- ...we can’t predict what it could possibly do to his mind. It could result in a catastrophe. But, more than that, just- ...just imagine how much we can uncover. You already gave me a lot just by standing in the corner of that room. Do this too, please. It could change everything.”

“I... I am not a good actress. And I don’t know anything about him... about us in his... damn it! Our past life. What if he figures it out?” to be completely honest, you were convinced the moment Namjoon started speaking. You’ve never seen anyone so determined and committed. It truly was the work of his life. Right now, your frightened mind just scrambled for more reassurance that, you knew, he could give you. 

“It won’t matter to him. You know as well as I do that these patients don’t get suspicious about things ‘not adding up’. You just have to act like you know him and that, yes, you are a woman in love, about to marry the man of her dreams,” Dr. Kim was still pretty close, so you pealed his hands off your face, in case Taehyung came out of his room. He shouldn’t see you in a position that looks far from innocent. Was he a jealous type? Well, you were already in that mindset, might as well... Your head hit the wall with a quiet knock, and you closed your eyes, thinking things over one last time. 

“You don’t seem like the kind of student that would have a crush on their professor, so I won’t ask you to do this for me... unless,” he stretched out the sentence, narrowing eyes at you. Suspicion was real. “...you do have a... crush on me?” you snorted at that. His cluelessness was truly adorable. He obviously didn’t know or care about the proper navigation of someone’s romantic advances. And your reaction to it - as if it was such a ridiculous implication (after all, it wasn’t far fetched at all, because a lot of students did have a crush on him) - didn’t hurt the man, even though he said “ouch”. “Okay, then do it for science, Y/N, because I know you care.”

Dr. Kim lifted his hand, and you were split between rolling your eyes and squealing with joy. Here goes nothing.

“For science,” your fist bumped into his, and that sealed it. You were officially science bros with Kim Namjoon. 

...

“Were you really ready to use poor girl’s affection towards you? For your own benefit? Shame on you, Dr. Kim.”

“Uhh, not for my benefit? For science?”

...And you were officially engaged to Kim Taehyung. 

The hospital staff was immediately informed of your unusual situation, and not being the only one who had to “play along” felt somewhat relaxing. Moving forward, for Taehyung and everyone else (in Taehyung’s presence) you were just a nurse that worked exhausting shifts daily and fulfilled her duties by caring for all sorts of patients. Now you practically lived at the hospital, not only because nurses in the 60s did that, but because Dr. Kim advised you to spend as much time with your new-old fiancé as you could. 

You felt like a government spy, and Taehyung was your mission. In some ways, it was true. You were his lovely bride’s evil tween, and your task was to get close to him, because he held some important secrets. Dramatic, yet strangely accurate. His personal file - that also comprised everyone’s notes on the man - served as your desk book, and his parents’ narrative was your bedtime story. You were relieved to find that Taehyung was single, even though his current life didn’t mean a great deal at the moment. The fact that there wasn’t a romantic partner in sight eased your mind considerably. Directing “heart eyes” (even fake ones) at someone else’s lover would be guilt-inducing, surely. You just hoped that his family and friends were informed of his personal life as well as they thought. 

This noble scientific swindle was destined to start awkwardly, so you were having an out-of-body experience during every conversation with Taehyung. Lookers-on see most of the game, and you could imagine how easy it was to point out the stiffness of your posture or the rehearsed nature of your sentences. Your own tongue felt heavy and foreign as it moved in your mouth, and, at one point, Namjoon seriously considered paying for acting classes. He couldn’t have you compromising the “mission” by planting seeds of suspicion into Taehyung’s mind. Admittedly, it would be really hard - or even impossible - to do, but your behavior around the patient was just that unnatural and forced. 

By good fortune, Taehyung was completely oblivious to your struggles with communication, and, as irony would have it, played a crucial part in making the whole situation less tense. Of course, he did it without even realizing his own contributions to the success of Dr. Kim’s research. With time, you stopped dreading the interaction and your own heavy-handedness, because, when it came down to it, Taehyung was really easy and fun to be around. He had a gift of making people feel joyous, always ready to spark or endure some benignant foolishness. His ardour was infectious, and the man rarely failed in making you laugh. 

One month into the “relationship”, you could unhesitatingly confirm that Taehyung was a sweet and caring boyfriend. More than that, you were convinced that the mastermind behind the term “puppy love” was inspired by the look on Taehyung’s face whenever he zoned out, staring at his fiancée - in this case, you - and it had nothing to do with teenagers being in love. The man was quite affectionate (note: understatement of the millennium), and if, at first, his urge to be close to you was restrained by the injuries and prescribed bed rest, now - you could barely find an empty corner and write your daily report for Namjoon. You had to do it while Taehyung was asleep, which wasn’t particularly problematic, since the boy always nudged you to take a nap on his lap the next day, while he read on a bench in the garden. Taehyung tied your tiredness to night shifts, you imagined. 

Nonetheless, being his significant other was challenging in unexpected ways, so you still used Taehyung’s injuries as a protective barrier. The bruise on his bottom lip was pretty severe, so kisses were off the table, which saddened the man greatly. Plus, the complete healing was constantly postponed, because Taehyung would always cut the wound open by smiling widely at something cute you did. When an older nurse scolded the boy for making her tend to his poor lip again and again ( ...and again), Taehyung only shrugged and said that his fiancée was simply too adorable and he couldn’t help it. So. No kisses. Less smiling. Once, though, he turned his head at the right time - just as you leaned in to leave a peck on his cheek - resulting in your lips brushing the corner of Taehyung’s mouth, and it was the closest he got to lip locking with you. That little “accident” got the man so excited, he didn’t beg for kisses that week at all. 

It was much harder to deprive him of cuddles, though. Not because there were no excuses to avoid them. He had a couple of broken ribs, and it would be painful to even hug tightly. Pushing the man away, keeping him at the arm’s length turned out to be emotionally exhausting and heartbreaking, because Taehyung didn’t hesitate to regularly remind you of how much he loved all the snuggles and cuddles, and how desperately he missed feeling that sort of closeness with you. Every time you left his side, so he could rest, Taehyung pouted playfully, not willing to let go and fall asleep just yet. On more occasions than your heart would like to admit, you gave in - just a little, but it was a big victory for him - and kissed Taehyung’s forehead, not missing the way he sighed deeply and contentedly as your lips pressed to his skin. The boy’s eyes always appeared a little more dreary when you pulled away, and he never omitted a chance to hold onto your hand for a second longer, before giving you a tight smile and a quiet “goodnight, beautiful”. The image never failed to create a lump in your throat. He deserved much more affection in return, but the “you” that could give it to him was long gone. 

Your debt to him was becoming unmeasurable by the day, because, through Taehyung, you could also get a glimpse into your past life, without having to injure your head. It was a truly priceless gift, but its destiny was unknown and impossible to predict. Will Taehyung remember any of your time together after he “wakes up”? Will he remember all the love he spent? All the memories of you he shared? There was no way to tell with certainty. Most patients didn’t recall their “confabulation period” at all. They were left with completely blank pages, and no stories to fill those with. Being in a coma would probably be more entertaining and colorful. Yet, some lucky people remembered parts of different lengths. An even smaller percentage of patients - remembered everything.

You didn’t know for which outcome to hope, but you’d be okay with anything as long as Taehyung didn’t feel sad or hurt, or the wrong kind of foolish for giving away so much of himself; all to someone who failed to appreciate that fraction of time with him for what it was: a beautiful and unselfish gift of love. Sometimes you thought that it was your only chance to be loved like that... in this life.

“The 60s you” was obviously a nurse, but you kept discovering new details about her with every visit to Taehyung’s memory bank. He loved reminiscing about the most trivial things, and even the first time he saw you brush your teeth in the morning was special. That’s when Taehyung knew that you felt like home to him. Well, good for you and your notes to Dr. Kim, who was quite pleased with how detailed your reports were. He did point out that the way you wrote about Taehyung felt more... inspired - less formal and more poetic - though, it didn’t come as a surprise to you, because, with time, you became significantly more fascinated with your-past-self’s future husband... if that makes sense. 

Kim Taehyung was a pilot, which slightly correlated with his current occupation: aeronautical engineer; although, it didn’t cover solely planes in your time. He seemed to really love the sky, and it reflected in his poetry preferences. Taehyung read and recited poems about the skies the most, be it the blue and fresh early morning or the mysterious starry night that rhymed within their lines. The “hopeless romantic” side of him was utterly endearing, which is why you struggled to hide your shock when his other passion was revealed. Your-60s-self was probably aware of it, so you couldn’t really react when Taehyung confessed that he missed street fighting almost as much as flying. It was hard to imagine Taehyung expressing any sort of aggression, but that particular hobby of his just proved that everyone needed an outlet. The darkness had to go somewhere, and the man not only let it out away from you or the job, but also got some trophies (or prize money) for it. 

Later you found out that Taehyung was into a more... civil form of competing. Yes, it was still violent, but somewhat organized and restricted by a set of rules, which made the whole thing less gruesome in your mind. Taehyung was also strangely amazed at how ironic the cause of his injuries was: with duties and interests as dangerous as flying a plane and street fighting, he managed to be knocked out by a plain car crash. He talked about all of it with such ease that the very thing that should’ve pushed you away, made you distant, brought you a new appreciation for the love you once had for each other. Taehyung trusted you enough to let in on that secret, and you loved him enough to except that dangerous hobby of his. You must’ve been sure that he was worth it. 

Yet, while you cherished the love itself, your young heart still couldn’t grasp what your old soul already knew, already lived. Multiple times, it could be. What could create a bond so strong, so powerful that it surfaced through Taehyung several lifetimes later? You couldn’t find the answer with the way you’ve been approaching the mystery so far. Your mind was so completely focused on the words that came out of Taehyung’s mouth, you failed to look past them. Subliminal messages got lost between the lines, because the information for research was your priority. And, even though Dr. Kim praised your reports, there were things about Taehyung that skipped your attention. Some of them were gearing up to hit you in the face pretty soon.

It was a very busy day at the hospital. Several new patients arrived, all with signs of confabulation, but their physical injuries had to be treated first, which made all the real nurses occupied and unavailable to do Taehyung’s scheduled re-bandaging. You’ve seen it done enough times on different patients to know the drill, so you didn’t think twice before agreeing to perform the procedure on your fiancé. Come to think of it, you were never present when his bandages were changed. Every time you went to remind him or ask, he’d already done it. 

“Y/N?! What- What are you doing here?” Taehyung stuttered, wide-eyed, as you burst into his room with fresh bandages and other necessary supplies in hands. The man looked panicked, but you decided to write it off as the initial surprise. 

“I will be changing your bandages today,” you practically sang and turned to the table for preparations, missing the way your uncharacteristically cheerful mood went completely unnoticed by Taehyung... ironically. On any other day he would eagerly channel, harbor and try his gosh-darn best to increase that rare excited lilt in your voice. He’d strive to make it last as long as possible... Not today, though. 

“Are- Are you sure no one else can do it?” the man kept stumbling over his words, voice sounding painfully small, but it still wasn’t enough for you to get suspicious. 

“Why? Don’t you trust me? I’m hurt,” you feigned offense, playful to a fault, but the tease went right over Taehyung’s head, who appeared oblivious and rushed to assure you that-

“No, no. Of course, I trust you...,” the sentence faded away as if he mumbled it under his breath, to himself, and the words felt so heavy with worry and nervousness that your movements faded as well, brows furrowing in confusion. You slowly turned to look at him - really look at him - for the first time since stepping into the room. The man before you clearly couldn’t decide what to do with his body, constantly shifting on the bed, not knowing where to place his hands or how to successfully escape your gaze... or his own skin, it seemed. Eventually, Taehyung crossed his arms, protectively hugging himself. You’ve never seen him so tense. 

“Tae? Are you sure you’re alright? I’ve seen you shirtless... right?” you chuckled humorlessly, not even buying that that could be the reason for his behavior. Or could it? Why was he acting like this? Was your marriage arranged? Did you agree not to have sex before the wedding? It seemed- felt unlikely, but, before you could spiral into a full on panic mode, he answered...

“Yeah! ... Yeah, let’s just- let’s just do it,” he swallowed, reaching for the hem of his shirt with trembling fingers. You didn’t realize you held your breath until it whooshed out, all at once, at the sight of his bare torso. 

In that moment, certain, relatively ordinary for a hospital patient phrases came rushing back to you. “I miss fighting, but with the way my body aches, it feels like I still do it every day”, Taehyung would joke, and your psychoanalytic brain would only highlight the ‘i miss fighting’ part of it, because that gave you new (and quite shocking) information. Now, though, you cursed at your own ability to pay attention to all the wrong details, because it should’ve been obvious. He was in pain. 

You stepped closer, taking in all the bruises that covered his upper body. If they were fading now, what was it like before? The mere thought of it and the flashing images made you lightheaded, though they weren’t the main reason why your knees hit the floor in front of him.

“Taehyung-,“ you gasped, reaching out to touch his stomach gently. The man hissed at the sting, but you didn’t move your hand away, only willed it to be even gentler. His presence was a miracle in more ways than one now, because he shouldn’t have survived a crash that left him in so many shades of purple. Not only his soul was a traveler, but his body seemed to have gone through so much as well. 

“I didn’t want you to see this,” the man sighed and shook his head in defeat, not looking up to meet your eyes that, he imagined, were wide with horror. They were. 

You blinked away the tears, stood up and quickly moved to get the bandages. Suddenly, you wished they were made from the softest material imaginable. They weren’t, but it just meant that you and your hands had to be as careful as ever. Butterfly wings had to have nothing on your fingers. Without realizing it, you promised yourself that he wouldn’t feel a thing as you worked. 

Unfortunately, like most things, it was easier said than done, and, even though, you stepped in Taehyung’s direction with determination to soothe his aching body, your lack of experience with “real” nursing tasks was bound to ruin the plan. You weren’t sure what kind of pressure to apply or what was the best way to wrap bandages around his torso, which, combined with the overall painful nature of the procedure, only interrupted the quietness of the room with Taehyung’s grunts and hisses, always followed by his strained “it’s okay, keep going”. Your hands froze every time he made a distressed sound, but, when a number of them crossed what seemed like a hundred, you only wished to finish faster. 

The less bandages there were left - the more concentrated you became, finally finding your groove. Later, it would feel like an out of body experience. Like you’ve done this before, or, rather, your soul did, and it took the reigns in that moment, not asking for permission. You moved around Taehyung with much more swiftness, getting lost in your own repetitive movements. One roll of stretchy fabric later, you were ready to tie the final knot over his right shoulder. Taehyung moaned in pain, again, when you applied more pressure to make the knot tighter, and the next words escaped your mouth before you could think about it.

“I’m sorry, baby. It’s almost done,” your soul seemed to take over you completely. The phrase slipped out so naturally, you appeared right where he was - in your shared past life. Taehyung turned to look at you; so fast, you thought you heard his neck crack. And you realized why the man was stunned, yet, strangely, you didn’t feel the urge to be surprised about it as well. This moment felt too right to ruin it with stuttering excuses. 

“What?” you asked innocently, referring to his wide eyes and the fact that his mouth was hanging open. The boy blinked a couple of times, still unmoving, but when you shrugged and moved again to check if the bandages were wrapped around him comfortably, Taehyung snapped out of it. 

“You didn’t call me that- baby in awhile,” he paused, looking down at his lap. “I missed it,” Taehyung wished you didn’t say it now; not when he felt so undeserving of it. From where you were standing, though, he deserved to be called the sweetest of names all year long.

You circled the bed to stand in front of him. When Taehyung didn’t look up, guilt radiating off of him, your fingers reached for his chin to gently brush and tilt it up. Your eyes locked with his, and you felt your soul flutter... No. You felt your soul shudder as it desperately gulped for air after being suffocated under miles and miles of water for the longest time. You guessed, it was because you looked at him with a clear, unselfish purpose for the very first time. 

“Don’t hide things like that from me again,” you said - quietly, yet firmly - right before your throat started to tighten with emotions under the intensity of his gaze. He looked back earnestly, like he couldn’t believe the sight. He couldn’t believe that he got to see you like that: brave and terrified, determined and vulnerable. So beautiful. Still, he didn’t deserve it. But he would take in every detail, until his own eyes would start to water, matching yours. After all, he was just as terrified and just as brave as you were. Just as beautiful. 

The air was charged with rawest intimacy, yet, it felt empty. Not void of emotion or meaning, no. Quite the opposite. It simply felt freeing. Like you could spread your arms and spin, and you wouldn’t bump into a bed, a table, chairs. Your wild limbs wouldn’t touch a thing. You didn’t dare move and explore this vacuum, though, because, when it came down to it, you’d much rather spend every moment of that freedom next to him. You were zoned in on each other. Cocooned in this blissful nothingness that was supposed to make you shiver, make your skin crawl, and still, you felt warm... like your souls were hugging. 

Suddenly, it wasn’t enough, and soon Taehyung’s hands were on your waist, guiding you closer. Your shaky knees nearly buckled, when the man buried his face in your stomach, wrapping the whole length of his arms around you and holding you tightly. A bated gasp escaped your lungs, but even your heartbeat slowed down and got quiet as soon as you realized that Taehyung was mumbling something into the material of your white coat. You could tell by the waves of warm air spreading against your belly and his lips moving to let it out. It tickled a little, but you managed to make out a couple of phrases. “I’m sorry” and “I won’t”. 

In that moment, you felt beyond any time any place. It was scary and felt so immeasurably bigger than both of you. Did Taehyung sense it as well? Did his soul? Your fingers reached for his hair, running through it, and you felt an exhale against your core - trembling with relief - like he was going crazy without your touch, and now was on the verge of insanity, because he finally felt it. You smiled, letting the tears fall freely on top of his head. Your mind wasn’t quite set on why you felt like crying for hours. Were you just deprived of such pure human contact for so long, or was your soul crying in a mix of pain and happiness at having him so close again?

“You worry about me so much as it is. I didn’t want to add to it,” Taehyung pulled away a little, his chin still attached to you, and looked up. He seemed miserable and exhausted, making you wonder if he felt this way too often lately and was just really good at hiding it. But then, from a different perspective, he looked at ease and, somehow, younger. His eyes appeared less clouded, almost crystalline, and, for what it’s worth, you were happy that Taehyung didn’t have to mask his feelings anymore. Not from you. For as long as this incarnation of him would stay here. 

“You are a miracle,” you whispered as your fingers left his hair, sliding down to cradle his face instead. This phrase belonged to multiple versions of you - to “the scientists” you, to “the 60s nurse” you, to “the fiancée” you - but, ultimately, it belonged to your soul. Taehyung’s eyes widened for a split second, giving away his surprise at your words, but then a brilliant smile spread across the man’s features. He smiled like he realized something you didn’t, you couldn’t, because he was in this relationship with you for much longer, so he studied you that much closer. Now, it seemed ridiculous that you ever felt more aware of things than him, when you only knew one thing - his condition - and Taehyung has lived years by your side.

“I missed you calling me that too,” he said teasingly and placed a quick kiss to the inner side of your wrist. You said that to him before? Wow, you really did, didn’t you? Of course. “Although, it would usually be ‘you are my miracle’, but we’ll get there again.”

Again. So he noticed the change, the setback. He felt the distance you’ve put between them. Taehyung might have been oblivious to the fact that the books he read were from another century, but he was attuned to you and your moods this whole time. Did your behavior confuse him? How did he explain it to himself? Did he suspect that something wasn’t right? Just like that, the research was on your mind again... 

And, just like that, you also realized that that research wouldn’t be your priority anymore when it came to Taehyung. Taehyung himself would become your main focus. Not only his words would concern you, not only the information he gives you to fill out reports, but his feelings, his well-being, his heart. 

You promised yourself to keep Taehyung’s heart safe, dreading the fact that he was probably right. You will get there. One day, you will want to call him yours, and that will become your downfall. 

After what could only be described as a life changing experience you felt the shift. You felt your soul move for Taehyung whenever he was near. It arched stubbornly towards his soul, kicking and screaming, like it wanted to hug its newfound lover again. You felt your heart beat faster every time he smiled at you. This relationship danced on the verge of being too real for comfort and was destined to end in a catastrophe, given the speed at which your affection for Taehyung was growing. Hell, sometimes you had to physically pinch yourself to keep from daydreaming about your shared past life. You found yourself wondering, quite frequently, if those versions of the two of you really loved each other till their dying days. Or did they divorce years later? No, that didn’t feel right. Could you Google that?

It didn’t help that Taehyung felt the shift as well. He started to initiate more physical contact without fearing your rejection, and you didn’t have it in you to push him away anymore. So you just held you breath every time his hand casually slid down your back and stayed on the small of it, all while he quietly watched you fill out fake reports at the nursing station. Eventually, seeing your frustration with the task, he’d start to rub your lower back in soothing circles, which made you relax almost instantly. It’s like he knew exactly what you needed... He knew you.

Sometimes (and it started to happen more often as the time went on), you forgot to separate your past and present lives from each other, eagerly listening to Taehyung’s stories like they were all a part your grand character ark. You saw yourself as the manifestation of all the previous incarnations, finding that you always agreed with your own views on life and love, and the world... however different those worlds may have been. 

You grew more curious with each passing day, gradually becoming fascinated not only with Taehyung, but with his version of you. You liked her. She seemed wiser then than you were now, and you wondered which path she took to become that at this age. She was impressive. A lifetime ago “you” had enough courage to change your career’s direction halfway through college, from journalism to medicine, realizing you wanted to take care of people the way you helped Taehyung through some rough fighting aftermaths. You still loved to do research and write, and the boy confessed that watching you mull over the right order of words was very calming.

At least, “the current you” was wise enough to bite her tongue and not ask Taehyung and excessive amount of questions... most of the time. Yes, he wouldn’t bet an eye and just rationalize your curiosity, coming up with an explanation on his own (you had a feeling that he often settled on “a semi-subtle check-up of his memory for a medical record”), but Namjoon gave you specific instructions that you had to follow... or try to follow. It was hard when Taehyung lit up like a Christmas tree every time you answered “fine” to his question of “how are you today, beautiful?” That’s an odd reaction, right? So you had to ask. As it turned out, a couple of years ago you and Taehyung came to a conclusion that being “fine” is way better than being “great! excellent! happy!” Why? Because every time you feel happy, inevitably, you also feel that ounce of fear that that feeling will soon end. 

“I am always a little scared when I’m with you, though,” he confessed, and you felt your heart skip a bit. That goddamn charmer! What was even more infuriating is his complete obliviousness to the fact that one of the most romantic and smooth lines just came out of his mouth. Taehyung simply kept watching you with a gentle smile on his lips, absolutely loving the way you didn’t seem to know what to do with yourself. You kept avoiding his gaze, looking everywhere, but mostly at your lap. You were blushing furiously, all the way to the tips of your ears. And you were smiling so wide, you had to bite down on your lip to suppress it. Your painfully endearing shyness seemed to have awakened a strange sense of déjà vu within him, and you heard Taehyung hum softly beside you.

“What?” you asked, finally being able to look at him directly. 

“I don’t know,” the man shrugged, reaching out to play with your hair. “Somehow, it just felt like when we first started dating.” 

A sudden gust of nostalgia for something you’ve never known, never experienced hit you in the chest, quickly spreading to engulf your whole body and making you gasp in surprise. Anemoia’s the word, right? Dr. Kim was writing a paper on it at the moment. You could definitely help him with some interesting insight now, because your entire being was lovingly placed into another time and space. Almost the way a song that played at your prom takes you back to the night, so your body is momentarily tricked into believing that you are actually there. 

Only it wasn’t a song this time, it was a person. It was Taehyung that lead you to that feeling and made it last for more than a split second. You could taste the difference on the tip of your tongue as if the air around you really shifted into something tangible and full of memories. And you remembered how it felt to simply exist back then. How it felt to be you, living in your skin in another time... And it was your second or third date, yet you could still feel the butterflies just looking at him. Faint jazz music suddenly reached your ears, and you wanted to hum a tune that you’ve never heard before. 

Was it where Taehyung’s mind went? Did you feel the right things? You couldn’t possibly be sure, but nostalgia was never this striking or lasted that long. 

“You fully intend to keep making me fall for you, don’t you?” Taehyung whispered mindlessly, as if to himself, but the implication left you more breathless then seemed possible. There was a negative amount of air in your lungs now. “Over and over again,” he was closer somehow, fingers brushing your neck without a specific intention. He was just submitting to the pull he always felt near you. The one that makes you move and touch, and watch intently. It’s when you register every drop of her eyelashes, yet you don’t seem to notice yourself leaning in. The movement is barely there, but oh wow, it’s impactful. “I have to say, I don’t mind one bit.” 

You feel his words on your lips now. They are full of breath that you lack, and it would be almost too delicious to make him share it. You had the chance to be selfish in the most acceptable and pleasant way. But... You simply wouldn’t come back from it. You would be going for seconds every chance you got. But... 

You make him fall deeper in love? This you? This present-time-you? The thought was dangerous with how flattering it was, making your heart stutter. Taehyung’s eyes were already closed and he was angling his head slightly, looking like the angel he is. Gentle, even if a little impatient. Meanwhile, you felt like a mess. Overwhelmed and very conflicted. You swallowed and shut your eyes tightly, already scowling at what you were about to do. And when did your breath come back, making your chest heave this heavily? 

“Tae?” 

“Yes?” he sounded so shaken by mere anticipation, you had to keep yourself from whining and giving in. It was just cruel how undeniable his need for you was. 

“I need to go back to work,” the broken exhale that he let out was bound to haunt your dreams. You didn’t look back as you walked away.

You couldn’t figure him out. You couldn’t “predict” him. It seemed like he instinctively dodged every romantic comedy cliche. There were countless melodramatic tropes paved for him, but he always chose to swerve and draw his own patterns. You imagined, he was always the kid that, on his way home from school, would be tempted to mark the perfect white canvas of fresh snow with his footprints - and would do it too, eventually, dragging his feet through the deep drifts - while everyone else just followed the padded path. 

Taehyung didn’t seem upset or hurt. He didn’t question your escape nor did he try to make you feel guilty about it. As if the boy refused to see that hurried exit of yours as the door being shut in his face, and, instead, saw it as your trauma of almost loosing him melting away a little more. To Taehyung, your soul needed just a little more convincing before letting him in again and trusting that nothing will happen that could put his life at risk. Not if he could help it. 

Apparently, the key point of his strategy was to remind you of how good and fun you were together, often acting like teenagers in love with total disregard for whether the time and place were appropriate. Yet, your displays of affection never crossed the line into something provocative or deprecated. True to his pure and innocent nature, Taehyung’s “moves” always looked playful and, dare you say, cute in everyone’s eyes, with your overflowing fondness towards each other making people around you go “aww”. 

And the boy would definitely be lying if he said that your flustered appearance and blushing cheeks didn’t make it that much more fun for him. 

“You should be more careful next time, Mrs. Lee,” since you were helping with Taehyung’s bandages more often and leveled up your nursing skills training on him, it wasn’t a rare occurrence for you to look after other patients as well. 

“I know, dear. I guess the kettle was just too heavy for me,” the old woman sighed as you wrapped her burnt wrist carefully. Mrs. Lee was a sweet lady - always put together and endlessly welcoming - but a bit too clumsy for her own good. It was her third minor injury this week. Previously, she managed to hit her toe against the bed frame and get a pretty nasty paper cut on her thumb. Ouch. Her soul thought it was 1920s, so maybe people were more careless about their health back then. 

“There you are!” Taehyung’s booming voice entered the room before the man himself burst inside, and you didn’t miss the way Mrs. Lee’s eyes lit up. She adored him. Everyone did. “Good morning, Mrs. Lee! New day - new adventure, I see. I’m glad you keep my fiancée on her toes,” Tae winked, and you heard the woman actually giggle. The power he possessed was truly boundless.

“I do what I can,” Mrs. Lee was full on beaming now - bright and happy - the pain in her wrist seemingly forgotten. You smiled to yourself too, finishing up the procedure. 

“Mornin’, beautiful,” Taehyung lowered his voice, and it took less than a second for you to start blushing. Blood rushed to your face somewhere between his breath hitting your ear and his lips briefly pressing to your temple. You were used to a lot of “Taehyung things” by this point (barely): holding Taehyung’s hand, brushing Taehyung’s hair while he slept, Taehyung’s fingers dancing across your back while you worked. Always teasing. Sometimes tickling. Like right now. Up and down. Up and down. Down. Down, down. Wait, what?

“Taehyung!” you gasped. He pinched you! He pinched your butt! 

Your hand flew to cup the “violated area” (on pure reflex) as you turned, wide-eyed, to Taehyung, who was clearly trying his best to stifle the fit of giggles. He had the audacity to look surprised by your animated reaction, like it wasn’t his intention all along. Oh, he was so amused! The boy quickly hid his hands behind his back as if trying to dispose of the evidence, but you were already on a mission to give him a piece of your mind. 

“Out!” you grabbed Taehyung’s arm and proceeded to drag him out of the room, unwilling to scold the men in front of another patient. 

“Mrs. Lee, save me!” he pleaded, not really trying to put up a fight, even though he definitely could. 

“You are on your own, young man,” the older lady just laughed and, rather entertained, waved the two of you a goodbye.

“What the hell, Taehyung?” you whisper-screamed as soon as the door closed behind him. Your “disapproving wife” mode was all the way on, and you didn’t even know it was a part of your settings in the first place. Taehyung took in your crossed arms and furrowed eyebrows, feeling strangely endeared. Let’s keep it going for a bit, he thought. “That was really inappropriate!” 

“Well, if you didn’t scream like that, she wouldn’t even notice. So, objectively, this is your fault,” he argued, mimicking your irritated posture.

“Objective- !? Don’t do this around other patients!” you hissed back, now vaguely aware of the fact that Taehyung was probably messing with you. 

“Does it mean I can do it when we are alone?” the boy not-at-all-subtly wiggled  his (gorgeous) eyebrows and stepped closer, placing his hands on your waist. 

“Well, not anytime soon. You’ve ruined it for yourself,” you were still frowning - in a desperate attempt to appear mad - but your lips were starting to angle up in a smile, treacherously so. 

“You are mean,” he pouted. Well, that’s not fair. 

“And you are childish.”

“You like it though,” somewhere, in the back of your mind, you were painfully aware of how it all looked. Your palms rested peacefully on his chest, and you smiled at each other without saying a word, yet understanding everything. ‘I do like it. I can’t help it.’ You were in love. Really, really, really in love. “And you are right. It was inappropriate. I’m sorry. I just wanted to tease you and took it too far. It won’t happen again.”

“Thank you,” you sighed and leaned forward, so his lips effortlessly pressed to your forehead. You were so screwed. 

After escaping Taehyung’s warm embrace (quite reluctantly), you snuck back into the room. The door clicked upon closing, and you were met Mrs. Lee’s knowing smile. 

“Is Taehyung in trouble?” she asked, but, if your own tender smile was any indication, he very obviously wasn’t. You still shook your head ‘no’ and averted your eyes, suddenly shy. The woman laughed quietly at your timidity, while you busied yourself with her wrist. Taehyung’s little “tease” interrupted your work in quite a dramatic way, so you weren’t even sure if the task was completed properly. “Be glad he’s still playful. That boy has eyes only for you. I can tell.”

If you were blushing before, now your face caught on fire. It was one thing to experience Taehyung’s absolute devotion yourself, but to have it pointed out by someone else was another feeling entirely. Once again, you couldn’t help but think that your past-life-self got really lucky with him. Oh.

“How did he propose?” the question halted your movements for a split second. Oh. How did he propose? That’s right. You didn’t know. Because it wasn’t to you. The blush on your cheeks fainted, and you suddenly felt cold. It was so easy to smile just a second ago, but now you had to put in a tremendous effort in order to appear unaffected. Though, if you listened closely, you could still feel your soul sighing in content from having Taehyung so near and so warm, and not so long ago. A bittersweet feeling, but it helped. 

“It’s almost time for your check up with Dr. Kim. How about we save that story for later?”

Mrs. Lee nodded, a little upset, and you couldn’t blame her. You’d love to hear all about it yourself. It would hurt even more, sure, but if you were to bet your life on anything, you’d bet it on Taehyung organizing the most wonderful and romantic proposal in the history of mankind. You didn’t dare coming up with something of your own right now, because it simply wouldn’t compare. 

Millions of thoughts and questions flooded your mind even before you left Mrs. Lee’s room. It wasn’t really you Taehyung was in love with. Of course, it wasn’t. It was another girl that shared your soul and looked like you. But then... Were you essentially your soul? Did it matter what life made of the rest of you? Was Taehyung in love with your soul exclusively? He said it himself. He was falling deeper in love with you. 

Taehyung’s beloved soul was your soul. It was just a lifetime older than he thought. 

“Y/N?” Namjoon’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts, and, after looking around for a second, you numbly discovered that your feet didn’t carry the rest of your body too far away from the door. “You okay?” 

You nodded, but he didn’t seem convinced. The man was probably on his way to Mrs. Lee, so you had to pull yourself together as to not hold him up. 

“Could you, please, stop by my office later? I’d like to talk to you.”

“Sure,” you managed a verbal response this time. Short and sweet. Nice job all around, but it still earned you a concerned look from Namjoon. He regarded you for another moment, then nodded, disappearing behind the door a second later. 

You probably should’ve blinked at least once.

It turned out that Dr. Kim unintentionally witnessed the quiet and sweet moment you shared with Taehyung outside Mrs. Lee’s room. The hospital hall could be considered a public place, so the display of affection wasn’t meant to be hidden, yet, Namjoon felt as if he was prying on an intimate exchange. That foreign feeling made him stop and pay attention to something besides science (though, implicitly, the issue at hand was related to it), which said a lot. He was notoriously unaware of... He was notoriously unaware. Period. 

That, combined with faint mental notes he made while reading your reports, pushed Dr. Kim to invite you to his office for a private conversation. The way your descriptions of Taehyung’s past and present increased in poetic value as the time went on never really bothered Namjoon, because he could always work around that and still get a lot of valuable information. Plus, your expressiveness made it into a good read. 

Your every word became more vibrant and meaningful after he saw the way you looked at your fiancé. You were a terrible actress, and no one knew it better than Kim Namjoon. The man wasn’t being overly dramatic when he confessed to having nightmares in which your acting was so bad that it made Taehyung “snap out of it” and leave. Namjoon bet a lot on you. 

It was supposed to be a game of pretend, and he had to make sure it was still the case for you. Was Dr. Kim doing it for science? The man wasn’t sure himself. His research could still become groundbreaking, whether your heart ended up broken or not, but Namjoon just couldn’t stay unaware this time around. So now you were passing from wall to wall in his office, trying not to panic. Trying and failing. 

"How much longer will I have to play along? He wants... to do stuff, you know? I am his fiancée,” Namjoon glanced up from his papers, slight alarm in his gaze, so you hurried to clarify. “No, he doesn’t say or do anything. I just feel it.”

"Just tell him he's too weak for that," Dr. Kim shrugged, but then paused for a moment. It’s been a little less than three months. Taehyung was almost completely healthy. “Wait, actually, just tell him that it's against hospital policy. Or both.”

"That's what I tell him, but he's just so damn eager and responsive to everything I do! Not in a gross way, but still! What if he never comes back from it? What if I-,” fall in love before he wakes up? You didn’t finish the thought out loud, but your breathing was rushed and uneven, so he knew. He’s observant at the very least, but it’s more than that. You both knew. Namjoon was surprised at himself, and you were surprised to see his eyes so full of untapped emotion. He looked a little sad, but mostly worried. Maybe a tad bit apologetic. You hoped you imagined a drop of regret in the mix, because that’s what you didn’t feel, despite hurting. 

"Do you like him?" 

I’m in love with him.

"I do,” you said, defeated, yet, somehow, relieved by acceptance and the openness. For a split second you got scared that Namjoon would pull the plug on the research. “But let me do this. I will never hold it against you.”

The man appeared conflicted, but not nearly enough to drop all the progress you’ve made. To put the work of his life on hold. And you wouldn’t let Namjoon do it, even if he was ready to quit for your sake. You were his partner in crime, just as involved, and your “timeless lover” didn’t make you forget that. At least your heart would be broken for science.

"His feelings for you are not real. Not in this life. Please, remember that and be careful, Y/N".

Yeah. It was a little too late for that.

Maybe you overestimated your own determination to finish the research, or maybe it was harder not to pretend and be in love, with clear mind and a heavy heart. Maybe it was harder to accelerate, knowing that you were gonna crash. That, eventually, Taehyung would come to his senses and leave to live his life. 

Truth be told, you hoped it would happen sooner than later. Preferably before you married him, had kids and grew old together. Imagine trying to explain to someone where their whole life went and why another version of them got to live two.

To say that you were torn would be an understatement. Oh, how you wanted to just give in and love him, and be loved! It was agonizing, ironically so, because you couldn’t help but see it as the foreshadowing of the day that his love would be taken away from you, whether you decided to let yourself have it or not.

Your scale was looking more and more like the game of seesaw, refusing to balance, constantly tipping one way or the other. You went from being playful and engaged (no pun intended) to appearing cold and distant to everyone around you, not only Tae. The uncertainty was exhausting, to the point where you missed the days of just being awkward and nervous around “Taehyung the Patient”. Back when your love for him was only a memory that your mind would never be able recall, because, up until this point, it only echoed in the depths of your old soul.

There was no end to this back and forth, it seemed. But when, one day, you saw the way your internal turmoil affected the one you cherished the most, it became exceptionally easy to make a choice.

“Tae, I am leaving for the day,” you cracked open the door to his room and quickly scanned the space to make sure he was there. The lights were off, but as soon as your eyes got used to it, you found Taehyung standing by the window. It wasn’t an unusual sight, since he loved to admire the night sky every chance he got. The moon was full and visible for the first time in weeks, so, of course, the man was there to appreciate it in all its glory.

“See you tomorrow?”

On nights like this you always tried to say goodbye and make your exit swiftly, leaving Taehyung to have his moment of peace, but this time the boy’s profile didn’t seem serene to you. There was no dreamy smile playing on his lips. His eyes weren’t traveling from star to star, looking for constellations. Instead, his lips were stretched thin and pale, and probably bitten in worry. You could see that he was frowning, but the blank look in his eyes was the most concerning.

“Tae?” when he didn’t answer again, you stepped further into the room. The door creaked unpleasantly, pulling Taehyung from his thoughts. At the sight of you something in him moved, but stayed still. It felt like his soul immediately reached out for yours, and, for the first time, he didn’t let its urges guide him. The realization terrified you. He was uncertain. You hated it.

“Hey. Sorry, I didn’t hear you. Are you leaving?” Taehyung asked. He understood that you had to go home sometime, yet, it didn’t make him miss your presence less. The boy never wanted you to leave, and it was always obvious. Except now. Taehyung wasn’t sure if he wanted you to stay, because he wasn’t sure if you’d rather go. He hated it.

“Um, yeah. I was about to head out,” your thumb pointed towards the exit, but you proceeded to move forward and soon stopped, facing Taehyung by the window. “Is everything okay?”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t-“

“Tae,” you cut in, suddenly desperate to resolve whatever was troubling him. “You can tell me,” when your fingers moved across the windowsill to touch his, Taehyung held his breath, because you never really initiated physical contact before. Not like this. Your touch was always meant to comfort or calm him. You never did it, because you yourself craved the closeness. “Please, tell me.”

“It’s you,” Taehyung breathed, and your fingers froze millimeters away from his. It broke the boy’s heart a little, but he couldn’t keep his own muddle to himself anymore. Because you did initiate touches before. You were utterly selfish and demanding when it came to keeping him close, and it was so very charming, he couldn’t stand being away. Taehyung felt needed. Sadly, that car crash seemed to have broken something between you. And it split his life in two.

“I don’t recognize you,” for a moment you thought that his old memories were leaving him, confabulation gradually wearing off, but no. The memories of two lives weighed him down, conflicting and contradicting each other. It pained you to see him so lost.

“And I don’t feel like you recognize me, either. Most of the time you look at me like I am a stranger,” Taehyung’s voice started wavering, confused and sorrowful, as if the boy never imagined that he would be saying this to you. Your fingers moved again, completely on their own, to touch him. To comfort him. “At first I thought that, maybe, you were just in shock after the accident. Maybe, you thought you were going to lose me. And I get it, I do. I can see that you still love me,” oh, thank God, he saw it. You wouldn’t be able to live with yourself, if he lost his faith in your love - the only thing he wholeheartedly connected to in this world, in this time. “But it’s been months of up and downs, and I don’t understand, and- it’s just starting to hurt.“

Taehyung gasped a couple of seconds before your lips met his, because it was only the third of the things you did. First, you intertwined your fingers and tugged him closer. Second, your right hand flew up to rest on the back of his neck, pulling him down. Third. The moment fell into complete stillness as you stayed there, unmoving, with your lips pressed together way too tightly. If he was going to feel your kiss for the first time in months, you were going to make it count. You wanted it to leave a mark on his heart, deep enough to reach his soul.

And maybe that kiss felt like trying too hard at first - because, admittedly, you were a little desperate to heal his doubtful mind - but it all clicked into place, when his fingertips reached to touch the side of your face. Still unsure and nervous, but slowly starting to believe that it was really happening. In that moment, you heard your soul whisper something not so secret: it, and you, already knew how to kiss him right. You knew how to kiss Taehyung to make him smile. You knew how to kiss him to drive him crazy with want. You knew. So you pulled back to lessen the pressure, letting your lips move smoothly and tenderly against his. You knew how to kiss Taehyung to make him feel loved.

"Do I kiss the same?” you asked, breathless, hoping against all hope that you really did kiss his lips right now just as you kissed him a lifetime ago. The man swallowed shakily, nodding his head. Taehyung didn’t move away, not even a little, as if he simply missed the feeling of your breath on his skin. To him, there was something so singular and intimate about the face-to-face, skin-to-skin closeness and sharing the same air, that you never even had the “big spoon/little spoon discussion”. The pair of you always fell asleep and woke up facing each other, morning breath be damned.

“Yes. Yes, you do,” his hands cupped your face - understandably urgent, but still so very gentle - and he dove right back into the kiss. You had no choice but to keep up, because Taehyung seemed determined to have all the wasted time made up for. It wasn’t long before he lost himself in you: hands in your hair, fingers and thumbs; deep little sighs and sweet noises against your lips. The way Taehyung moved became almost chaotic as he tried to find some balance between holding you close and not breaking his ribs all over again.

While Taehyung was quick to melt into the kiss, you took your time, letting the inevitable impact build and build under your skin - with every slide of his lips, with every touch of his fingers - to, eventually, hit you all at once like a tidal wave. Taehyung wasn’t exploring you like this for the first time, (even though, judging by how eager he was, you wouldn’t be able to tell), but to you, in this body at least, it was the first. And, oh, what an absolutely maddening ride. To top it all off, you forgot to take into consideration that, as well as you knew how to make his body tick, Taehyung was just as knowledgeable about your weaknesses. Within minutes, naturally, he managed to make you mewl and pant, and tremble against him.

“Tae,” your attempt to pull away failed, so his name got muffled by his own mouth. You smiled at his unwillingness to stop kissing, but tried again, pushing lightly at his chest. Nightshift nurses took their duty seriously. “Tae, we should stop.”

The man made a faint noise of disapproval at the loss of contact, but nodded and gave you some space. It felt as if your lips would never stop buzzing.

“Sorry, it’s just,” he paused, catching his breath, and no one could understand him better than you. That was intense. “It’s been so long.”

Taehyung’s hold on your waist tightened, and you could feel those words coming. The anticipation in your chest was tangible, yet you’ve never felt more content.

“I love you.”

…

“I love you, too.”

Looking back, yes, it should have been an awkward interaction for you. By all accounts. Faking affection towards someone you barely knew, just to get data. Ridiculous. But… If someone asked you about it right now, you’d say that pretending to be in love with him was the easiest thing you ever had to do.

So you let yourself love Taehyung for another day. For another week. Trusted him with your heart completely, without caution or doubt. Became adorably clingy, just the way he remembered you. Whatever common sense that was left in your system was used to dodge the wedding plans discussions, and it was easier, too, because you could just kiss the boy into silence, and he would never complain about that or suspect anything. Taehyung just figured, you missed him just as much as he missed you. But, oh, how you wanted to indulge in those discussions sometimes. 

Namjoon still tried his best to forewarn and protect you, but, at the same time, he understood that it wasn’t his choice to make anymore or his place to judge your decision. All he could do was go through your daily reports and gather all information possible. No one could halt the research, simply because it became more than just a research to you. Namjoon did hope, though, that it would come to an end before the point where your heartbreak overshadowed the triumph of science.

And it did. 

“I will love you forever,” he said the night before, as a goodbye you both thought would only last till morning. You smiled, letting him kiss your forehead, and replied: “You better.”

Your coat wasn’t even off yet, when you spotted Namjoon coming out of Taehyung’s room. He was smiling to himself as he closed the door, and then his eyes found yours. Slowly, you moved towards him, even though Namjoon didn’t call. Not with words or gestures at least. The man’s smile turned into something undefinable, an anxious mix of dread and hopefulness. You finally stopped in front of him, eyes pleading. 

“He’s back,” Namjoon said, clearly, but why did it also sound like “He’s gone” to you? That must have been the somber undertones in his voice. 

“Oh,” you exhaled, fumbling with buttons on your jacket. Okay. It’s alright. You knew this was coming.

“He wants to talk to you,” the man continued, and, before you could panic, his hand landed on your shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “You are going to be fine.”

Namjoon looked deep into your wide, petrified eyes and smiled again, a lot warmer this time. His other hand lifted fluidly, and you followed its direction to breathe in... and breathe out. 

“Y/N,” Namjoon called, finally getting your gaze to focus on him. “Thank you. For everything.”

Your eyes suddenly watered, and you couldn’t help but smile at the man. He was your clarity and reason in all this madness. 

“No problem, Dr. Kim,” you raised your fist for him to bump, making the lovely dimples appear on his cheeks. “For science,” Namjoon laughed at that, and quickly bumped your awaiting fist, before wrapping you in a tight hug.

“For science.”

-

“Hey,” the door creaked right as you said that, making your whole body wince. Great start. It’s wasn’t a loud hey in the first place, so you prepared to say it again, oblivious to the fact that Taehyung’s attention was already on you. 

“Hey,” he echoed, straightening up a little. No longer oblivious, you let yourself look at him. He was sitting on the bed with a book in his hands, and you noted that it was opened on one of the later pages. He didn’t start from the beginning, but continued reading it. “Please, come in.”

The boy crossed his legs, making more room for you on the bed, but you moved to stand at the foot of it. He didn’t question your choice of position, wisely deciding to give you some much needed space. In that moment, it suddenly hit you that only yesterday you could come in and practically jump into his arms, starting Taehyung’s morning with a kiss. It wasn’t the case anymore. 

A moment of awkward silence stretched through the air, but, eventually, you gathered enough courage to speak first. 

“Do you remember-"

"I remember everything," Taehyung deadpanned, and you nodded, swallowing some of the nerves. Namjoon suspected he would. This was no ordinary case. “And I am glad I do.”

The addition made you look up from the floor. Taking a chance to study Taehyung closer, you didn’t expect to find the look in his eyes so... sympathetic. And curious. And anticipating. 

“Oh, God, Tae,” sudden embarrassment washed over you, and your hands came up to cover your flushed face. “I am so sorry. I feel so terrible-“

“What? Why are you apologizing?” Taehyung was taken aback, seemingly surprised by the outburst of guilt. Trying to explain your embarrassment was, somehow, even more embarrassing. 

“You weren’t in your right mind, and I sort of took advantage of that,” truth be told, you never saw it that way before. Not until you met the real Taehyung. “With all the kisses and touches. I should’ve stopped it. It’s your body, and I had no right-“ 

“No, no, no. I get it,” as if pulled by some force, the boy shuffled across the bed on his knees, eventually stopping in front of you. His fingers wrapped around your wrists, gently moving your hands away from your face. “You had to keep the story going for me. Dr. Kim explained everything.”

‘Right. Keeping the story going. That’s all it was,’ you thought ruefully, but said:

“Thank you for understanding,” it was easy to smile at Taehyung, even now, so you did. The boy smiled back, releasing your wrists, and, strangely, you didn’t feel like keeping distance between you anymore. “I feel a little less perverted.”

“Good. You should,” Taehyung nodded, looking proud of the fact that he didn’t let you think badly of yourself. “So,” the man shrugged innocently, letting his hands fall to rest of his thighs. “You said you sort of took advantage...,” Taehyung’s eyes glimmered mischievously, and you noticed his fingers tapping a playful rhythm on his lap. Wait... “Does it mean that you liked it? If it was to your advantage...”

Was he teasing you right now?

“Oh, wow. That was so bad,” you burst out laughing, which felt kind of anticlimactic, but so so needed. That’s Taehyung for you. The boy laughed along, showing off that infectious boxy smile of his. “How about I leave now, for awhile, and you come up with something better, okay?”

“Wait, wait,” Tae reached for your hand again, when you made a move towards the door. Both of you knew that you weren’t really leaving. “Do you want to get a cup of coffee? With me? Or tea? You like tea, right?” it’s like the boy wanted to prove that he remembered these things about you. It was sweet. 

“Tae, are you sure? I mean, it wasn’t really you who liked me-“

“I said I remember everything, and I really like what I remember. About you. About us. I mean, if anything, the question is did you like the-past-life me, because, let me tell you, he’s not that different from the guy standing right here.”

“Well, obviously. The soul is the same.”

“See? Something tells me you weren’t faking it, not all the time. Not when it mattered,” his words carried certain weight, like he not only remembered, but, miraculously, experienced everything that happened. “So, did you like him?” Yes. Easy. “Do you like me?” Ooh, a little tougher. He did look exactly the same. (Duh.) Yet, there was something that made him feel more aware, more awake. More... here.

“If you remember everything, like you said, then you should know the answer to the first question.” I loved him.

“I do,” Taehyung said, turning completely serious for a moment, and you were thankful that he didn’t take your feelings lightly. “That’s why I-,” the boy cut himself short and bashfully shook his head. Cute. “Sorry, nevermind. It’s cheesy and a little too far.”

“No, tell me,” you tugged at his hand, consequently realizing that it was still holding yours. The comfortable nature of it didn’t surprise you. “I’ll be the judge.”

"I think he left something with me, and,” Taehyung’s free hand landed on his chest, near his heart, emphasizing where the change happened. “Who knows, maybe we will prove that eternal soulmates exist too," the boy was beaming, so proud of his charming line, and you didn’t make him wait too long for a reaction. Your cheeks got much warmer, and you lowered your gaze, trying to hide a shy smile that threatened to hurt your jaw with how wide it was. 

“You were right. It is cheesy. But, maybe, not too far fetched.”

You cried yourself to sleep that night, realizing that, in some strange and gut wrenching way, you lost someone you loved. Forever. That bright and ridiculously romantic Taehyung from 1960s was gone. But you smiled before finally dozing off, thinking that you gained someone who could make you heart flutter just the same. Perhaps, equally bright and romantic. You just needed to give it a little time. 

You fell in love with Taehyung once. You could do it again. Namjoon still had to prove it, but his soul belonged with yours, and...

He promised to love you forever, after all. 

["thank you for stopping me, when i- uh, when i wanted to take things a little too far."

"um, yeah, no problem. though, i must admit, it wasn't too easy." 

"how so? was i- was i pushing you too much?"

"no! no. it's just that- sometimes, you and... what you did... made me forget about, well, everything."

"oh? ... OH! i see..."]

a/n: thanks for reading! i really hope you enjoyed! for more of my stories go for masterlist here and here. feedback, as always, is needed and will be very much appreciated.

if you like my stories, you can support me here: buy me a coffee ✨☕️

Copyright © 2019 by wonderer-ru. All rights reserved.