#I may Dream of being an author but I can’t tell the difference between short stories and poetry

[azraellytired]

-When they call her name

A story about my thoughts and feelings of my deadname.

———

Sometimes I still hear her name. I used to turn to answer when it was said.

I’d feel like such a fool, answering to a dead girl's name. I’d always say afterwards that one day I won’t turn when they call her name.

I hear her name echo around me, reverberating against the walls and bouncing back into my ears, filling my senses with a sense of joyful grief. Yet I’d still turn when someone said her name.

It’s like a bell calling out for me. Like a whistle getting the attention of a dog. And in the end i'm always the fool who fell for the tricks of a king.

That girl died years ago is what they said. I personally think she’s always been dead. A rotting, walking corpse driven by the strings of those around her.

They saw a lively child while I saw her for who she truly was. She was a corpse, with flesh hanging off her bones. Blood would leak from her heart and teeth would fall from their sockets.

I do not mourn that girl, because she never truly lived. Even if she breathed and walked and slept and ate, that was a dead little girl who didnt know why she didn't want to fit in.

Sometimes they still call her name. Sometimes they forget she’s dead. Some are in denial.

One woman said she’d get a tattoo with her initials on it and not mine. Because she is the one in her heart, and not me.

Some people pretend that I'm her. I haven't been her and never will be her. That girl is six feet under and yet they still call her name and get angry when I don't respond.

Some people have her name. I used to look when they said her name even if it wasn't about her. It would always catch me by surprise every time, like a shock to my system. Like being dipped into ice cold water after standing in a desert. It leaves me shaken and confused.

I know they’ll all rue the day I don’t respond when they call her name.

I don’t think everyone understands. They still hold tight onto that girl's skeletal hand where flesh had peeled off and drained her of her blood.

But her bones are rotting, her eyes have melted, and her brain has been turned to mush. The worms ate away at her pristine skin and her hair has disintegrated into dust. Yet they still hold onto her as if she’ll come back and say she's okay. But that girl's rotten soul fills the room with that rotten smell that leaves me gagging.

But despite her rotten appearance her name still is spoken with such ease you’d think she still breathes. As if her lungs haven’t collapsed and her tongue isn't full of holes.

I feel like they see her in me. But we’re as different as night is from day. We’re as similar as a fly is to a worm. It’s like saying rocks and water are the same thing.

But one day, I suppose something changed. Perhaps it was a blessing, or a gift from whatever otherworldly being is out there. But I did not turn when they called her name.

I guess this means she really is dead and gone, and that I no longer have to worry about her sour ghost following me around. It’s like her spirit finally moved on into the afterlife peacefully, with no argument. She got what she wanted, she’s finally nowhere and nothing at all. And I got what I wanted too.

After years of pain and a rotten stench in my nose;

I no longer answer when they call her name.

———

My names Azrael (or Azie for short) and I’m transmasc with family down in the south who don’t quite understand who I am. I express my feelings and emotions by writing them out in short stories such as this.

[kachuuyaa]

— ELYSIAN’S FUGITIVES.

06072021 ; g.i oneshot , gn!reader , bsd!reader

genre ; angsty fluff ig i dunno???

includes ; WISP!CHUUYA MAKES HIS APPEARANCE :D mentions of death, gore, gods, chuuya being cute (He Squeaks!) chuuya and reader meant to be REAL, literally just a first meeting between aether n you Italics is Japanese

synopsis ; The punishment from the gods is to be sent to Elysian, then banished into a never-ending cycle of paranoia.

author's notes ; U FINALLY MEET AETHER. wisp!chuuya is the best thing I have ever written ever I was mentally squealing because oh my oiguoidsp[';][][21P]2;\.,sdmNXK

You couldn’t count the days you have roamed Teyvat, it has been too long since then. For 60 years (it was 60 years, wasn’t it? You don’t remember anymore), you have not crossed any country’s border, only listening to their seemingly endless musings. You have never been out in the sea, tensity and uneasiness forming in the pit of your stomach whenever so. However, being isolated from the land the gods rule upon, has earned you a title. Your name is being whispered as a warning or a legend like a scripture formed with the wind. Some were afraid of you, while some respected you. It was pathetic, really, how desperate these people were compared to those in Yokohama. There was no point in dwelling in the past, now, was there? Despite receiving unwanted attention by passersby, you paid no attention to those who whispered your name like a mantra, spouting vile, vulgar assumptions about you. You realized-- quickly-- that they only think for themselves, not for the benefit of others. Wouldn’t that be the source of their demise? Well, you don’t linger on trivial topics for too long, it’s only fair for you to care only about yourself in a world you don’t belong in (you know you belong here now, yet you felt as if Elysian was better than this place they call home).

You have heard of the outlander who caught the wind, saving a foreign nation he seemed to have been in once, only, and you have let the news flow from one ear to another. Who were you to care? No one should catch your attention in a world full of insatiable people. Each step made the grass crunch, making your way to the foot of Dragonspine. Chuuya followed suit, and he settled himself on your head. You figured out that he could shapeshift, probably his punishment as well, yet so far, he has only shifted into a bird and a wisp. His wisp form wasn’t as elegant as you may think, a small, hooded figure encased in smoke-colored clothing, resembling the coat he used to wear. On top, there was a small black X-shaped symbol in the middle of his chest. Around his small form were orange particles, that remind you vividly of Chuuya's ability. A little hat, one you were familiar with, was situated on top of his small head. It was the hat he was wearing during his time as a mafioso, you deduced as such. The tiny creature lets out small squeaks of content, nuzzling itself on your head; seems like he thought it was a good pillow. A chuckle of amusement escapes your lips, turning your head around to watch the scenery in front of you. Dragonspine was one of your favorite places to visit during your free time, snow piling on top of another, making the white mountain as beautiful as it is. However, you do not venture into Dragonspine, not wanting to risk your life for creatures who seem to always take your time.

As much as you hate to admit it, you have most likely killed more hilichurls than you ever killed back in Yokohama. The songs of relentless, snow-covered winds never fail to make your unease and worry falter, even for a moment. The glacial scenery of the mountain attracted your attention, especially your first visit here. A few snowflakes settled themselves on your face, melting due to the heat emitting from your body. If you had the chance, should you tell your friends about the scenery, they would love it too, wouldn't they? You know they would, however, how would you know so? They’re gone, and so is your attachment to anything but Chuuya. “Do you like the scenery, Chuchu?” soft taps on your head were his response, indicating that he was displeased with the nickname you gave him. He agreed nonetheless, sitting on the palm of your hand. He squirmed, looking for a more comfortable position, and stilled after a while.

Memories of the past have always plagued your mind, reminding you that you were alone, again. Despite the copious memories you have stored away, none will bring you back to the place you have regarded as your home. For once, you have felt safe, all the while knowing death follows you wherever you go. Death was the dark, hollow cloak you wore while walking the path of dread in your past life, hands coated with the blood of another, and your eyes held the burden you were forced to carry until the day you died. The amount of blood was enough to shatter the dreams children told you to believe in, you were holding on the thinnest thread, one soaked with blood, your blood, reminding you how much you have suffered and how you made others weak, on their knees, while keeping a straight face as you watch the life draining from their faces. You have learned that life was unfair, gods turning a blind eye to the generation you were put in, leading the people to be self-reliant, causing resentment and disrespect to be aimed at those who call themselves “gods”.

Did they even exist? You have heard, and read, tell of what the gods and goddesses have done to provide, to give, and to sacrifice. Did they give up? Were they satisfied with what they have gotten? Has their insatiable lust for approval and desire to fulfill their selfish, carnal desires quenched? Did they only long for what they have desired, using their power to prove themselves better among the world of mortals? Were they not the selfless, kind gods described in the books of old? Nevertheless, you had no respect for the divine. You only had yourself to depend on since the start. You controlled your own death, knowing that when you died, it was time. You could have stopped yourself from fading, though, but you were tired, you let it happen. And though you know that your death will be remembered, not in the history books, but in the Port Mafia, you will be forever remembered.

59 years have passed. There is no time to dwell in the past, all you have is the memories you swear to protect. Your fight with immortality has been futile, leaving you to bask in your own presence for 59 years. That is until Chuuya finally found you. And you? You found him. It wasn’t expected for you to know who he was, a mere spirit cursed by gods above to wander a world he was unfamiliar with. He was stripped of Arahabaki, leaving him with only his outermost ability, “For The Tainted Sorrow”. He didn’t mind, as well, Arahabaki resides within him, giving him a sense of dread, and leaving him with his identity that he can’t seem to solve. Arahabaki has forever stained him as blood stained your hands, giving him scars that will never leave him. In that life, and in the next. He had you, sweet, malevolent, outstanding you. Though he never voiced it out, he felt, well, complete, to say the least. And while feeling detached from not being completely human has affected him far too much, you were there to make him feel-- what did you make him feel, really? He can’t decipher his own feelings as his own identity. In all the years he has roamed this world as an insignificant wisp of the wind, he found himself tangled in another adventure with the “most insufferable partner aside from Dazai”.

Your footsteps were carried by the wind, walking to the City of Mondstadt, again, Chuuya on your shoulder, scanning the area for any enemies or the like. You were currently looking for food, choosing to shop in Mondstadt instead of catching wildlife. Each step has your coat moving from one side to another, boots making the grass crunch in every step. “Ne, Chuuya, do you want to buy pancakes from Mond?” you whispered, voice soft, only for Chuuya to hear. Said wisp only nods its small head, his little hood moving ever so slightly while he nods. Deciding that it would be best for him to rest, you put him in your breast pocket, his little head poking just a bit. Chuuya softly squeaked, nuzzling on the fabric, and opted to rest despite his unsaid protests. But before you could set foot onto the City Of Freedom, a high-pitched voice prevented you from doing so. “Hey!” they said, you whipped your head to the direction you heard it from, spotting a seemingly young-looking traveler, and a floating pixie-- wait.

Isn’t he the honorary knight? You thought to yourself, unconsciously cupping the pocket Chuuya resides in, feeling him squirm when he came in contact with your gloved palm. Instead of giving them a response, you simply stared at them, eyes glimmering with amusement. “Hi.” a simple, short greeting. Although you would prefer to ask the traveler some questions, that wouldn’t be necessary. You were able to decipher every detail easily, too easily, in fact. Aether, however, wasn’t fazed. He was well aware of how they described you, and how notorious you were due to appearance. Scoffing at the assumptions, he looked forward to meeting you. Perhaps he will look forward to his endeavors with you by his side, no? A star sent from Elysian would only brighten the mortal world, cursed with divine power and lonesome memories.

However, you did not know that a simple greeting exchanged on your first day of the meeting would bloom into something much more.

Ah, it seems that the show is starting once again, a different chapter, a different genre.

2021 © kachuuyaa. all rights reserved. do not steal and claim my work as your own.

[opalescient]

haikyuu fic recs — the most beautiful, lovely, breathtaking masterlist (vol. I)

so i’ve been binging fics to cure my sadness, and i thought that these select masterpieces were too magnificent to not be plastered on every billboard ever. some tore my soul into shreds, while others melted said shreds back whole, but all of them made me feel some form of sheer, unadulterated love, so. please enjoy! 🥰⛅️✨

note: all of these fics are exquisite and you should read all of them, but if you’re short of time, those with ☆ are my all-time favourites!

daisuga

butterfly in the subway by bigspoonnoya ☆ | T

Sugawara Koushi has no idea he's already in love with the man he's supposed to hate.

i lovelovelove how all the concepts tied in together like a perfectly wrapped gift

also very wholesome, made me feel so inexplicably warm. like, love can exist everywhere!!! despite everything!!! that’s just so inspiring

i revisited this many times, i think it was (one of) my first haikyuu fics and honestly. it set the bar so high and i have no regrets

you’d fit my lonely arms so perfectly by boxofwonder ☆ | G

“Oh. You're. Not Asahi.”

Calmed down enough that he can speak again, Daichi takes a deep breath, his smile settling on his face easily and wide.

“Not as far as I know, no.”

-

Suga accidentally calls a stranger instead of his best friend, tells him all about his burned batch of cookies before realising, and that particular mistake might turn out the best one he ever made.

major, major fluff

the buildup!!!

god this made my yearning for love so much worse

the perfect stranger by downmoon | T

There’s a man standing outside Suga's door.

Scratch that. Start over.

There’s a man he doesn’t know standing outside his door, holding his sleeping nephew in one arm, with another kid clinging tightly to his free hand.

so domestic please read the entire series from start to finish it has my whole heart

shoyou and tobio as their actual kids 🥺

these two parents are so in love it makes me wanna cry

asanoya

silica sand by lilien passe ☆ | G

Overworked, over-stressed programmer Azumane Asahi works on the top floor of a Shinjuku skyscraper. Nervous around his coworkers and terrified of the long drop on the other side of the window, Asahi falls into a miserable routine, only to have it broken one day by a simple message on the outside of the glass.

PLEASE. so well-written it makes my heart glow and ache simultaneously

made me ascend into asanoya heaven

such a brilliantly unique concept i love it A+

qué syrah syrah by loudlucy | M

Asahi wants to be a Master Sommelier. It's the highest honor in wine service, and the certification would allow him to live the life he's always envisioned for himself. Too bad the certification test is notorious for being the world's most difficult.

Most people fail their first time taking the exam, and Asahi is no exception, but he has more difficulty than most dusting himself off and getting back on his feet. Enter Nishinoya, a young man who shares his same dream, and who believes in their goals so fiercely it forces Asahi to embark on a delicious and sensuous journey of viticulture and validation.

AKA The Wine Tasting AU that literally no one even knew to ask for.

NOTE: You Do Not Need to Know About Wine to Understand This Fic!

another super unique concept!!! (´∀｀=)

my god their chemistry is amazing

the writing made me feel things ngl

stop my bones from wondering by cerasi ☆ | T

After graduation, Asahi hides from the world and needs help from a few sources to find his way back.

i want to write sonnets and sing ballads for this fic, it’s that beautiful

as always, Top Notch Writing *chef’s kiss*

no but i seriously... can i kiss the author? asking for a friend 😳👉🏼👈🏼

iwaoi

star-crossed by starlitcities | T

“I never thought I’d see the day that I’d envy a human,” Oikawa admits, showering himself in tiny suns, because he can actually feels those, like a fusillade of warm kisses on luminous skin that leave marks. To humans, they’d be freckles. Skin stars, Oikawa calls them. He didn’t make that up, a human did.

“Who created the rule that we can’t touch, I wonder,” Iwaizumi ponders, floating heedlessly through space.

“Maybe it’s because we can fly. Humans dream of flying, right?”

“I don’t think so.”

gsjsgsjshsjshsjsj star!iwaoi

they’re LITERALLY STARS

beautifulbeautifulbeautiful i love how the author conveyed the beauty of touch and humanity 🥺🥺

please bless yourself further with the sequel sun-kissed

conquering the great king by suggestivescribe ☆| E

Iwaizumi blinked his gaze over to Oikawa, "Last time was supposed to be a one time thing," he said, voice low, lacking some conviction.

Oikawa's lips twitched into a smirk and he brought them hovering just over Iwaizumi's, "One time thing, Two time thing, what's it matter as long as it's not a Relationship thing?"

yes.

in fact, this entire series (breaking the rules) features daisuga, kuroken, asanoya and it’s SO GOOD. every single one.

but anyway, character development!!!!! plot!!!!!!!!! writing!!!!!!!! i’m here for it all

tsukkiyama

campfire in your chest by deanpendragon ☆ | M

Kei realizes in their second year of high school that he’s probably been in love with Yamaguchi since they were ten. However hopeless he might be in handling that situation, Kei prays he’s at least not as hopeless as Hinata and Kageyama. But he just might be.

SO BEAUTIFUL

i am also a sucker for anything with stars, moons and all the love in between

no words to describe this work of art please just go read it and be blessed

under the lilac tree by raewrites | G

there’s a lilac tree in Kei’s backyard.

gorgeous in its simplicity

softtsukkisofttsukkisofttsukki

not as grandiose as the rest but the love written into every word, action and character is absolutely show-stopping

kagehina

saffron and cayenne pepper by dontsaycrazy ☆ | T

Cooking is hard. Even if you have your very attractive, very grumpy neighbor there to help you.

-

In which Hinata's lack of cooking skills are a danger to him and others. Luckily (or not), Kageyama is willing to teach him, if only for the sake of avoiding any burned down apartments.

the essence of their characters were captured so well and yet it’s like they’re completely new characters too? author, whoever you are, you totally owned this

this made me ship kagehina so hard

fluff! cuteness! lots and lots of cooing!

kuroken

the galaxy is endless (i thought we were, too) by cosmogony ☆ | T

soulmate

/ˈsəʊlmeɪt/ • noun

A person who was made from the same star as you.

-

// Kuroken AU where the last words your soulmate will say to you appear on your skin when you turn 16, and how Kenma and Kuroo learn what this means over the course of their lives.

ahhh here it is. beautiful, heartbreaking, soul-emptying agony. you want angst? choke on this, and your tears later on.

no but seriously please read this if you haven’t you won’t regret it at all i promise

written from kenma’s perspective so you experience every depth and multitude of emotion he does and it’s so raw and- brb imma go cry for a sec

knot in my heart by hearthope | T

There’s a picture. Kenma blinks, looking at the little calico cat, being held up next to the face of a guy with stupidly messy hair and a crooked grin.

Cute.

The— the cat. The cat is cute.

Just the cat.

-

Kuroo starts spending a lot of time at the flower shop Kenma works at. Kenma definitely isn't into him.

okay so i like it when authors unravel a normally stoic character’s full scope of emotion and give them depth, sue me.

anyway, back on the fluff train!

i absolutely f*ck with flower symbolisms, cats and bitchy best friends who have dirt on each other. the layers of romance, friendship and everything in between is so prettily developed 10/10

bokuaka

the jacket you never returned by daisuga ☆☆ | G

He leaned over, kissed Bokuto on the cheek, and smiled bitterly, eyes watery.

He will never remember. Not now, not ever.

What they were will now forever be forgotten.

-

"You used to call me Keiji, Koutarou."

YOU USED TO CALL ME KEIJI, KOUTAROU!!!!!!!!!!

i beg you to listen to Spiegel im Spiegel when it’s first mentioned in the story please

i read this and screamed through my tears for a solid 1.5 hours. i rarely cry.

no f*ckin regrets though i read this thrice already and it hurts so good every time

rules by conesofdunshire ☆☆ | E

In which Akaashi Keiji is an overworked accountant who stumbles upon Bokuto one night playing the piano in the lobby of his work. Bokuto is different, that much is obvious. But with such supreme musical talent and a smile so dazzling it rivals the sun, there's just something about him that brings Akaashi back every night.

this fic. this fic has my whole, broken, sobbing heart and laughing soul

gorgeous. breathtaking. magnificent.

bokuto is so WARM and akaashi is so STRONG and they both find the solace they need in each other and it’s all i want for me 😭😭😭

in another life by littleluxray | T

Sleeping didn't come as easy as it used to. Bokuto knew this, and now Akaashi did, too.

The hospital AU that no body asked for, but that I took upon myself to write.

this is a famous fic that i doubt any seasoned haikyuu reader wouldn’t know, and RIGHTLY SO BECAUSE, the PAIN. the pain. the pain.

i could feel my lungs shrivel up and my chest cave in on itself. fatigue and rest are things i struggle with too so this whole story resonated with me from start to finish, and it broke me. in like, the best, most revitalising way

i would read this again but it still haunts me at night. i need to heal from the first time before i have the guts to try one more time HAHAHA 😆💔😭

tea-stained polaroids by dalyeau | G

“I'm gonna date that,” Bokuto declares solemnly, and Kuroo throws a plastic spoon at his head.

mmmmmmm pretty photographer + personalised coffee cups + cute baristas = diabetic fluff fic

i smiled so much throughout this you have no idea. cheeks achey but so good

i may have squealed a little at the ending

kurotsukki

moonfall by batman | T

There is no unlearning Tetsurou, after all. There is only leaving him.

-

(Five things of Tetsurou's that ended up in Kei's home, and one that never left.)

the writing!!!!!! is pure beauty!!!! sheer grace!!!!!!! the construction of the AU and the romanticism and hsjsgsjshsj

didn’t cry but. heart ache and bittersweet smiles are another level of misery that is just as fulfilling

yea just pleasepleasepleaseplease go read it thank you and have a good day

hidden gem by realmSpinner | E

Things get complicated when everything you thought you knew about a guy changes, and they get even more complicated when you actually start liking those changes.

That guy working with you AND becoming your neighbor? That's just a cherry on top of the cake of confusion.

this AU was refreshingly different, and amazingly so

top!tsukki??? sign me the f*ck up

the whole plot, man. perfection.

pings by barfs ☆☆ | T

[5/02/16, 3:50:17 AM] Tsukishima Kei: Please wake up.

[5/02/16, 3:50:23 AM] Tsukishima Kei: I hate begging. You know I hate it.

[5/02/16, 3:50:34 AM] Tsukishima Kei: I bet you’re snickering at that, wherever you are.

[5/02/16, 3:50:53 AM] Tsukishima Kei: But, it keeps hurting and I don’t know why and it feels like shit and I know you could tell me why, but you’re not here and I would really appreciate it if you’d just wake up.

[5/02/16, 3:51:02 AM] Tsukishima Kei: You’re laughing at that too, aren’t you.

[5/02/16, 3:51:10 AM] Tsukishima Kei: Dying is probably up there in the list of top ten shitty things you’ve ever done, and you’ve done a lot of shitty things.

god.

you already know what’s coming, and yet. when it comes.

how the f*ck did the author make grief beautiful????????? (at the expense of me dying along with kei and everyone else i guess)

this fic will ruin you and bury you under all your pain (i hope you’re ready)

but also put you back together with the “sequel”

kyouhaba

close to the chest by darkmagicalgirl | T

It takes Yahaba thirteen years to realize he's different from the other kids, one to figure out how to hide it, and two more to learn to be happy just the way he is. Yahaba's journey ft. an extremely annoyed Kyoutani, best friend in the world Watari, and loads and loads of good senpai Oikawa.

cause i’m (not) alright with the slow, burn~

no fr, take slow and burn very seriously

overthinking yahaba? i understand. i do.

again, such an amazing fic; 10/10 recommend

safe here by crossbelladonna ☆ | M

“Raids are routine work,” Kyoutani tells to Yahaba before he can air the question. “Sometimes there is no sleep done until we accomplish something, say kill a certain ghoul. I guess they’re still going through the possibility that people in the accident are still alive huh?”

Yahaba quirks a smile, pushing his mask up his head.

“You’re alive.”

Kyoutani looks at him intently and all of the things that they’ve gone through for the past month seems to flash in his mind.

“Yes I am.”

i haven’t watched tokyo ghoul but i understood everything perfectly. such is the power of f*cking kickass writing

*cue ugly crying and a lot of unresolved angst*

like the grief??????? ruin me please thank you 🙏 (i think i’m a little masochistic)

rare pairs

mannequin men by surveycorpsjean ☆ | M

[bokuto/akaashi/kuroo/tuskishima]

The modelling world is full of hungry wolves, constantly clambering over the other, snarling and desperate. They fight, and they kill, trampling over anything in their path.

In this case, Akaashi fell in love with the wolves.

i did not expect this to be good, and it wasn’t. it was SPLENDID.

akaashi is so enamoured with them from the get go i love it

a tiny bit of angst that stabbed me in the heart, but the happy ending soothed it (thankfully, because if there wasn’t one i will sue)

characterisation, writing, plot development; everything is great. can you tell i’m running out of synonyms for ‘beautiful’

feel like gold by heronfem ☆☆ | T

[bokuto/akaashi/kuroo/kenma]

In which Kenma is unapologetic and comfortable with who he is, Akaashi learns a lot about himself in a short period of time, Kuroo is wildly in love and an eternal survivor, and Bokuto remembers that love doesn't cure mental illness, but having a support system sure helps a lot.

Or, the one where 4 young men get together, and are helplessly, hopelessly, utterly in love despite everything.

e.e. cummings?? poetry??? f*ck yes

so beautiful. i’m so star-struck by this fic it’s simply stunning

there are no words to fully capture how worth your time and heart and mind reading this fic is so please. do yourself a favour, and fall in love with this fic with me

the sky and guilt are the only feelings i have left by oopsthisisqueertoo ☆☆ | not rated

[bokuto/akaashi/kuroo]

Akaashi is at his wits end. He feels nothing. He's quickly crumbling as a human being. He wants nothing but sweet release of death. In his fourth year of college he drafts a plan for his suicide. He is to graduate, publish writing for others to be inspired by, and slip quietly away. Shortly after, he meets a dog walker named Bokuto who asks him out and Akaashi reluctantly agrees. Nothing matters anymore and he treats Bokuto like an obligation. Until he's not anymore.

TW: SUICIDE ATTEMPTS & DEPRESSION

this was... this gutted me entirely and filled my body with too many shades of agony

arguably one of the best haikyuu fics i’ve ever read

so beautiful in the most painful way fathomable; strongly recommend

april to may by surveycorpsjean | T

[bokuto/akaashi/kuroo/tsukishima]

They're an odd family.

The four of them? Parents?

But still, they're a family.

So they'll support each other until the end.

aaahhhhh third gym as parents 🥺

so much fluff. i also love april and may

they’re still so in love there’s love in every millimetre of this fic :”)

that’s it for now! i’ll add more if i come across anymore good fics. i hope you enjoyed this list! if you have any requests/fic recs, or if u just wanna chat, feel free to just ask! hehe 🥰 k aight bye~

[galactic-magick]

I Choose You: Kyoya Ootori x Reader

Summary: Your parents and the Ootoris set up an arranged marriage between you and Kyoya for business reasons.

Words: 3100+                                          

Warnings: swearing, angst

Author’s Notes: uhhhh so my hand slipped and I wrote a whole ass Kyoya fic cuz I love that bitch I’m not sorry. (btw normal text is present and italics are flashbacks. Gender neutral pronouns and language for reader!)

-

-

-

Your reflection in the mirror haunts you. It hurts. You can’t pretend it’s all a nightmare anymore, this is your reality. The reality you didn’t choose.

But maybe you would if the circumstances were different.

Servants, tailors, and seamstresses are fluttering all around you, making adjustments to your wedding ensemble. It looks perfect, more than perfect. It’s everything you ever wanted, and it looks amazing on you. You continue to stare at yourself in the mirror, knowing how proud your parents would be when you walked to the front of the wedding ceremony. They would be happy, even if you weren’t.

Your parents business has been failing for months now, and they needed to fix it fast. The Ootori family agreed to help if you married their youngest son as a symbol of the partnership. Of course your parents wouldn’t threaten you if you didn’t do it, but you knew how much they needed it. You’ve always known there was a chance you’d end up in an arranged marriage anyway, even if you’ve also always dreamed of love. You were willing to give up a love marriage in order to help them, and after all, you could certainly do worse than Kyoya. You knew he’d treat you well and provide for you, and quite frankly you couldn’t imagine him caring enough to hurt you or bother you.

 “Thank you so much again for making this deal with us,” your father nodded.

“Of course. Your company has quite a few valuable prospects,” Mr. Ootori smiles.

You gazed at Kyoya across the room, who’s barely made any eye contact with you the entire time. You could tell he wasn’t thrilled about this either, but there was something else, something more than disinterest. Was it anger? Determination?

“Shall we leave them alone for a bit? They should get to know each other better if they’re going through with this, don’t you think?” your mother suggested, gesturing to you.

“Certainly,” Mr. Ootori sat up and left the room, your parents following soon after and shutting the door.

“So…” you started, trailing off. What was there even to say?

Kyoya shot up from his chair and began pacing around the room, settling for a few moments by the window but soon going right back to pacing. He chewed his pen a bit, occasionally scribbling things down on his notepad.

“Are you okay?” you asked.

He continued to ignore you, deep in thought.

“Look, I get that you don’t like me, but can we at least talk? I’m going to have to live with your ass for the rest of my life you know,”

“It’s not that I don’t like you,” his eyes finally met yours, almost so much it was frightening. “You’re quite attractive actually and I don’t see any reason we wouldn’t get along. But that doesn’t negate the fact that this was forced on us. We have every right to be angry,”

You were stunned that the first thing he said to you was so direct.

“I mean, I guess so,”

“My father doesn’t know how much power I truly have over his company. We could take it from him and make our lives whatever we want. We could continue to work together or we could separate if that’s what you desire. They’ll be sorry for forcing their will on their children,”

“What about my parents?”

“What about them?”

“They’ll go bankrupt without this deal. They’ll lose everything,”

“Their deal is with the company, not my father. Once I become the head I’ll make sure they get what they need,”

Damn, he really had all this planned out.

“How long will we be married before you do all this?”

“It will take at least a year, possibly two. Too quick and we’ll raise suspicion, too slow and we’ll miss our chance,”

You nod. It made sense, but you couldn’t help but feel cheated. He didn’t care about you in the slightest, he was simply using this unfortunate marriage situation for his own gain and revenge. What were you supposed to do for the short time you were married? Sit around his mansion and wait?

You huff, “Look, I’m glad you’re getting some good out of this, but don’t you think we should at least try to be friends? I’m not just going to sit here and be a tool for your masterplan. Whether you like it or not, we’re going to be partners for a while and I’d rather not spend it being bored,”

Kyoya blinked. Clearly he didn’t calculate any sort of relationship into his plan, and the fact you weren’t blindly going along with it confused him.

You roll your eyes, “Can’t we at least go out to dinner a few times? You know, talk a little bit?”

“That sounds dangerously close to a date,”

“So what if it is? You said yourself you think I’m attractive and you think we’d get along,”

“I suppose I did,” he smiled.

 You decide to turn around, hoping not seeing yourself for a few minutes will distract you.

You sincerely hope everything will work out, hope that everything will turn out fine. You trust Kyoya, he’ll do anything he can to keep his word. Your parents will be taken care of. You will be taken care of. His excuse of a father will be out of the picture.

What will you even do when it’s all said and done? Go off on your own? Get more education? Travel? Find love with someone else?

The future’s never been more terrifying.

At least you won’t be miserable. You can tell Kyoya’s made an effort to care about you throughout your engagement, he won’t be an awful husband for the year or so you’ll be married.

But does he really care about you? Or he just acting like it because you asked him to?

 Kyoya picked you up in his limousine for your first “date,” taking you to a fancy restaurant downtown. Surprisingly he was the one to initiate conversations during the whole thing, asking you about your life, your hobbies, your interests. You found you actually have a lot in common, and you end up talking for hours, literally until the restaurant closes and kicks you out.

“I would take you somewhere else, but I’m afraid it’s getting too late,” he said, opening the door of the limo for you to get in.

You frowned. You were actually having a really good time.

“Tomorrow?”

“Hmm?” he raised a brow.

“We could hang out again tomorrow?”

“Sure,”

 You opened your eyes, awoken from some noise outside. You looked around, assuming it was just some branches brushing against the side of the house. You rolled over, trying to get back to sleep.

The banging starts up again, and this time when you sat up you could almost swear you saw a hand through your window.

You stood up, trudging over and opening it.

“Kyoya? What the fuck are you doing?!”

“It’s tomorrow,” he smirked. You gaze at the clock. He’s right, it’s nearly 1 AM.

“I never pegged you for the sneaking out type,”

“Well, I do most of my best thinking at night, so I like to sit on the roof or go for a walk once everyone’s asleep,” he took a look at you in your pajamas. “Would you like to accompany me?”

“Give me a sec,” you shut the curtains and slipped on some clothes and freshened up a bit. You returned and started climbing out the window, Kyoya helping you get down to the ground.

“Where would you like to go?” he asked.

“This was your idea,”

“I suppose so,”

He ended up leading you to a small park his family owned, with a little pond and some benches and trees. You sat down and looked around, listening to the distant sounds of the night.

“I misjudged you, Kyoya,”

“You thought I was an asshole, didn’t you?”

You laughed, “Yeah, just a bit,”

“I certainly can be, I won’t claim otherwise,” he sat down next to you. “But I’m not opposed to expanding my horizons. You offered a valid point. A friendship and partnership may very well be in our best interests,”

“Ugh,” you groaned. “There you go again with your best interests shit,”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re telling me that you’re only trying to be friends with me because it’s in your best interest?”

“Is that…not how friendships work?” he squinted. “I am interested in being friends with you. I am interested in being your partner. Why does that upset you?”

“Because you’re talking about me like my love and respect is something for you to take or gain,”

“I apologize,” he hummed. “I’m afraid I don’t have much experience in the type of relationship you want,”

“You’ve never had a real friend? You’ve never cared about anyone for who they were more than what they could give you?”

“No, I have. Just not many,”

You almost felt…bad for him. He was trying, at least.

“I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t be so harsh,” you looked at him. “I know we can make this work. We just need to be patient with each other, that’s all,”

“Alright,” he agreed.

You continued your conversation from earlier, and things felt good again. You really do get along well, it’s a shame you weren’t actually in love.

 You check your phone, seeing a text from Kyoya sent just a few minutes ago. You open it, and he’s asking where you are because he wants to talk to you. You tell him no, not today, but he insists.

You stop responding, figuring no matter what you say he’ll come anyway. You didn’t tell him where you were, but a quick questioning of a few servants and someone would tell him.

You don’t particularly want to see him right now, not like this. This is your time to feel bad about yourself and lose your mind worrying about the future, and he’s not going to help that.

You don’t hate him, quite the opposite, but he’s only a reminder of what you have but could never be.

 You and Kyoya have gone on several more outings over the past few months, and it’s getting closer and closer to the wedding. He’s taken you to all his family’s properties, resorts, parks, and more. You’ve gone to almost every restaurant in town (yes, even commoner ones, you both found it entertaining), and you’ve spent many nights walking around the city. You’ve spent days indoors playing board and card games and watching movies. You genuinely enjoyed spending most of your free time with him.

But tonight’s a bit different.

Tonight you won’t be alone, on your own terms. Tonight was the rehearsal dinner, and of course both your families were going overboard. Barely any of it was going to be spent actually rehearsing for the wedding. There’s going to be dancing, food and drinks, and basically a party all night long.

Everyone’s going to be watching you, everyone’s eyes are going to be on you.

You met up with Kyoya after getting ready so you could walk in together. You put on your most formal outfits, besides the ones for the wedding a few days from now.

When he saw you, he averted his gaze immediately as if he’d just caught you naked.

“You look good,” he coughed.

“So do you,” you laughed.

He offered you his arm and you took it, walking down the hallway into the ballroom.

You had to do an awful lot of greeting before doing anything else. Everyone wants to talk to you and congratulate you, even people you swear you’ve never met in your life. There’s a mix of family, friends, and other business partners. Some people were probably there simply because they could be due to their status, and had no interest in the celebration whatsoever.

When you’re finally free of conversation, you raced to the table to grab some refreshments. They prepared the best food possible, including some of your favorites.

Kyoya found you again just as you were finishing, offering his arm to you once again.

“May I have this dance?”

You almost choked, “You dance?”

“Of course I do. So is my fiancé going to refuse me or not?”

You smiled and shook your head, giggling a bit as he drags you to the floor.

No one was doing anything particularly complicated, just waltzes, and thank goodness that was the case. You could barely think straight from everything going on.

Surprisingly Kyoya wasn’t a stiff dancer, his movements were consistent but flowed perfectly with the music. He held you closer than you thought he would, but gently.

You felt your body heat up and chills in your stomach and down your spine. How are those two things even possible to happen at the same time?

Well, shit. You weren’t actually falling for him were you?

You thought these past few months would be tedious, but they’ve actually been some of the best of your life. Kyoya’s become your best friend, and gosh you want to spend the rest of your life with him. You understand each other. You both want to break away from your controlling families and finally find your own happiness. You can spend hours talking about everything and nothing. You can make each other laugh like no one else ever has.

Maybe this arranged marriage could become a love marriage. Just maybe.

But no. Kyoya made his intentions very clear. You doubt he’s developed the same feelings for you. He may see you as a valued friend, but he’ll fell nothing when you inevitably break off your relationship in a couple years.

Kyoya must’ve noticed you zoning out in thought, because he stops dancing and brings his hands to your shoulders.

“Are you alright? Do you need some air?”

You nodded, and he leads you out onto the balcony outside the ballroom, keeping a hand on your back.

You take a deep breath, desperately trying to compose yourself after your realization. Should you tell him? No, absolutely not. Bad idea.

Why did this have to happen? Now you were even more miserable. Were you really so weak that you had to catch feelings?

“It’s going to be fine, you know,” he assured you. “I know it seems overwhelming, but by the end of the week we’ll be on our own and they can’t constantly be on our backs anymore,”

“Yeah,” you sighed, your breath stopping in your throat. “Do you think anyone will notice if I leave? I’m exhausted,”

“They probably will, unfortunately,” he looked out at the view. “But we can stay out here until they notice,”

“Thanks,” you grumbled. Your head was throbbing.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You managed to survive the rest of the night, barely.

You tried to get some rest, you have a fitting tomorrow, and then all you have to do is wait for the big day.

 You’ve been standing here for at least an hour, and you’re starting to get irritated. How long does it take to fit something? It looks fine.

You turn around again and stop breathing for a moment when you see Kyoya in the doorway. His hair is ruffled and he looks like he didn’t sleep at all, but there’s a smile on his face.

“I’d like to speak to my fiancé please,” he says.

You look away.

“Absolutely not! Don’t you know you’re not supposed to see each other’s outfits before the big day?” one of the tailors pipes up.

“Well, seeing as I already saw it, I don’t think it matters,” he motions for them to leave. “You’re dismissed,”

He waits until they’re gone before he approaches you, but by that time you’ve fallen down and started crying. You’re shaking on the edge of the platform you were standing on, your hands covering your face.

“You’ve been avoiding me all morning. What’s wrong?” he asks.

“This isn’t how it’s supposed to be,” you sniffle. “For everyone else this is the best time of their life. But it’s not for me,”

Kyoya crouches down in front of you.

He doesn’t cut in, so you keep going, “Look at me. I look great, I look just like how I wanted to as a kid, but it’s all wrong. Everything’s wrong. I thought I was okay with this, but I’m not. I hate this. I don’t hate you, but I hate this,”

You keep sobbing, trying to pretend he’s not there watching you. It’s not too hard actually, since you can barely see through the tears.

“Well, I suppose this might be the worst time to tell you what I was planning to tell you,” he tries not to laugh as not to be insensitive, but it comes out anyway.

“W-What?” you rub your eyes, seeing him a little clearer.

“I know this won’t fix anything, but I want you to know I do genuinely care about you. It was never part of the original agreement or plan, but I’ve come to feel more for you than I’ve felt for anyone. I just…I want you to know that. You’re not a tool to me anymore,” he takes a deep breath, “I love you,”

You stop crying for a moment, too shocked for the tears to keep flowing. Did he really just say that?

“I understand that you probably don’t feel the same, which is alright. I will still honor our original plan, get you everything you wanted, and allow you to leave whenever you please. But if you’ll have me as your husband, a real husband, you’re welcome to stay,”

The sobs break out again, barely able to get out the words, “I love you too,”

“You do? Really?” his eyes light up.

You nod vigorously, beaming through the tears, “Yes,”

“But you just said you hated this? That you were miserable?”

“Only because I thought you didn’t feel the same,”

“Oh,” he chuckles. “Well then,” he takes your hand and places his other on your cheek, looking into your eyes. “Will you marry me? Please?”

You laugh, “I guess,”

He smiles and pulls your face to his, kissing you softly. You take the initiative to deepen it, slithering your fingers into his tousled hair. He’s the last to pull away, and immediately pulls you back for more, even when you can barely breathe.

You can feel him smiling against your lips, his thumbs wiping all your tears away.

You thought you’d never know what it was like to be truly loved.

But now you do.

-

-

-

More Author’s Notes: This is my first time writing for OHSHC lol. Might dabble in it more in the future cuz I had a blast writing this XD Hope you enjoyed and feel free to tell me what you think!

[azucanela]

chapter iv

pairing: bakugou katsuki x fem!reader

summary: the internet is enamored with the idea of y/n l/n and bakugou katsuki, two renowned pro heroes, dating. the first issue? the pair rarely interacts. the second issue? apparently, they hate each other, not that anyone knows about that bit. of course, after one night of many mistakes, the whole world knows.

warnings: mentions of blood. violence. injuries. cursing. 

word count: 2k

[series masterlist] [wattpad] [ao3]

THIS HAS TO BE A DREAM. Y/N really doesn’t want to be dealing with this right now, this is literally the last thing she wants to be dealing with right now. She has half the mind to just disappear into the shadows using Telen’s quirk, seeing as she hadn’t returned it yet. 

‘Returned’ probably isn’t the best way to put it, after all he can still use his quirk but… she’s never really had a different way to explain it. But, Y/N is capable of using his quirk until she’s returned it to him, meaning his pain is hers and so is his quirk for the time being. Not that it matters right now, because she’s currently staring down Bakugou, who looks just as shocked as she does. 

“What are you doing here?” She finally asks, scowling. 

In response, Bakugou is rolling his eyes, allowing the door to shut behind him. “You don’t own this café,” he grumbles out.

That was actually incorrect, Y/N had bought the set of buildings on this street to make sure that the café wouldn’t go out of business, she was sentimental in that manner Meaning she technically had authorization to kick him out, something Bakugou seems to catch onto as his eyes narrow at her, “of course you do.” 

Y/N scoffs, looking away from him, “only legally. I have too much respect for Rosalyn to tell her what to do with her business.” She waves him off, “they’re getting something from the back, you’ll have to wait.” Y/N finds that she’s wishing she had a little bit less respect for Rosalyn, because maybe then she would have the guts to kick Bakugou out.

Bakugou says nothing, simply eyeing Y/N as he moves to grab a bag of chips from the stand, awkwardly standing by the cash register he waited for them to return. Of course, Y/N had a feeling they wouldn’t be returning anytime soon at this point. She wouldn’t be shocked if Lily had done something to make this happen, all to torture Y/N.

Although Lorelai might consider this the perfect time to apologize, Y/N finds it her personal hell. And she’s fairly sure Bakugou has the same sentiments as she begins to tap her foot rhythmically against the floor. The space is silent aside from that, and Y/N almost wishes a stranger would come in and end her misery.

A sudden pain courses through her, and Y/N’s brows furrow as her mouth gapes open slightly, hand coming to her stomach, though her thoughts are interrupted as Bakugou snaps, “could you quit tapping your damn foot?”

And Y/N does stop, but not because he asked, instead to say, “you can always leave.” There’s a sarcastic smile on her face as she glances at him, preparing to continue tapping her foot despite the throbbing that had appeared in her leg as well. 

If Y/N had to guess, something had happened to Telen. But that wasn’t necessarily out of the ordinary in hero work, and given how high profile Hawks’ agency was, they had a healer on call. She had no doubt that whatever injury he’d somehow sustained, he would be fine. And yet, Y/N can’t help the frown that washes over her, a certain fear and anxiety that definitely doesn’t belong to her suddenly drowning her senses. 

Y/N is about to make a phone call when she hears Bakugou, “you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

She’s about to make some sort of witty comment in response, only to see that he’s looking outside, where the presence of paparazzi has become apparent. Though they hadn’t started their mobs yet, any trained Pro Hero was well aware when they were being followed. Despite attempts to hide, Y/N could easily see that there were several people hidden throughout the area, trying to catch pictures of the famed Y/N L/N and Bakugou Katsuki together.

They were probably hoping the pair would start arguing, maybe even get into a physical fight knowing Bakugou. Though, if that did happen, Y/N was fairly sure Lorelai would have her head. 

That and the fact that the shippers on Twitter were going to love this. But Y/N certainly wasn’t, scoffing as she came to a stand, “did they follow you here?” Her tone is accusatory, she knows that. But if Y/N is honest, she has no shame being upfront about her emotions with Bakugou, not anymore. 

He glares at her once more in response, placing his order down more roughly than necessary, “obviously not. If anything it was you they followed here.”

Y/N comes to a stand, inhaling deeply as she reminds herself that she and Bakugou are currently the stars of the show that is the media. Everyone who's anyone, and anybody that’s a nobody wants to bear witness to their interactions if it means advancing their career. And Y/N has no intent of further damaging her reputation, or giving the media the easy way out.

Though she wouldn’t mind putting an additional dent in Bakugou’s already horrid reputation, there were bigger things than that. And at the end of the day, they were stuck together for the time being, until things died down that is.

So, Y/N finds herself heading over to the counter with her items in hand– discarding them behind the register to make sure that Lily would hold onto them for her— before looking to Bakugou, “we need to leave, now.”

Bakugou is frowning, eyes falling on his order, but he simply nods as he returns his gaze to Y/N, “and how do you suppose we do that?”

While she’s grateful he elected not to argue— probably because he’s well-aware of his own dwindling reputation and wants to salvage whatever he can, like the selfish bastard he is— Y/N finds herself narrowing her eyes at him, simply turning around and gesturing for him to follow her, “come with me.”

“What, we can’t just go out the front door?” 

She’s not shocked by his proposition, though Y/N is also aware that Bakugou isn’t a fool. He may be impulsive at times, and extremely confrontational to a fault, but he was not an idiot. Even if he seemed to be just some annoying brute.

Y/N glances back at Bakugou, looking to him incredulously, “the moment we step outside, we will be bombarded with questions.” A bitter laugh escapes her, “and we both know how you’ll probably respond to that.”

“Oh so this is my fault?” He asks, taking a few steps closer. 

Bringing a hand to her temple, Y/N looks up to him, “we don’t have time for this.” Comes her response, “either you come with me, or I leave without you.”

With that, Y/N turns on her heel, hand shoved into her pocket as she pulls out a set of keys and begins to flip through them in search of the right one. She can feel Bakugou’s eyes on her as she finally finds the right key, the one that leads to the hallway behind the second staff door. Most people don't have access because if you take a wrong turn you’ll end up in the studio apartment of the owners. But, if you continue down the hallway, there’s an exit into the alleyway that Y/N intended to take.

Finally, she pushes the door open. Y/N doesn’t bother to look back as she steps inside the hallway, dimly lit, in fact some of the lights are even flickering. But she can see the bright red ‘EXIT’ sign not too far away. 

Y/N doesn’t hear the door click shut, and with a sigh she turns back to see Bakugou had planted his foot in the door, kicking it open while his hands remained shoved into his pockets. Wordlessly, he stepped inside, and Y/N simply returned her gaze to the exit.

Until another spike of pain coursed through her. Her steps falter, though Y/N manages to catch herself on the wall, hand planted firmly there as she inhales deeply. 

To be fair, the average person would’ve passed out from the pain by now, and Y/N didn’t have her hero suit to help cushion the blows of pain nor was she necessarily prepared for sudden pain— she wasn’t in battle. Though her pain tolerance is high enough that it's manageable.

Bakugou seems to notice, no— he definitely notices. Looking to her pensively as he pauses behind her, Y/N doesn’t want to meet his eyes as she huffs, pushing off the wall. “Let’s go.” 

He says nothing, and Y/N is grateful as they continue down the hall.

It’s a short walk to the actual exit, but Y/N’s head is pounding so she doesn’t really notice anything out of the ordinary until Bakugou’s arm comes to stop her. She bumps into it, frowning as she looks up to him ready to speak in protest, to yell at him for touching her— though there's no skin to skin contact so she doesn’t really have much to worry about yet. 

Until she realizes blood is coming from under the door. Evidently, she had a lot to worry about.

Y/N looks up to Bakugou, offering him a nod that he returns. A silent communication between the pair which brings Bakugou to press his separate hand against the door, brows drawing together before he rapidly pushes the door open and the pair steps out into the alley.

And there lies the body of Pro Hero Telen. Y/N recognizes him instantly, and it makes sense given how badly her body is throbbing with pain. 

Her mouth gapes open, but Y/N is no fool as her back meets Bakugou’s, each of them surveying the area for the hero’s attacker. 

But there’s no one to be found. 

Y/N looks back to Bakugou, who simply nods, prompting Y/N to drop to her knees despite the blood that begins to seep through her clothes. Eyes falling on Telen as a hand comes to his chest. Nobody has ever died while Y/N was using their power, and if Y/N had to guess, Telen was still alive. There was no need for her to check for a pulse, simple as that. 

“He’s alive. Call for backup.”

When Bakugou doesn’t reply, Y/N turns, and she can see the explosions sparking in his palms but there are no enemies nearby. But Y/N recognizes the look on his face, the frustration, the anger. But he’s not angry with anyone other than himself right now. 

“Bakugou.” She repeats, an attempt to pull him out of his thoughts. They don’t have time to be distracted right now. While the attacker clearly isn’t around right now, there was a possibility he’d return. Not that Y/N was too worried, if they had any sense of bloodlust, she’d notice them.

He inhales sharply, simply nodding stiffly once more before pulling out his phone. But all Bakugou can think about is the fact that the Stain Copycat was here, and they’d targeted a member of Hawks’ Agency. The Number 2 Hero. Which meant whoever it was, they were getting bolder, and even worse, two of the best upcoming Pro Heroes were just next door and they hadn’t even noticed.

Even if the new Hero Killer had failed to finish the job, it didn’t matter. This would be a sign to all. A bad one. A message even. It felt as though this copycat was mocking him with every move. 

The only thing that Y/N can think about, is how dark this alley is, how easy it should’ve been for Telen to escape from his attacker. Which can only mean one of two things, the perpetrator had done something to prevent Telen from escaping into the shadows. Or, it was someone he trusted enough that he hadn’t felt the need to. Not until it was too late, that is. 

This was a problem. A big problem.

note: short but eventful chapter? and look at me go, updating on an actual schedule thats a first!

[thenextchapter22]

Virgin No More

Description: Reader is a virgin and masturbates a ton. The boys tease her and then Asmodeus fucks her and makes her not a virgin anymore

Warnings: NSFW, Squirting, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, First Time Sex, Masturbation, Cunnilingus

Pairing(s): Asmodeus/Reader

Word Count: 8,004

Link to my AO3: Click Here

Author’s Notes: I really hope you enjoy this, I had tons of fun writing it :)

_+_

There was nothing like waking up horny after having wonderful dreams and vigorously masturbating. You couldn’t help yourself, living with 7 incredibly handsome demons did things to your virgin body that just hadn’t ever happened before. Imaging Lucifer’s dark red eyes above you or his velvet voice urging you to be a good girl, or Asmodeus’ charm actually working on you and having him touch you all over and do the same back to him. Or, one of your favorite dreams, Beel and Belphie fucking you together, but this one started out with Beel licking your pussy and getting you wet and prepared for their cocks.

You gasped, flicking over your clit just imagining it again. The sheets were sticking to you as you touched your body in all the ways you liked to be touched as a thin gleam of sweat covered your body from the excitement. Softly you rubbed over your labia with your middle and index finger, circling, then they entered your vagina with a wet squelch. Using your thumb to press your clitoris as you stretched your inner walls you plunged as deep as you could go. Fuck it felt so good. You pictured it was Satan above you, his demanding voice telling you to go deeper and deeper. As your other hand gripped the edge of the bed you lifted your back off it and rocked your hips into your hand.

You couldn’t remember the last day you hadn’t touched yourself. It was about a week ago or more. Your finger was probably useless in the future for anything like finger prints because you had definitely rubbed your clit one too many times.

Back arching as you reached your limit, you shut your eyes, picturing Lucifer looming above you, commanding you to cum with his wings and horns on show, magic rippling around the both of you. Tremors overcame you, lights dancing in your tightly closed eyes, and your body rocked out the orgasm until you fell on to the bed, fully sated.

“Fuck yes,” you sighed, taking your hand out from under the sheets. It was sticky from your own fluids, and so was the bedding. You were a squirter and really should have put a towel down but oh well.

It was time to get ready for the day now. You got dressed in a comfortable pair of black leggings and a soft flowing short-sleeved blue blouse with flowers. Then you curled your hair just so it had some shape and put in some stud earrings and some light make up, blush and lip stick and eye liner with soft pink eye shadow and minimal mascara. Finally a pair of flats to wear for the day.

There was not school for two days so you happily strolled to breakfast, ready to eat whatever Beel made as it was his turn. He always thought of you and made really good human food. The others tried, but he did the best out of all of them.

The atmosphere was bright in the dining room and as soon as you came in they all greeted you with good mornings. You said the same back and took your seat between Mammon and Leviathan, excited to see pancakes and bacon and jams alongside their own types of breakfast foods.

The only one not in the room was Belphie. As you said this, he came in, taking a seat beside his twin opposite you and Mammon. It was the typical seating arrangement, but usually you took whatever seat was open, and Mammon was pretty upset whenever you didn’t sit by him at breakfast so you made sure to do it often.

Belphegor looked at you and you waited for his good morning that always came in a yawn, but then he said something else entirely. “Could you please stop doing that so often? It’s been days and I can’t get any sleep with your pheromones lurking in the halls so damned early,” Belphie complained. He put his head down on the table atop his pillow, and shut his eyes.

You turned bright red, and you dropped your fork to the plate of pancakes. It clattered and the sound echoed the room. “W-what?”

Satan snickered at you childishly from where he sat beside Levi. “What he meant was your masturbation marathon, kitten. We’ve been wondering when it will end.”

“Yeah, it’s been hard on me too!” Asmo said with a pout, between Belphie and Lucifer at the head of the table. “I love the smell and it makes me feel amazing and super refreshed but goodness you really need to get fucked, my dear. A good dick will make all the difference, how about it?”

Mammon hollered at Asmo while you sat there, in shock. The white-haired demon slammed his hands on the table and screamed across the long table, looking at Satan and Asmo as he screamed. “Hey, stop it! Enough talk about dick! She doesn’t deserve this, okay?! Fuck you all!”

Levi was bright red beside him. “Y-yeah! Th-th-this is not something we should be talking about!”

You vaguely noticed Lucifer as he nodded twice. He stared down the three demons responsible, and said, “Yes, I agree. This is not appropriate talk during breakfast. It will cease now.”

“Whatever.” Bephie rolled his eyes, and Beel looked at him very disappointedly.

Your chest ached. Your eyes burned. Before you knew it, you were gone from the table. Everyone was shouting at you, but you ignored them all as you ran to an empty room. It held a couple chairs and a couch as well as an empty fireplace, but not much else. You turned on the lights and stood there, facing away from the doorway to stare at the brick wall.

There was no school today. It was Saturday. You had planned on studying with Satan but now…

You sobbed into your arms, embarrassed and upset and feeling dirty. You really should have known that living in a house with literal demons that had heightened senses would mean they could sense your personal activities. But it hurt how they teased you. That could have been handled better. You were only human and had needs, too, and they should have understood how it would feel to be called out on touching yourself like that. Stupid Belphie, stupid Satan, stupid Asmo. You hated them.

The door was opened behind you. You turned sharply, and saw Asmo come in, shutting the door behind him.

“What?” you asked. “Come to make fun of me?”

Asmo shook his head, seeming pitiful in his stance. “My dear, we were only teasing,” he said with apologetic eyes. “It’s a natural thing to do and we didn’t mean any harm by what we said to you.”

You sniffled and wiped over your face which was no doubt red and splotchy. “You didn’t ha-have to be so rude about it. I’m sorry for being innocent, okay? It’s not like anyone would want… me…” you said, gesturing to your body.

Asmo gasped. “Love, you are so wrong about that. I want you every day.” He stepped closer, backing you up in the room. His eyes roamed over your body that still trembled from being verbally harassed. “I want you so badly, I’ve made that clear, have I not? And hearing you each morning and night experience such pleasure at your own hands makes me want to give you even more with my own.”

You inhaled sharply, face burning red. “A-Asmo!”

He grinned like a shark, eyes flashing with lustful power. “Oh how I wish I could charm you, my dear, then you would truly see. But alas, I will just have to show you in other ways how much I want you.”

“I-I don’t…”

“Shhh,” he said, finally backing you up into the wall, and you hit it with a gasp and a grunt. His arms surrounded you, and he wasn’t as tall as Beel but he still leaned down to look you in the eyes. “Let me take care of you, please your lovely body. Can I do that… for you?”

You stared at him, his luscious lips, his burning desire-filed eyes. You felt his warmth and smelt his cologne, fruity and delicate. This was like a fantasy. Were you dreaming?

“Well, my darling?” he asked, hot breath burning your cheek. His lips brushed ever so on your face. “Can I touch you, can I feel your beautiful body against mine? Will you allow me to give you great pleasure?”

You whimpered, almost falling down the wall. He giggled and caught you in his arms, holding you up by an arm around your waist. Your head was down, so he titled it up with one long elegant finger beneath your chin, and his face was inches away, eyes looking intently at you.

“So delicate. But I can only guess, not as innocent as others may think, am I right?” You were going to shake your head, but he grabbed your chin in between his fingers and said, “Well? I’m not letting you go until I get an answer…” Asmo tapped gently at your lips with his manicured index finger. “I’m not so patient, my dear.”

You thought. And thought and thought and thought. This should be easy right? Just say yes, and Asmo, the Lust avatar, would make you feel amazing of course. He was the embodiment of pleasure. Narcissistic, but still he had to make his lovers feel great, otherwise they would not come back to him nor would he have so many admirers. And your dreams of his touch, his naked figure on top your own, lithe and powerful and gorgeous, was no longer just that. He was going to make dreams reality. He was going to make you feel good.

You were a virgin, but not an idiot.

So it was easy after all to say, “Yes.”

Asmodeus grinned again. “Well well, then, my darling little virgin. Let’s play, shall we?”

You took the hand he offered, and he led you away to his room. He kissed your hand as he felt it shake and his smile softened. “Don’t worry your pretty little human head. I’ll take good care of you! Oh, were going to have so much fun!”

You knew he meant that. Asmo was never anything but kind to you (when you didn’t count the beginning of your stay when mostly all of the demon brothers hated you, until you proved to them you were not some weak human and could get through almost anything, even death).

“Come inside my room, little lamb,” he said, tugging you into his room. He shut the door, and caged you in his arms with a hug, rocking you back and forth like soothing an upset child. It was sudden, but not unwanted. He obviously could sense your nervousness.

You relaxed into it, and he stroked your locks. His hands were warm and comforting as they circled down your back and up again, and he hummed a nonchalant tune in your ear. Then, he plucked off your bra like it was nothing, and you gasped and froze in his grip as it was flung across the room behind you both.

He just laughed in your ear. “I am very skilled at that.”

“Yeah, I can see,” you said in shock.

He laughed again. His hands gripped your upper arms and he looked at you. “Let’s see… how about we get you more comfortable, yes? Into my closet! I’ve got just the thing!”

You, once again, were tugged along. His closet was… an entire bedroom basically, shelfs and rows of clothes and shoes and coats and scarfs. “Wow.” It was like a rich woman’s room. So many colors and textures. Your fingers ran over the clothes as Asmo dragged you deeper into the fabric tunnel.

“Here we are!” He let go of you only to grab you once again. “Change into this, and I’ll be waiting for you.” He winked as he dropped some stuff in your hands. “It makes it more fun!” and he stepped away, back out of the closet.

You stood there, dumfounded. The clothes you were given were… not many at all. It was a dress, stockings, and wow that was a very thin pair of underwear. String, honestly. You sighed, but nodded. You could do this. This was everything you had ever wanted and more. Gather some courage and if you did that, you would no longer be a virgin. Getting fucked by the Avatar of Lust as your first time was honestly pretty unbelievable.

“Okay, yes, I can do this,” you mumbled as you started stripping your clothes off. Just thinking that Asmo was waiting for you to come out in the clothes he picked made you start to feel hot.

Eventually you stood in only your panties as he had already taken off your bra. Then, off with the underwear you wore, simply colored light blue with little white flowers. You slipped on the thin gown, it barely reached the edge of your ass. It was a white lace baby doll with a sheer lace neckline with a scalloped trim. Thin spaghetti straps with a satin waist tie with bow accent. You did like the bow, because you loved anything with a bow. You also liked the bottom of the skirt where flower patterns in lace traveled up just enough to hide the sheerness of the rest of the gown. There was also a matching white thong to go with it and you put that on, feeling the string of it slip between your folds and your ass cheeks.

Honestly, you had no idea why he wanted you to change clothing. Maybe because Asmo wanted to dress you up like he always did. Or, you thought more deeply, he finally had the chance to see you in sluttier and sexier clothing, and that he would have the chance to take it off of you.

You felt really good in this outfit, actually. Sexy and soft, a bit cold but that was fine. You felt yourself over with your hands, nerves tingling as your fingers ran across your nipples and down to your hips over the soft fabric.

Taking a deep breath, you readied yourself. It was time to show him your new look.

You came out of the closet, shy and head bowed. You held an arm across your chest and used one hand to pull the bottom of the nightie down. Standing at the edge of the closet entrance you waited for him to say something.

“Ahh, a beautiful angel is in my room. I can’t wait to defile her~”

Your face flushed deep red at his words. “A-asmo, I—” And you looked up then to see him sitting on his bed now. He lounged back against his plethora of pillows. He had changed into a new outfit, one that was sans a shirt and only skin tight black pants. His legs spread wide, one leg propped up with his arm hanging over it.

He smirked at you, and used a long finger to curl towards himself, inviting you over. He tilted his head and licked his lips. “Why don’t you put on a show for me, hmm?”

“A-a show?”

He nodded, giggling. “Dance, shimmy your hips, but do it seductively.”

“You’re teasing me again,” you whined, pushing your legs together. You felt the thong rub your labia and become damp.

He moaned, and the sound went right to your core. “Yes, but it makes you feel good, doesn’t it?”

You slowly nodded your head in response. Because he was right. Your pussy was leaking, and the thin piece of cloth pressed up against your clit and it felt so good. Squeezing together your thighs as subtly as you could, you held back a whimper.

“Don’t hide your sounds from me,” he said knowingly. “I want to hear them all from those pretty lips!”

You walked closer to him, until you stood at the edge of his bed. You didn’t know what to do, so you just stood there, biting your lip. You were so unsure of what to do and what to say. Having fantasies and dreams were different, you could do whatever you wanted and didn’t have to feel so embarrassed about it. Not like you had control in your dreams, but still.

Asmo sighed. “All right, my sweet, come here,” he cooed, opening his arms for you. “Let me hold you, I want to feel you in my arms in that sexy little number.”

You crawled on the bed, forever red in the face, and he watched every inch of you as you did. Hands and knees, careful not to let your breasts fall loose by sticking your belly downward and thus sticking your ass up. He pulled you into his chest, your face pressed into the crevasse of his shoulder and neck while your arms snuck over his shoulders. He smelled so good it made you feel even hotter. Your breasts pushed against his abs, and your stiff nipples hidden beneath thin material rubbed against his hard bare chest. You couldn’t stop yourself from exhaling heatedly on his skin.

“You look so beautiful, baby. I’m so glad to have you in my embrace.”

His hand came to rest over the swell of your ass, the other wandering around your inner thigh. Being bare all aside from the thong made you feel dirty and fantastic. You shimmed a bit, and he made a happy sound. His fingers pulled the string like a rubber band to snap, and you cried out from the yanking it did to your pussy.

His smooth voice moaned into your ear, fingers on your thigh scratching a bit, causing you to grit your teeth from the painful pleasure. “I want to get my fingers inside of you, make you suck them clean of your own juices. You’re leaking all over, my dear.”

You sobbed into his shoulder. “Please,” you begged.

“Hnnn, yes, beg for me more, I want to hear you.”

“Can I—” and you stopped yourself, embarrassed to ask.

He stroked your hair back, kissed your temple. “No, no, don’t hide what you want. I’m here to make you feel good and I want you to tell me what that is. What do you want, just tell me, darling, and I’ll provide.”

You shivered. “Can you kiss me?”

He said nothing to it, only maneuvering the both of you until you sat on your knees in front of him. His hand rested on your lower back, soothing thumb rubbing in circles on the small of it. Looking at him from beneath thick lashes, you waited.

“Darling,” he whispered, reaching to cup your cheek. He kissed like you were a delicate flower, and you were. His tongue never came into play surprisingly. He played with your lips like he was eating a slice of an orange, suckling your bottom into his mouth and moaning like he got all the right flavors out. His hand held your face still, and you leaned as far in as you could, eyes closed softly, head tilted upward to meet him. It was slow and gentle and sweet, his lips melding seamlessly with yours.

“So perfect for me,” he murmured, thumb stroking your cheekbone. “I want to devour you.”

You looked at him, feeling debauched from just a simple kiss, while he looked the same, a hint of red to his cheeks and shine to his lips. Yours no doubt had the same shine and you licked them, feeling wetness.

“Then do it,” you said with false bravado.

He chuckled almost darkly. “Am I already corrupting you?” he teased.

“Maybe you are,” you said back.

He kissed you again, a soft peck of lips. “I want to kiss you everywhere.” He wasn’t soft then, his hands reaching to cup your tits. You moaned and pushed up into them, almost gifting your breasts to him. He squeezed them, and thumbed your nipples.

“Ah-hhaa,” you exhaled, cheeks reddening and lashes fluttering. You rocked forward, pleasuring yourself with the motion, squeezing your ass cheeks to tighten the string against you. Your thighs were together to hide what would be your pussy bare for him to see.

“Are you making yourself feel good?” he cooed, pinching your nipples and tugging. You gasped, jaw dropping. “I see your hips moving, my dear. I think you should rock against something more… sturdy.”

He lifted you up around your waist, and you squealed in shock, while he simply laughed. You were put on his extended leg on your knees, then, and your pussy was pressed directly onto it. It was a pressure so sudden and wonderful. Your head shot back and your hands gripped the bedding on either side of you in tight curled hands. “Ahh~”

He held your hips, and strongly, too. His fingers encasing either side of you and he shoved his leg up to put more force against you. “Such a gorgeous site, you pleasuring yourself on me.”

You shook your head, overwhelmed, breathing heavily. “Asmo, please, let me—”

“Let you what?” he asked innocently, head titled.

Move, you wanted to say. But he held you still, and just looked at you in glee. Your pussy throbbed on his leg and you wondered if he could feel it through his thin tight pants.

“Do you want to move against me, use me like a toy?”

“Yes, yes, I do!”

He let you go, and you moved immediately. Unashamed and needy. Motions of back and forth, occasional side to side, circles then. Chasing the shocks of pleasure brought to your clit and labia.

“Look at you go. Does it feel so good?” He wiggled his leg, and you cried out. “I love watching you let loose, this is an entirely different side of you I completely adore~”

You weren’t paying attention, lost in the pleasure. Having him watch you use him to feel the occasional brush against your clit was extremely arousing. The embarrassment of it turned you on, too. He was feeling you up while you rocked on him. His fingers trailing over your upper arms, into the dip of your neck. Goosebumps arose where he left phantom touches.

“Asmo, I-I want, I need to—” you exhaled through your nose, teeth grit and lips pushed out in concentration.

“I know, you want to cum so badly, don’t you?” he whined sympathetically.

You nodded and agreed, “yeah...”

“Well, I won’t stop you, my dear.”

And you let go, pressing hard down against his pant leg and shimmying your hips to ignite that fire in your belly. Your head tossed back so far your neck ached as you came with a jolt, moaning deeply. Clit pulsating, pussy clenching around nothing but a thin string. Knowing he was watching you, letting you complete the sparking pleasure by keeping still, simply holding your hips while you rode him like a cowgirl would a bull, there was no way to describe the desire you felt.

You panted, relaxing your body and head once the fire simmered down. Slumped almost, tired from the loud orgasm you just had. You swallowed hard, and exhaled, feeling sweat built on your body cooling from the exertion of chasing your completion.

Asmo hummed, stroking his fingers over your burning cheeks. “You got my pants soaked, lovely.”

“S-sorry…”

“It’s all right. I didn’t think you’d be such a… leaker…” he winked.

“Hnng, please….” He was so embarrassing. Your body was spent, but it was as if you knew this wasn’t the end because you were just waiting for him to do more, and he waited for you to come down fully from the high.

He carefully lifted you up to set you between his legs. You whimpered at the motion, any movement causing stinging pleasure to spark down below. “I think you should get naked, what do you say?”

You whined. Just as you guessed. Well, he did say he was going to fuck you, and that was definitely not fucking. You basically used him like a dog would, and it made your insides burn, like an ember wanting to burst into a new fire. You glanced to his crotch and saw he was bulging and hard, and it had to be painful to be keeping his cock encased in leather for so long without release.

“I-I guess…”

He pouted at you. “I want to see all of you. Especially that leaking little pussy.”

You gasped at his words, feeling more juices dribble from your inner core onto the bedding. “S-stop, I can’t…”

“You can’t help it, hmm? This innocent part of you is getting so wet, it’s ready to be played with. That’s a good thing, my dear. I’ll touch it and fill it with my fingers and tongue and make you cum hard enough that you just might pass out. Then, I’ll fill you with my cock.”

Fuck, yes. This was everything you had dreamed of, and he was going to give it to you. “Please…”

“Shhh, just take off the clothes, my sweet, and I’ll make you feel even more pleasure,” he promised.

His words made your entire body clench. Yes, the flame was on full blast again. So you sat back on your knees, and exhaled. Eyes closed, you lifted up the bottom of the lingerie and pulled it up, tossed it across the room. You then held your breasts in each hand, looking to the side to avoid his gaze.

He did not hesitate to turn your head back to look directly into his eyes. He kissed you again, his tongue dipping to press to yours for a quick moment, your instinct to follow it with your own making him sigh happily. He breathed against your mouth, “stunning. You’re so stunning, sweetheart.”

He placed you back against the pillows in a quick motion, and once you re-oriented yourself you saw he was in full demonic form above you. His pink-tipped horns and leathery wings, and his eyes were bright with Lust. He was beautiful. The embodiment of it honestly.

You didn’t even register you were no longer holding your tits until he reached out to brush his hands across your belly and tickle upwards. You blushed, fingers twitching, wanting to hide but knowing he really wanted to see your nude body.

He smirked, and the energy in the room grew heated. “Are you ready for my tongue on your pussy, angel?”

You squirmed for a moment, feeling the thong cooling and wet against your lower lips counter act with the new pooling heat building within you. “'m ready.”

“For what, exactly?”

You glared at him. “Asmo…”

“Hush, you can say it, I believe in you,” he said with a sweet kiss to your forehead. “One sentence and I will make your body feel so good~”

You wanted him desperately. You had to say it.

As you spoke, you felt a blush cover your entire body. “Please, Asmo, I’m ready for your tongue on my… on my pussy.”

“Good girl.”

Asmo knelt down to kiss your bare stomach. His hands carefully pulled your thighs apart, and you resisted for a moment. He glanced up at you, and smiled softly, encouraging with his pretty face that he would be good to you. And that you knew already. So you let go, and his face was inches from your core, your thighs trembling.

“Let’s get this off you first,” he said, tugging the string against your hip with his finger. It snapped like magic (probably was magic) and he pulled it away, the feeling of it sliding against you causing a squirm. You were totally nude. Naked all for him.

He inhaled deeply, shivering hungrily. “Mmm, you smell so delicious. I need to taste you now.”

His tongue flickering on your clit was a shock even with his words. It made you gasp, and your hands automatically gripped his head of hair that was between your legs, then your fingers slipped to grasp his horns which were warm, feeling the smoothness and ridged edges between your digits.

He moaned as you tugged on him, speaking around your wetness, “Keep doing that, hold me here to lick you open.”

You cried out when he flickered his tongue against the sensitive nub between your folds. His hands pulled you open by your inner thighs so he could really get in there, press against your labia and lick upwards to then suckle your clit between his lips, and as he did so he made soft sounds that added vibrations. It was incredible what he was doing to you with his tongue, flickering it and flattening it in all the right spots.

“Asmo, feels good,” you panted, shoving him further into you. He did ask for it after all.

“Baby, you taste so good,” he moaned.

Spreading your thighs spread so wide it burned from the ache and pushing your body up into his mouth, it wasn’t long before you felt yourself closing in on another orgasm. You tried to let him know but he was seemingly uncaring of it. He hummed against your folds and suckled your clit with his mouth. His tongue was warm and wet. He was deep into giving you pleasure so you focused on climbing higher and higher, but you wanted this to last, too, so you tried to keep the pleasure at the highest point before you crashed down.

Eventually your hands let go of his horns, slipping through is silky locks and down to your own body to play with your own breasts, your nipples were rock hard and aching so you tugged them and moaned. You looked down at Asmo while he ate you out, and it was so hot to watch his head bob around between your legs. What a sight to see, the Lust avatar licking your most intimate parts.

He stopped for a quick moment when he heard you moan, and smirked with a sheen on his lips, “You look so gorgeous tugging your little nipples, darling,” he said, squeezing your thighs.

“You’re more gorgeous,” you blurted out, and blushed, keeping your hands on your breasts but feeling a little shy about it.

He laughed, “You’re so cute,” he then went back to lick more.

You wanted it to last, the feeling of his tongue on you. So you kept your own orgasm at bay a little more, delaying your own gratification just to hold onto the wondrous things he was doing to your vagina. If only you could stay like this forever, feeling this great until you died. What a fantastic thought. You never wanted this to end.

After a few minutes of getting his spectacular tongue, he kissed your inner thigh and spoke sweetly, “Darling, while I love how well you are doing at holding back, and that’s definitely something I would really like to explore, the sooner you cum, the sooner I can get inside of you.”

He was right, and it was getting to difficult anyways. You let yourself reach peak, it wasn't difficult with how close you had been, and came once again. This time with a powerful spurt across his face. Your entire body was red with embarrassment, but the pleasure coursing through you kept you from speaking. You glanced down to see him licking his lips, his cheeks and lips coated in a shimmer of almost clear white. Your own body’s juices, all over Asmo’s face.

He smirked at you, his wings fluttering. He was literally glowing. The pink tips of his horns seemed brighter. “My, you’re so sweet to give me such a lovely present.” He wiped a finger across his cheek, collected some of your fluids, and seductively sucked his finger. With a wet pop, his finger left his perfect ‘O’ mouth and he did this a few times while you just lay there, still coming down from the high, watching with awe, until he was clean again.

He leaned over you and kissed you, and you kissed back eagerly, tasting yourself on his tongue. It was a sour sweet taste, melding with his own candy sweet tongue. He hummed and moaned. The taste of you made your body tingle, it was a dirty kind of sexy.

Once he was done giving you the taste of your pussy on your tongue, he leaned back on his heels and rubbed his fingers delicately across your skin wherever he could touch you. Your legs, chest, stomach, your face, he did this while you calmed down from your second orgasm. The gesture was really sweet and you ended up smiling goofy at him at one moment, and he chuckled.

“Are you with me?”

You nodded. “Yeah…”

The back of his fingers ran across your ribs, back and forth, and he watched them and asked, “Do you want my cock now, dear?”

“Y-yes...”

“Wonderful~”

Undressing the rest of the way, so just his pants tore off (he didn’t wear underwear), he was totally nude in no time. His body was erotic personified. He was basically putting himself on show for you, as was his personality, so you took the chance to really look at his sexy body while he sat there, letting you stare at him.

The heart patterns on his skin stood out, darker at the edges and very bright in the center, as if they absorbed magic from your orgasms and fueled him. His whole body was pure art. Strong, lean, sexual art. His wings were something out of a storybook with fairies, dark fairies maybe, and they fluttered ever so often like he was a dog wagging his tail. Your heart beat faster as your gaze moved down his chest to his cock. No hair, thick, long, and his cockhead was red with pre-cum leaking at the tip, ready to be touched, or ready to be stuffed inside you.

“Do you like what you see, darling? Can you picture me filling you up?” he teased, his hand gripping his shaft, pumping it slowly.

What a sight that was. You swallowed loudly as he did this a few times before realizing he asked a question so you replied with a single, “Yes.”

He was totally right. You imagined him entering you, stretching you apart with the mushroom head of his weeping cock. Your pussy was drooling for him, clenching around nothing, aching from earlier activities but yearning for more. The permanent blush on your face was a clear indicator of your eagerness for him to fuck you.

“Let’s get you ready~” He was ecstatic, but you were nervous, biting your lip and squirming a little. “It’s all right. Lay back now, sweetie, get comfortable for me. Relax, you’re going to feel so good when I get my cock in you.”

You did as he said, and relaxed back. You threw your arm over your eyes, nervous, blocking out the rooms dim lighting and the chance he could see your face red and cringing. Your body was overstimulated but you found yourself needing more, needing his cock like he promised you. But the embarrassment of him sticking his cock inside of you, while incredibly hot, was also scary. You never had anything more than some toys or fingers before all this.

“All right hon, keep these legs wide open for me,” he said, tapping your thighs.

You spread them open, heart beating faster. You could feel him inching closer to your dripping core, and you held your breathe for a few seconds and exhaled shakily. You wanted this, desperately, but why couldn’t you just snap your fingers and have it over with so he could fuck you senseless already.

Asmo rubbed your leg, cooing at you as he did. “Take a few deep breaths, it’s all okay. Can I see your pretty face, pretty please?”

You dropped the arm from across your face, but still kept looking above you instead of at him.

“There she is, my gorgeous girl,” he said happily, squeezing your thigh with his large warm hand.

He didn’t do anything for a few moments, and you heard something snap, a bottle popping open. Suddenly his fingers pressed to your entrance, wet and cold. Your body tensed up and you began whimpering, unable to stop the sounds from escaping you.

“Shhh. I’ve got to stretch you open with lube, dear, your own juices just aren’t enough.”

Oh fuck. He was right, but did he have to say it like that? “Okay…”

He giggled at your blushing cheeks. “So cute!”

Your hands clawed the sheets as he stuffed his fingers inside of you, and it was cold for a moment but then warm, and he was pumping them in and out slowly, dragging them across your inner walls.

“You’re leaking all over my hand, it’s so fucking hot. I never knew you were such a leaker, sweetie, it’s so rare and lovely to watch my fingers get coated in your lovely juices.”

“Ah~ Asmo, stop talking like that,” you begged, feeling warmed lube and your body’s fluids trickle from your hole.

He giggled. “Aw, I think you love it, my dear. Your pussy gets so tight around my fingers when I say naughty things.”

“Nnngg, please,” you babbled.

He pressed his third finger in after a few minutes of the two pulling you open, and you grit your teeth as he did so up to his knuckle, twisting and pulling you apart. It burned your entrance, while his fingertips pressed against your puffy wet insides, stroking, soothing the sting.

“I know it hurts, but I promise it’ll feel better soon.”

He did this for several minutes, the wet squelching the only sound aside from your panting and gasping. Eventually you started to feel good, the burning pain turning up the heat inside your belly. You started begging for more, asking for him to fuck you.

“Asmo, fuck me, please, I’m ready.”

“Not yet, my sweet. I want to make sure your totally stretched for my cock~”

You half sobbed, gripping the sheets in your hand. Your hips wiggled, and he held onto your thigh to keep you still. You almost growled in anger. “Asmo!”

“Impatient, are we?” He was acting mischievous and you hated him for it.

You were ready, you knew it. “Please,” you sniffled out this time, batting your lashes at him.

He took pity on you, or you really were fully prepared to how he wanted you. “All right, my dear,” he lubed up his cock. His hand slid up and down his shaft, and his face was in ecstasy while he did, his cock not having gotten much attention. You wondered what he looked like while masturbating, he had to look so fucking sexy touching himself. Did he deny himself, or did he cum over and over? The thought had your body shivering, and he chuckled like he knew exactly what you were imagining. He felt your desire, so maybe he did.

“Here we go,” he said, lining his well-lubed dick against your stretched open leaking hole, grinning as he did, his leather wings fluttering. Slowly, he pushed inside of you, and it burned at first like his fingers initially did. He exhaled once the tip was fully inside, and you tossed your head back, waiting for him to stuff you to the brim with his cock. He slid in deeper, halfway about, and his length throbbed inside your wet slickness, your pussy doing the same.

“So tight and wet, I love this feeling.” He took your hips in his hands, lifting you upward just off the bed so your ass was barely brushing the sheets. Gasping as he did, you fumbled to grip onto the bedding with your hands. “I’m going to fuck you so good you’re not going to do anything but come to me from now on. I'm the only one who can give this to you, the only one who is allowed to fuck this tight hot pussy.”

“Ahh, Asmo…. Hnngg!” You cried out as he fully entered you, breaking your inner wall. It stung, a sharp pain that was just as bad as you thought it would be. You tasted copper in your mouth even though you were not bleeding.

He leaned over you and kissed under your teary eyes, fingers stroking your hips comfortingly. “It’s all right, take your time. You tell me when, love,” he whispered.

Your chest ached. Your core was sensitive. But you calmed down with him touching you, speaking nonsense adorations. Really feeling him surrounding you inside and out helped, focusing on his cock, warm and thick, pulsating. He wanted to move but would wait for you, and you did not want to wait any longer.

“Move, Asmo, I want to feel you move in me,” you panted out. You tilted your head to meet his mouth, and he kissed you happily, and started to move his hips.

Slowly at first he fucked you so you could get used to him. His cock tugged and pushed your inner walls, never fully exiting but stretching your opening as he slipped back into you until his balls rested just so against you. His cock fit wonderfully, pressed perfectly to that special spot deep inside of you to cause a sharp tingle throughout your body.

“Faster, please,” you asked, licking your dry lips.

He hummed, “Whatever you want, my sweet.”

The quick and sharp thrusts were fantastic. He hit all the right spots, curved your body to meet his in a seamless fit. Your hands were all over him and he loved it, arching into each touch you gave him, whether it was his horns, chest, or hair. He was so hot and firm, and you loved feeling the motions as he fucked you.

You pressed your face into his chest, gripping his shoulders, drooling on him without care. You were bent into him as he slammed his cock deep into you, tour nipples dragged over his firm burning skin. You didn’t hold back the sharp gasps or sudden moans when he hit your mass of tissue that gave of great waves of brilliant pleasure.

“Asmo, feels so good,” you cried out.

“You’re amazing,” he said, pounding you harder. “I want to feel you cum and clench this slick pussy around me.”

After coming so many times already, could you do it once more? Yes, you had to. When would you get this chance again, your first time, and with Asmodeus. You never wanted anything more than him right then. You desperately wanted to cum on his cock.

You pushed against him, following his movements. Push and pull, hips to hips, and wet and messy kissing to go along with it all from an awkward angle of you tilting your head up to meet his enthusiastic mouth. The motions got harder and faster, your body would no doubt be bruised tomorrow. Perhaps you had wanted a gentler first time, but right then, the roughness was something you craved. The rougher the better, and the closer you got to feeling another orgasm approaching.

“Asmo, ‘m so hot,” your fingernails clipped his skin as you clung to him.

“Oh, baby, I feel your desire for me, it’s so good, so sexy.” He bit your ear, tugging it, and you cried out, tightening around his cock.

Your body was tense, toes curling and muscles taught. The room was burning hot and sweat was dripping on your skin as you both moved together to reach an explosive ending.

“Do you want me to touch your clit, my dear? Will that help you cum around me?”

You nodded frantically, “Please, yes, touch me!”

“Hmm, where am I touching you again?” he teased.

You grabbed his horns and pulled yourself up more to stare into his eyes, and you did so with intensity. You had no time for games, you wanted to cum again. “Touch my clit, Asmodeus, so I can cum on your beautiful cock.”

He grinned devilishly and kissed you roughly, the hands previously holding your hips now gripped either side of your face for him to clash his teeth with your own, your body dropping down to the bed and causing as sharp painful pleasure to ignite in your pussy. “I’ve created a horny monster,” he laughed around your lips. "I love it."

You fell back onto the bed, and he crawled over you, his cock twitching inside you. He found a new rhythm, and watched your face as he fucked you.

He looked at your breasts and said firmly, “Pinch those nipples for me.”

You did, and as you touched your pert nipples, his finger found your clitoris and rubbed over it. It was nearly numb, and so swollen and wet, but the pressure aided you and gave you more to add to the list of pleasure spots being stimulated on your entire body. Your nipples tugged by your own hands, your pussy filled by his dick bumping your G-spot, and your clit was being stroked with his skilled finger. It was too much at once to handle.

“I-I’m gonna—”

Euphoria fell over you. Your hands reached up to grip his horns and your legs pulled him into you, almost keeping him seated inside while he pulled your orgasm from your body with his thick cock hitting your spot at the same time his thumb pressed against your clit. Your mouth opened wide, no sound came out, only hot puffs of air, and your hips uncontrollably thrusted as you chased the pleasure to the very end.

“So sexy when you cum on my cock, let me fill you up with my cum.”

Hot, wet pulsations came after he spoke, and he kept still while he filled you with his cum. You looked at him with blurry, heated eyes, mouth dry and body sticky with sweat, tingling from cuming around his dick. He was absolutely beautiful. Glowing eyes, sparkling from orgasm, leather wings fully spread apart, wide and wonderful and gorgeous. He kissed you, then, and you lazily kissed back, spent and exhausted.

He slipped out of you, and you winced. A puddle of wetness escaped you, a mixture of him and you no doubt. How much did he cum inside of you? You couldn’t tell, you were so wet and sticky all over.

He kissed you gently on the forehead, smoothing away your hair sticking to your face. “Hmm, you were amazing, my dear. Rest for a little while, okay? I’ll clean you up.”

You hummed in response, practically dead to the world, and he chuckled. You sank into the pillows, ready to nap. Until he spoke once more, just as you were about to fully slip into unconsciousness.

“Oh, and next time you touch yourself, I want to watch~”

[lvlyhao]

『lifetimes; H.R』

one-shot; huang renjun

A/N: it’s been a hot minute since i posted the teaser but welp it’s finally here :] this has got to be one of my favourite things i’ve ever written so please give it some love!!

𝓖����𝓷𝓻𝓮𝓼: not a lot of it but fluff (♡), angst (❆), fantasy (✯), author’s favourite (ツ)

𝓦𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼: some mentions of death but nothing too explicit

word count: 2.8K

pairing: huang renjun x reader

disclaimer: the characters in the story below do not reflect real people or present real facts. this is purely fictional, and you may not copy, change, translate or repost my work in any way. all rights reserved © cherry-hyejin 2021.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

With chocolate eyes that dazzle golden under the light, he scouts the forest. The canopy is thick above his head and shudders every few seconds when some creature hurriedly passes by. The trees' branches sway in the breeze, and he can almost hear their rumbling under the chirping birds. The ever-so-green grass is dank under his boots, and he can still smell the rain that ended just a couple minutes ago. The Sun, though, seems to have no recollection of that. He is as argent as always, here in the Violet Woods. The place is dazzling, alive, and crisp; far too different from his own home, but also far less foreign. 

Graceful fingers reach for the periwinkle flowers just left from the tallest red oak, kissing their soft petals as he wonders where they are. Renjun is positive he's at the right place, and this is the right time. Noon, by the bush of forget-me-nots. He could only hope they hadn't misremembered this week's chosen spot. Knowing them, it's perfectly possible. Maybe he should head to the muttering roses, where they had met last week, and wait there instead...

Laboured breaths and feathery footsteps sound from behind him a second later, and he doesn't have to turn around to know it's them.

"You're late", he states, fierce gaze still burning in the flowers.

Renjun doesn't expect an apology, not really, but the mellow hand they lay on his shoulder is just as startling. Still kneeling, he twirls to face them at once, and he doesn't miss the dim look of urgency that paints their features.

"Y/N? What happened? Are you okay?"

They don't answer him. Instead, their lips curl into a small smile that Renjun supposes is meant to calm his nerves. It doesn't work very well, or well at all, and he stands up to his full height, holding their hand in his.

Both of their hearts beat loudly, wildly attempting to escape their ribcages. However, neither of them shies away from the proximity. Renjun and Y/N idly stand together for a second, basking in each other's warmth when they speak for the first time today.

"Father knows about you."

If the incoming information is anything short of shocking, he doesn't let it show. His keen, fox-like traits remain the same as he searches their eyes for something else—fear, rage, or any other emotion. Something that would tell him what to do now. 

Nodding slowly, he gently squeezes their fingers, waiting for them to continue. 

The way Renjun looks at them is enough to make Y/N's throat tighten in concern. From the palace, all the way over here, they've been trying to conceal it, but they no longer can. 

It's freezing cold, even against the strings of sunlight that filter through the trees. Its' grip is vicious, instilling into their body a form of despair they had never felt before. It is the dawning realization that their little world is shattering, and there's little they can do to save it.

"...And he calls you a filthy mortal."

Somehow, Renjun finds it in him to snort. Out of all the things he thought they would say, that was certainly not one of them, but it makes him happy. After all those months, they still manage to catch him off-guard. Will they ever stop doing that?

"Aren't you elves so kind?" he laughs, lifting his other hand to gently flick at their pointy ears.

Y/N simply huffs, dodging his fingers and escaping from his hold to pace around the trees.

Watching them in silence, Renjun thinks their race truly is something else. Elegant, breathtaking, stunning, unmatched, perfect. Sharp edges give way to soft curves that make him question the existence of all deities. Should he turn his face in shame? Should he go down on his knees and beg for forgiveness over sins he didn't commit? Should he declare them as his one redemption and worship them until his breath forever ceases?

Sighing dreamily, he thinks he, too, would be an arrogant bastard if he looked anything like an elf.

"Don't put that on us, Renjun. You, humans, have a terrible tendency to destroy and foul the space you occupy" Y/N turns to him. 

Placing their hands on their hips, they know they're falling into the usual routine: bickering about historical events between the two races until one gives up. That's how their rendezvous always begins, and they wouldn't have it any other way, but today something hovers in the air between them.

Doubts.

Renjun can't keep himself from speaking.

"He will banish you some time, Y/N. You know we can't keep this up forever."

He's right, and they know. Had it not been for the strands of sunshine dancing across their frame, they would have shivered. The thought of getting banished from their realm is terrifying. Y/N is still incredibly young for an elf—just over their 75 years—but they've lived enough to know how it goes for elves who get exiled. 

For an elf, banishment isn't being outlawed from your homeland. That is most indisputably sad, and Y/N would cry about it for some time, missing nature's presence from her forests. Although that's not the part of the exile that frightens them: it's the loss of immortality, their lifelines cut too short from straying from their hearths.

Death is no friend of the elves, as everybody knows. The mere idea of perishing from disease or poison is strange to their minds, if not altogether catastrophic. It's not normal, as it is not natural. It's almost reason enough to stop Y/N from making her offer, but the pink haze in their eyes wouldn't allow them to.

"Run away with me then", they mutter, slowly closing the distance between them and the boy once again. Something in Renjun's eyes shifts, and his pink lips part to speak, but not yet. 

"Protect me from the dangers of mortality. We could go south to the Cristalline Planes, Injun", Y/N stops in front of him. "Or, maybe even head west, since I know you've always wanted to see Wistful Shores."

Hope shines bright in their complexion, burning with such richness it nearly turns into despair. What they're doing is not asking—they're pleading, and Renjun nearly collapses to the ground at the honeyed tone in their voice. However, the glow of their fingers, smoothly tracing the shapes of his light robes, grounds him. Their touch is as delicate as the breeze, and it takes all of his self-control not to say "yes" right away.

"And let you give up on eternal life for me? That is possibly the most foolish decision I have ever heard of", he says, stoping their movements to lace his fingers between theirs.  

For a moment, everything around the two of them stills and fades into silence. The woods are quieter than ever before, and even the tree's lullaby comes to a halt. Nothing exists out of their eyes, embedded deep into the others'. 

His might just be Y/N's favourite thing in the whole entire world. The vibrant, sunny brown of his orbs reminds them of the goodness still left in mortals. They shimmer, sparkle and flicker with every bit of emotion Renjun feels, for they are too honest not to. It would be nothing short of a crime if they ever lied about his heart.

Y/N's are what he would describe as literal gateways. To where? Well, that, he will always argue. Some nights, when the stars are out, he could swear the entire universe is right there, before him. On other occasions, when what surrounds them are the glistening streaks of dawn, Renjun sees magic in its purest form. He could spend all of his life staring at them and still feel like there's too much left to explore.

"I don't think this foolish decision is yours to make, then", they decide, lightly squeezing his hands and glancing down to the ground. "I would rather live one more hour with you than one hundred lifetimes on my own."

There is a sharp intake in his breath as if a blade had buried itself deep in his stomach. It pains him just the same, he realizes. Hearing them say that and knowing they speak the truth brings tears to his eyes because he knows this is the point where he has to stop them. Stop them from wondering about the "what if's" and from asking that of him. Gods know if they ask again, he won't have the strength to decline.

"I, on the other hand, would like for you to live a very long, happy, fulfilling life," he remarks, hoping the shaking in his voice is not too evident. "And for that to happen, you can't be that much of an idiot, okay? Don't give that away for some human prince, Y/N."

"And what if that human prince is all I care about? What if he is my entire existence, and my one reason to sleep through the nights is to dream about him? What then, Renjun?" they challenge. 

It's rare to see elves speaking in any way that is not moderate, light, but the fire in their voice is nothing like he's ever seen. It's the same anger that fuels them to pull him closer, resting their palms on his warm cheeks and wiping away the tears he didn't know have fallen. 

"Then you must tell me what does that make me. What is this between us?" Renjun mutters, eyes closing with soft flutters. Guilt claws at his chest for not immediately putting an end to it but savouring the moment, feeling himself fall a bit deeper for the elf as each second ticks by.

"Love", Y/N simply states, sighing when his hands come together to hold the small of their back. "It's love."

"A part of me wishes you had not said that", he leans into their touch. "Had you said 'nothing' and stopped torturing me, my heart would have been broken, but I would have been fine. How can I be, now, when all you've just done makes me cherish you more?" he chuckles bitterly.

He knows what they're about to say, and he can't stand to hear it, so he continues talking, eyes indolently opening to scan their features.

"Things are different for us, Y/N. While you don't have to worry about succeeding the throne, that is my fate. To be a good ruler for my people when my own father dies. I can't leave them behind", Renjun breathes, hating the way their hopeful look melts into denial.

"You have a brother, you know? Leave him to rule. We've both seen what it's like to wear the crown, Injun", they grimace. 

It is true. Being part of the royal family means you grow used to many horrible sights and dark secrets. He can't help but wonder what it will be like to live all of that and not have you to keep him sane.

Shaking his head to dissolve querying thoughts, Renjun attempts to focus on something else that is not them. It's dangerous to be that close, feeling their own ragged breaths fawning over his face. He is just one touch away from all he has ever wanted, but one touch away is still forbidden. In that one touch lies his downfall.

As if hearing his prayers, the wind blows stronger, running through his silken, dark locks and messing up Y/N's. It backfires, though. The urge he has to resist now is to run his hands through their hair, pushing away all of the wild strands that frame their face, and he curses. Nothing could ever make this any less difficult for him.

"If Chenle ever becomes king, I pity the people that will live under his hand." 

He smiles, and Y/N realizes he must be attempting to make a joke. They wish they could laugh, but the conclusion behind his words hangs in the air. He won't change his mind, will he?

A sob leaves their body as suddenly as the tears come. Their vision turns misty, and the cold awareness that hits them is too much to manage. Wordlessly, Y/N falls to their knees, hugging their own body in attempts to calm the heartbreaking cries pouring from their lips. The pleasant spring evening turns cold and unforgiving, and the elf loses their bearings for a second, only to realize Renjun has dropped to the ground in front of them.

Neither of them dares to open their eyes when two bodies become one, and the only thing they know is each other. Fingers grasp at robes, armour and leather, and rough sobs blend together in utter heartbreak. Renjun pulls them so close he's not sure which limbs are his or whose tears he's tasting, but it hardly matters. This is where they end.

How much time they spend lost in each other's embraces is unclear. Neither Y/N nor Renjun knows, and they don't want to. Acknowledging time is dangerous here because it means accepting this moment won't last forever, and that is something they can't—won't do. It won't be so until they let it, right?

Wrong, and they know it. The Sun is going down.

When sobs have turned into whimpers and clutches have turned into caresses, Y/N takes the courage to pull away and look at him.

The prince's eyes are red and puffy, much like theirs, they imagine. His pale cheeks are stained with dry tears, and his pretty lips still tremble from the deep breaths. He doesn't meet their gaze until they call his name.

"Renjun", they call once more, admiring the blue hour lights shifting across his dashing features. "I—" Y/N gasps, and he's suddenly terrified of what they'll say. "I think maybe... maybe we should no longer meet. I can't bear to look at you and know you're not mine to take."

Just like that, his fears were confirmed. In his mind, he knows this is how it was supposed to go all along. This is for the best, he reminds himself, even if right now it feels like having your soul ripped to shreds.

"Don't say it like that, Y/N. I've always been, and I'll always be yours", he flashes a watery smile. "Perhaps just... in another lifetime."

The pain becomes too much to handle, and all they can do is close the space between them again. Their last and first kiss is salty, from the tears they both still shed and bittersweet, from the goodbye it speaks.

How poetic, they think, to say goodbye right by a bush of forget-me-nots. I'll surely never forget him.

"Go now", Y/N whispers as they part, "before I kiss you again and never let you go."

A heartbroken chuckle leaves his lips while he touches his forehead against theirs. 

"Remember me, Y/N", he begs, slowly dragging them to their feet. "Remember me like this, young and well, learning what the flowers you mark our spots with look like. Always see me like this: grateful and completely in love with you."

"How could I not, my prince?"

And in truth, how could they not?

To say Y/N never forgot about Renjun is a misunderstanding. They never forgot about him, and they never stopped thinking about him either. His are every emotion they've felt. Every split of every second in every day of their life was and is dedicated to him. His smile is all they see when they close their eyes, and his laughter sounds right by their side whenever they visit the forget-me-not fields. He lived in all of the things surrounding them, and even in the name of that corner right by the tallest red oak: Prince's Lair.

Likewise, his very soul was bound to Y/N from the day they met to the day he died, still in reverence of how much devotion it is possible to feel for someone. He grew older and eventually found a family, yes, and he even went to war. His eyes held visions he would never wish for anyone to see, but they were still his first thought in the morning and the last one in the night when he allowed himself to weep for their lost future. He got to see the most distant borders of many kingdoms, and he got to meet people in all of them. Yet, no creature on this Earth ever compared to Y/N—his Y/N.

Even at the tender age of 18, Renjun was wise. 

Aeons of praying upon the stars never changed their fortune, but maybe there is something else to their fates.

Y/N never stopped loving Renjun, and Renjun loved them until his days were over, but their paths never crossed again.

Perhaps in another lifetime.

[glitxhwayventeen]

Lonely Together

Jihoon: Chapter 3 (Ain’t Easy)

Characters: Jihoon x female reader

Genre/Warnings: multi-member au (different scenarios), werewolf au, fantasy, angst, fluff, potential blood mentions, genocide mentions, health issues, panic/anxiety attack. Any others will be put as warnings when future chapters are thought up/written.

Author’s Note: Sorry for how short this is. The vaccine’s really killing my body. My head his pounding from how bad my headache is so I only managed to finish the one chapter. Let’s hope tomorrow is better 🤞🏼

Please remember that all of these chapters and the content within them are a work of fiction! They’re just for fun/entertainment!

Bold= Dialogue Italics= Thoughts

🥀 & ☁️

Lonely Together Master List

Chapter 3: Ain’t Easy

You stirred awake, having been knocked out from your little outburst for almost a solid day apparently. You realized that you were now laying in Jihoon’s bed, it smelt like him. You could also see the sun beams make their way across the walls. Your apparent mate was sitting in a chair next to you, holding your small hand inside his. You fluttered your eyelids open completely, widening them hesitantly for the day.

“Oh good. You’re awake. I was getting really worried” He sighed, running his free hand through his hair and rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand fondly with the other.

“What- what happened?” You groggily asked, voice hoarse from the lack of use.

You sat up to sit upright and rubbed your eyes to awaken yourself more. You could tell you were in his room. You could smell him all over, that sweet honey smell was intoxicating to you. You could never get enough of it. You could also see you were in a bigger shirt still, though this one was different than the one you were wearing when you were awake before. It had 3/4 sleeves and was a soft cotton feeling that made you want to cuddle into your blankets and pillows to sleep again.

“Well after… everything, you go a little too overwhelmed and passed out.” Jihoon informed you, quickly pushing himself to sit on the bed next to you and rubbed your back sweetly.

You could also tell that you had been changed into a pair of sweatshorts, which you were grateful for. And given the conversation you had before you had probably passed out, there was a fairly good chance either Jihoon changed you or one of the other mates did. Though you highly doubted that Jihoon would let ANYONE else touch your naked body as your mate.

If he had known more about your love life and who you were attracted to, he may have been a little more open to someone other than him changing you. But for all he knew you were attracted to everyone in his pack. So he wasn’t about to risk it. He was a very private person and he figured from what he knew about you, you were too. Not that any of that even really mattered at this point, there was just as good a chance he would’ve refused to let anyone else touch you even if he had known about your sexuality. He could already feel his territorial wolf instincts for you getting stronger. And the more time he spent around you, the worse it got.

“Oh…” you trailed, still trying to come to terms with being suddenly so conscious after having been dreaming for such a long time.

“Does stuff like that happen often to you?” He questioned you, giving you a warm concerned smile.

He couldn’t lie, seeing you passed out made him beyond terrified. He had just confessed to you that he was your mate and then you blacked out. He was worried you’d reject him. But he was just as worried for your own health. You were small, even smaller than him, and you seemed really tired and weak all the time. What if this was something that happened to you a lot? What if he couldn’t help you get better? He didn’t like the idea of you being sick. He didn’t like the thought of having to see you unconscious from fainting. He didn’t like it at all.

“It used to happen a lot when I was younger, and only when I got scared or nervous. My tribe’s healer used to say that I was… missing part of me? Like part of my soul had been missing? Or something like that? I dont know, I don’t really remember. It was a long time ago. The passing out hasn’t happened much since I’ve been on my own though.” You told him, your head abruptly pounding at the mere mention of your health issues causing you to wince in slight pain.

“Are you okay?” Jihoon cautiously putting the back of his hand to your head, eyes full of panic.

“Y-Yeah. I’m fine. How- how long was I out?” You wondered aloud, turning your eyes to him to get a better look at him.

Truth be told, you were out for a while. Jihoon hadn’t left your bed for nearly three days now. And when he had to for bathroom or showering purposes, he had some of the mates sit with you until he could rush back. He was worried sick about you, Seungcheol had to have Soonyoung practically force feed him so he would eat. He could help it though, he knew that had it been any of his brothers with their mates, they’d have done the same thing. When your mate was sad or sick, you didn’t care about taking care of yourself. You only cared about them and their well being. It was just their natural instinct.

He hesitated for a minute before he spoke, trying his best to come up with words that might sooth you rather than worry you, “Well.. let’s just say You’ve missed a few meals…”

“How many’s a few?” You pushed him to give you a less vague answer.

“Wellllll… we just got done with lunch… so Nine in total give or take” Jihoon earnestly let out, bringing his hand to play with the small locks of your hair.

Upon hearing his answer, you nearly jumped out of the bed nearly three feet in the air. But thankfully, your mate had stopped you from moving your limbs so quickly. He didn’t want you to end up collapsing from the lack of muscle use you’ve had the past few days.

“Nine! Jesus why didn’t anyone try and get me up that’s like three whole days!?!” You almost started to hyperventilate again. Your sight was beginning to turn fuzzy. You felt your heartbeat fasten in your throat. Your mind was buzzing in thought, you couldn’t stop it.

The water on the bedside table started to shake and pull out of the glass while your state worsened. Jihoon quickly picked up on what was happening with you and grabbed you by your face gently to get you to focus on him. He didn’t want you to pass out again, but he also didn’t want you using your powers accidentally from the shock of the whole situation.

“Just breathe (Y/N) you’re gonna pass out again…” he rested his forehead on yours and continued to try and ease your heart rate and calm your anxiety.

“One in… Two out… Three in… Four out… Five in…. That’s it… Just like that.” He cooed at you, rubbing your temples lovingly before sitting you back up straight.

Your breathing finally evened out enough for your vision to return to normal. Once you felt your chest start to slow down, your brain started to cease in thought.

“You sure that doesn’t usually happen?” He joked, still clearly concerned and half serious about your current state.

You shook your head slowly from side to side in response. You were grateful he was there to comfort you, but you still had so many questions running through your head. Your thoughts were going a mile a minute again and you didn’t know what to tackle first or what was most pressing.

“…Jihoon?” You hesitantly spoke to grab his attention. He already loved the way you said his name, it was like listening to a symphony in his head and he couldn’t get enough of it.

“Yes (Y/N)?” He responded while holding your small hand in his larger one, enjoying the way it fit in his perfectly. He looked at you with eyes of such love and adoration that you began to feel nervous.

“What are we gonna do?” You looked away from the dazzling man in front of you to instead down at the both of your hands that were laying in your lap. You began to fidget with the tips of his fingers to distract yourself so you could get the burn in your cheeks to die down.

“I- I don’t know. I never thought I’d get a mate, let alone have one show up bleeding at my doorstep. But now you’re… here…” he thought aloud, confusion masking his face the entire time.

He was glad he had found you, but he definitely never even once considered that the universe would bring you to him. He never thought of himself as someone’s boyfriend let alone someone’s mate. He wasn’t sure he would be very good at it, but he knew with you there he had to try. He just needed to figure out how to be one…

You took a moment to think. He was clearly just as lost as you were. But you knew what your heart felt for him, and you knew that being mates meant one of two things.

“Well… do you even want a mate Jihoon? From what everyone says, you don’t like being close to people. And I know I work better alone. So what do you want to do?” You anxiously awaited his response.

You could practically see the gears in his head turning. On one hand, he liked being independent and preferred his solitude. But on the other hand, he knew he would already die for you if he had to choose between himself or you. So, logically, that only left him with one alternative.

“I want us to be together (Y/N). I know it’ll be… a challenge, but I also know that as long as I have you, I’ll do whatever it takes to make it work.” He finally answered, bringing his hands to cup your cheeks that were still semi-swollen from your long rest.

Tears began to form in your tired eyes, “But… how do you know it’ll all work out? What if we can’t figure out how to cohabitate. We’re both so single alone, what if we can’t be a couple?” You whimpered, eyes full of fear as you looked into his caring ones.

“I won’t lie, it ain’t gonna be easy. But together, we’ll be okay.” He assured you, moving his gaze down to your lips.

He looked back at your face, silently asking for permission. You gave him a small smile and nodded, giving him the go ahead. With that, he leaned down to press his pillowy lips to your relatively chapped ones.

He moved softly, careful not to move too fast or too far so you would stay comfortable the entire time. Kissing him felt like you could actually walk on water if you tried. He made all your worries melt away with such a simple action. It made your heart flutter in a way it never had before.

He soon pulled away from you and leaned his forehead against yours, pecking the top of your button nose gently before a large smile formed on his perfect mouth.

“I suppose you could be right…” you trailed, teasing the small wolf slightly before breaking out in small fits of giggles while you tried to hold yourself back.

“You’re gonna have to get used to that you know.” He chuckled while caressing your jawline and gazing at you like you were a piece of artwork.

“Get used to what? Kissing?” You blushed at the thought, nuzzling your face into his warm hand to hide it.

“No- Me being right.” He declared, pushing his chest out with pride causing you to really burst out in full on laughter.

You could already feel the difficult times ahead of you both, but you also knew you would do whatever it took to stay with him. He made everything around you feel safe and at home. He’s all you ever needed.

(Updated 9/6)

[fictionadventurer]

Fairy Tale Retellings

I know that @magpie-trove has been recommended enough books to fill several years, but since fairy tale retellings are my niche, I’m going to throw some more titles out there. (I’m limiting myself to 1) books/short stories 2) that I enjoyed 3) that I haven’t seen mentioned in connection to the original post. I’m also trying not to branch out into too many tales, so I’m going to be leaving out some slightly more obscure ones).

Before I go into the specifics, I’m just going to say, that if you only read three books out of this list, read Entwined by Heather Dixon (12 Dancing Princesses),  Brine and Bone by Kate Stradling (Little Mermaid) and Valiant by Sarah Macguire. (And if you only read one series, make it Regina Doman’s Fairy Tale Novels.)

Cinderella

Before Midnight by Cameron Dokey: Short, sweet, autumny retelling that I like for the atmosphere and the loving relationship between Cinderella and her stepfamily.

Silver Woven In My Hair by Shirley Rousseau Murphy: Extremely short, traditional retelling, starring a mistreated girl who collects Cinderella stories while being in one of her own. Has a sweet charm to it.

Soot and Slipper by Kate Stradling: A short retelling set in a traditional fairy tale kingdom, but with an excellent plot twist. I like it very much until the ending entangles it in a far-too-complicated magic system.

The Reluctant Godfather by Allison Tebo: A sassy retelling starring a grumpy fairy baker who tries to get out of his godfather duties by getting his two charges to fall in love with each other. Gets points for a unique, almost Wodehousish parody element that is an extreme breath of fresh air in a genre dominated by YA romances.

The Spinner and the Slipper by Camryn Lockhart: Mashes up the story with Rumpelstiltskin. Clearly the work of a very young author, but I’m putting it on here for the fun use of the fairies from A Midsummer Night’s Dream.

Beauty and the Beast

Unseen Beauty by Amity Thomsen: Traditional fantasy retelling from the POV of one of the invisible servants. Writing that’s a cut above most self-pubbed books, with extra points for featuring a female friendship that’s just as important as the main romance.

Snow White

Fairest Son by H.S.J. Williams: Gender-flipped version involving the fae. Is the only Snow White retelling that had me uncertain for a while of where the plot was going to go.

Sleeping Beauty

A Long, Long Sleep by Anna Sheehan: A sci-fi retelling involving a girl who was regularly kept in stasis for the convenience of her corporate mogul parents, then was left in stasis for more than 70 years while the apocalypse happened. She wakes up to a world that’s recovered to become a very different place and has to deal with the emotional fallout of everything that’s happened to her. And it’s intense. This book has the distinction of being one of only two books with scenes that made me put the book down so I could sob uncontrollably. (The other is Rapunzel Let Down). There’s a little bit of content (a couple of kissing scenes that veer toward steamy, and use of futuristic swear words that have clear connections to modern swear words) but easily skippable.

The Little Mermaid

Brine and Bone by Kate Stradling: On first read, I appreciated it as a faithful-to-Andersen retelling, but found it otherwise forgettable. I reread it earlier this year and cannot understand how I possibly came to that conclusion. This has beautiful character work in a unique world that, I cannot stress this enough, is loyal to the Andersen version while appreciating the true joy of that ending.

Silent Mermaid by Brittany Fichter: First half had some excellent world-building and interesting conflicts that fell apart in a more cliche second half, but I remember it being enjoyable overall.

The Princess and the Pea

The Bruised Princess by A.G. Marshall: Part of her Once Upon a Short Story collection. They’re all decent-to-great, but this one is my favorite, a sweet little romance that makes the story make a surprising amount of sense.

I need to give a shout-out to my favorite retelling of this tale. I can’t remember the title. It was on Fanfiction.net back in the day. (I tried looking it up, but it wasn’t part of the collection I assumed it was in). It was from the POV of the servant who had to stuff all twenty mattresses. She has allergies and is miserable by the time she’s done, and gets her revenge by stuffing the top mattress with gravel.

The Twelve Dancing Princesses

Entwined by Heather Dixon: One of my very top favorite retellings, a creative and whimsical and touching story focusing on the twelve close-knit sisters and their relationship with their buttoned-up father in the aftermath of their mother’s death.

The Brave Little Tailor

Valiant by Sarah McGuire: The only retelling I’ve ever seen of this tale, starring a girl who has to masquerade as a boy to get work as a tailor, and winds up entangled in a kingdom’s battle against giants. The first act is very boring, but it turns into a very well-done retelling with excellent characters and worldbuilding.

Bonus: Series

These are series that retell several fairy tales in the same universe, and I thought it’d be easier to present them all together than separating them out by fairy tale.

The Fairy Tale Novels by Regina Doman: Catholic retellings set in the modern day. They have their weak points, but they’re my gold standard for how to write a modern retelling and how to write a religious romance.

The Shadow of the Bear: Snow White and Rose Red. Fun and adventurous. Gets points for introducing me to Chesterton.

Black as Night: Snow White, focusing on the Snow White character from the first book. Darker and more intense, but with some deep themes.

Waking Rose: Sleeping Beauty, focusing on the Rose Red character’s adventures in college. By far the most popular book in the series, it’s overlong, but extremely good.

The Midnight Dancers: The Twelve Dancing Princesses, focusing on mostly new characters with a side character from Waking Rose in the soldier role. A slighter story with a pricklier main character, but it’s a strong contender for my favorite in the series, exploring the connections between beauty and truth and goodness.

Alex O’Donnell and the 40 Cyberthieves: Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves, starring Waking Rose side characters. This is a lighter adventure tale. All the stuff surrounding the hacking subplot is slightly ridiculous, but it’s one of the only YA novels I’ve ever seen that explores the realistic nuances of considering marriage with someone very different from you.

Rapunzel Let Down: Rapunzel. By far the darkest themes (it’s classified as an adult book). All new characters with some cameos. I thought it was decent on first read, but on reread, it blew me away with some of its themes (Except for a very melodramatic fifth act).

The Andari Chronicles by Kenley Davidson: Retellings set in a very mildly magical fantasy world, mostly focused on political intrigue.

Traitor’s Masque: Cinderella. 60% longer than it needs to be because of the extremely wordy writing style, and it makes me tear my hair out every time I try rereading, but the core conflict between the two brothers is compelling.

The Countess and the Frog: The Frog Prince. A short prequel novella focusing on a side character from the first book. I think it’s only available as a freebie on the author’s site but may be one of my favorite romances because the leads are so cute and sensible together.

Goldheart: Rumpelstiltskin. My favorite in the series, focused on a shy painter given an impossible task and the friends who help her get through it. The writing style’s much more concise here.

Pirouette: The Twelve Dancing Princesses. Political-intrigue focused. Also much wordier than it needs to be, though not as much as the first book. Twists the fairy tale in extremely interesting ways and has some great characters. (Prologue and epilogue are some of my favorite bits of writing in the series).

Shadow and Thorn: Beauty and the Beast. The most magical book in the series, and the most confusing because of that. There was one really cool moment with Beauty’s father, but otherwise I didn’t care for it all that much.

Daughter of Lies: Snow White with spies. Short, but fun. Reminds me of a Georgette Heyer farce.

Path of Secrets: Red Riding Hood with spies. I remember nothing about this story, which may tell you all you need to know.

Once: Six Historically Inspired Fairy Tales: What I think of as a kind of spin-off to the Rooglewood collections, this novella collection by six different authors retells six different fairy tales. My favorites are a dark but beautiful “Little Match Girl” retelling set in WWII, a steampunkish Rumpelstiltskin, and With Blossoms Gold, a Rapunzel retelling set in the Renaissance. (The only one I didn’t like at all was the Sleeping Beauty story).

Destined series by Kaylin Lee: Includes retellings of Cinderella, Rapunzel, Beauty and the Beast, Red Riding Hood, Snow White and Sleeping Beauty in one interconnected storyline. I’ve only read the first four; they’re okay-to-decent books whose main strength is the unique world they’re set in (think magical steampunky 1930s, which seems like a work of genius after you’ve been reading through a million retellings set in generically fairy tale kingdoms). My favorite is the fourth, Betrayed, which retells Little Red Riding Hood and mostly stands alone (until the last act veers it into a really complicated overarching plot).

[my-hyperfixation-trash-can]

Hetalia’s Russia and DID/OSDD 1-b

Hey! So @autistic-hetalia your blog said you accept neurodiverse head canons and I thought maybe I could share this one with your blog!

I believe the Hetalia character of Russia has OSDD 1-b (Otherwise Specified Disociative Disorder or possibly DID, being Dissociative Identity Disorder) and this is why.

Just a note,

There is no such thing as an evil alter. Do not demonize people with DID or Other Dissociative Disorders! Those with this disorder are victims of Trauma and are likely to continue being victims of abusers, rarely do they become abusers!

Anyways, -cough cough- I’d love if anyone wants to add to this with more evidence!

1. Russia had a traumatic childhood

He is shown to have had abusive bosses who would punish him. He is threatened by one to invent steam power by the end of the week or be punished. Tartar Yoke mentioned by Lithuania as one of his bosses was also known for his cruelty. So the Authority figured in his youth were often cruel and held power over him.

His environment is cold and unforgiving much like an abusive home. Russia often describes his home as cold, quiet and lonely. He rarely found support from his land and often struggled to get by. The environment and home were harsh with little support. It is also implied he froze to death each Winter, and celebrated the year he didn’t.

This is on top of having to deal with other nations attacking him, making him feel helpless. Many nations “bullied” him in attempts to conquer him. He was mobed and pursed every day by Mongolia. That is exhausting to have everyone around you be a threat. (Lithuania and his sisters were the only nations kind to him in his youth) Early on, he learns that force and strength are what matters.

Next point tw sexual abuse and assault

He also felt a great deal of responsibility to care for his sisters. He was close to them, as they were experiencing similar issues and not violent to him. He had to be the strong one. Belarus and her unhealthy attachment to Russia depending on the age she started her behaviors may have also contributed to his trauma. All of the siblings have unhealthy attitudes towards boundaries with their bodies and the bodies of others, implying another type of abuse. Ukraine and Belarus took victim roles. Russia took on an abusers. Ukraine only ever suggests using her body to get what she wants as if never taught anything else, even as a child that’s what she knows. Belarus I don’t know where to begin, but her staring off is certainly dissociative like, paired with other trust issues. In a diary entry she is stated to have possibly messaged Ukraine’s breasts, once again showing more unhealthy boundaries with attachments to loved ones. Someone taught her that. And Russia, who internalized his abusers, acted out his abuse on others as implied with Lithuania looking distressed dressed as a maid and Russia holding a whip. In another non canon game Himaura worked on, Bulgaria in the bad ending is shown tied up and naked implied to be whipped by Russia as Russia says this is “tradition” or possibly more routine implying this is something he does often.

The idea with dissociative disorders is that the repetitive trauma that happens has to be too much for the mind of that individual child in comparison to the culture they’re raised in, and it conflicts with getting their needs met. And to the countries, all of them know Russia has had a life with far more conflicts in his youth than most, and a great deal of pain.

2. Russia has General Winter (GW for short)

General Winter manifests when Russia is being attacked by other nations in order to defend him, or to be a tormentor to Russia himself (such as freezing him to death each Winter).

This is oddly similar to what is known as a persecutor alter. These alters have the goal in mind to protect the host or body, but they’re a bit misguided in how to do that. They might take on the form of an abuser, or something outside the body, this turns into being an Introject. I’ll post a link to more info on DID/OSDD at the end of the post. The educational videos playlist will have a video on alter roles.

Russia’s bosses often abused him, and if he had an alter like this it would make sense that it would take the form of a general, someone in power who feels so much bigger and stronger than him. A boss who can push him around and make him behave in a way that will avoid further trauma from the real abusers. Winter the season, being another tormenting force of the environment, is another abuser, and it makes sense GW would take that into his identity. Russia feels helpless to it. It is also worth noting that other nations who also had to deal with Harsh winters do not have General Winter as an ally. He only protects Russia.

It would also explain why General Winter protects Russia from others attacking him. He took the ideologies of his abusers to heart, so GW pushes people away and treats them like threats. He feels strong by holding power and fear over others and force. If I can be stronger, no one can hurt me or would dare try, this is the mentality.

I believe GW can manifest as he does because Russia has magic. It’s canon that Russia can do magic or has a strange magic of his own, so whose to say GW can’t utilize it too. Perhaps even to let himself manifest sometimes in his spirit like form. This is more a headcanon or idea though.

Russia himself however is shown to be very passive with his bosses. These are people who hold power over him that he can’t really run away from or fight. So his response is to faun or freeze. This is basically stated in the comics (picture below.) and it’s often that alters have a specific role. Russia’s would be to people please those who he can’t fight. Making General Winter’s job to defend from attack.

3. Russia is shown to dissociate

When he is told to do an impossible amount of work, he just straight up loses himself in a fantasy immediately to escape the reality of the situation. There are other instances too, some in his childhood directly, but this was the most overt. This is from To your Hearts content, Russia!

4. Russia Is Inconsistent

There are times when Russia feels very different from moment to moment.

He goes from open about himself to swiftly sadistic and cold. He has moments of childish behavior to moments of maturity. These, when combined with the rest of my points, are worth noting. He both wants to hurt (possibly destroy) the others, but also be liked by them?

You can’t destroy people and have them like you.

The baltic Trio who lived a substantial amount of time with him still are confused by his unpredictable behavior. Each encounter The Baltic’s have with Russia is marked by a fear of what he might do. And not having certainty, thus they say things without knowing if it’s safe or not.

Even to Lithuania, (Whom Russia often shows Vulnerability to, in moments like bloody Sunday and Sharing his dreams in Outsourcing Sequel)living with Russia feels a strange theme park where he never knew what to expect. Lithuania has been shown to be great in strategy and games of wit, and a commendable leader with great people skills, yet he only has a general idea of Russia’s behavior? He is seen advising Prussia and Moldova that Russia likes it when people laugh or cry easily (This being predictable to Russia and thus easier to navigate social situations with) so it’s not like Lithuania isn’t paying attention. Russia shows moments of vulnerability and his thought process in panels like Bloody Sunday, which is quite telling as to what he believes are his responsibilities, and how the world works.

Now the real question is “why is he like this?”

He only understands the world from the point of view of someone who still lives in the abuse and knows no other options. He never had anyone teach or show him different. His world is ruled by who is the strongest, and if you can obey the strong you won’t get hurt or discarded. “We don’t want children who can’t play nice,” sounds like something an abuser told him frequently in his youth.

Russia just doesn’t have a support system due to his strained relationships with everyone. So he keeps relying on old defense mechanisms, hence letting General Winter step in when something threatens his sense of safety.

Nearly Every time (at least that’s what I noticed) Russia is emotionally vulnerable to someone, he suddenly changes to be sadistic or scary. It successfully pushes the person away and Reestablishes the fear of Russia in the individual, returning him to a state of being feared and alone where none of the other countries can hurt him. Examples below.

France talking to Russia after meetings and asking him personal questions would result in Russia ending the conversation by scaring him with a scsry remark and aura suddenly.

Russia Comforting China after Japan turns on him, he is kind and compassionate at first, but suddenly changes at the end.

The Baltic Trio never knows what to expect. He frequently uses fear and force to keep them.

This behavior seems directly contradictory to wanting friends and having a warm and lively home. So GW still reacts with a trauma response, and Russia reacts in line with his wishes of making friends and having others around him. The Use of force and intimidation is naturally the middle ground between their wishes. Russia believes everyone is his friends, and doesn’t see how his behavior is pushing people away. Other times he seems to want friends to like him back, like when he sent France an anonymously written letter to his radio show. However he has wishes that contradict.

Now, I think he sees friends as people he can keep near him that he enjoys the company of. (This doesn’t need to be mutual or involve trust, just force) but those wants directly contradict.

I think GW is passively influencing him with some of the behavior rather than switching out right, but either option still would have the same effects. Passive influence is when an alter is close to the front, or feels/thinks something strong enough that it affects the person at the front. Making them behave in a way that is ooc for them, but not the other who intentionally or unintentionally influenced them.

This would explain sudden shifts to a cruel threatening position with other nations, something that will most likely always be a threat GW needs to defend against. He is particularly cold and defensive with anyone that has a chance to hurt him, (or tries to look into his psyche) regardless of if they made a move to do so.

More on passive influence can be found in the sources at the bottom under educational playlist.

5. Misc. Points of knowledge

Russia’s character originally was meant to be a cry baby, and only when he drinks, has a complete switch in personality. Frankly I’m glad he was changed to the complex guy we have now. However I think this concept wasn’t fully lost.

His character song, Winter, seems to talk of him experiencing freezing to death each Winter. Further adding to his repetitive trauma.

It is not unheard of for nations to have disorders and conditions. Australia has ADHD, Prussia is Albino, Lithuania has severe anxiety (and possibly PTSD), so who is to say a nation like Russia can’t have a dissociative disorder?

It is stated in one of Russia’s character bios that “General Winter is always with him”, however where? I don’t physically see him, but perhaps we can’t because he’s sharing a body with Russia.

In summary

Russia dissociates under stress

Russia has repetitive traumas and an ongoing history of abuse all his life

Russia has inconsistent behavior and attachments

General Winter could certainly be a separate personality and functions exactly like an introject/persecutor alter would to their host.

Russia acts out and damages relationships, acting in inconsistent ways that might play out his own abuse, and/or reflect his desires to keep others near him.

As a note, I actually have DID, so this could be my projecting, but please don’t yell at me about how I made a “villain” have DID and feed into evil alters and split Stareotypes. I would only like to raise interest and provide an example of what a misrepresented disorder can look like. And the links below are there if you want to make your mind up for yourself and educate yourself if this inspires your portrayal of him! This isn’t meant to be insensitive, I’ve been working on this post for months to word it as sensitive as I could while also acknowledging Russia is still responsible for his and GW’s actions. Saying he has DID isn’t to excuse it, just explain it.

Don’t erase his victims, but don’t erase that he also is one.

(This blog below was also really helpful, but this post covers a lot of Russia’s earlier trauma and his mentality)

https://ellawritesficssometimes.tumblr.com/post/175060886956

Research for DID and OSDD 1b below: (along with links to comics)

https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLm56LzW0BA_P7-yL3rK7INZDDozTayJvJ

https://www.hetarchive.net/blog/tag/russia/

http://hetarchive.net/tag/russia/

http://www.hetarchive.net/blog/2013/10/11/blog-entry-1411/

https://hetalia.fandom.com/wiki/Russia

https://www.hetarchive.net/blog/2019/01/29/about-the-fact-that-russias-history-is-too-scary/

Below is for an example of dissociation:

http://www.hetarchive.net/blog/2019/02/28/to-your-hearts-content-russia/

https://youtu.be/ZV3ToVA5BqQ

https://did-research.org/origin/comorbid/dd/osdd_udd/index.html

[missorgana]

would everything be different today?

characters/pairings: thor and loki, loki/mobius

fandom: marvel cinematic universe

rating: general

word count: 3913

warning: canon character death

summary: Prior to Loki's arrest, Thor attempts to save them and is arrested by the TVA himself. And sure, he doesn't understand much of this institution, but he's pretty sure this Mobius has taken a liking to his younger sibling. (pre-canon, thor pov)

(still obsessing over loki, who’s surprised? no one! half of this fic was written at 2am when i was Not sober, my beloved Cat / @howgodforgives read it for me tho because they’re perfect!! 💖 this is an au... supposed to happen pre-canon... inspired by this post and this post, i love them too much and simply mashed the 2 concepts together so ya. enjoy ??)

read on ao3

Thor thought he could just do one thing. And when Steve revealed his plan about utilizing their time traveling device, just one last time, the offer his friend came with for him to go back was something he had to.

He had a chance to save Loki.

Now, he knows this is far from thought out, far from logical, and Thor never told Steve when he himself was traveling to. They trusted each other, Avengers and all.

Thor knows he could save their mother, too, if he wanted, but perhaps grief was clouding his vision because he’s simply lost too many, and he’ll be damned if he’d let Loki slip away from him after everything they’ve been through.

They were making progress… weren’t they?

It surely couldn’t be another one of his tricks, and although Thor has been naive in the past, he simply can’t lose her. Not now. Not yet.

And so he goes back for them, and he gets there, he’s on the ship, Heimdall and Loki and Valkyrie and Korg and  Thanos  , and Thor’s never been prone to irrational anger, he  tries , but everything happening all over again in such an overwhelming way nearly has sparks jumping from eyes and fingertips.

Thor is so close. And then he isn’t.

He can’t comprehend what happens, but he’s out of time, out of place, and he’s in what resembles most those office buildings he’s seen so many of Midgard. Being crammed in an elevator with these strange people gave him eerie flashbacks to Sakaar, until he’s finally greeted by a significantly short human, brown suit, silver hair and moustache and a lop-sided grin.

Naturally, Thor smiles back in the midst of his confusion, it’s only good manners, you hear.

“Ah!” the man exclaims, patting his elbow with the other hand guiding him forward, “The god of thunder himself! Mighty pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

He nods, following, unsure still what’s going on. But Thor’s made too many enemies of a human lifetime, a long time ago, and he wouldn’t want to get on these humans’ bad side, even though they technically kidnapped him… peculiar.

If Loki was here, they’d probably have their knife ready at lightning speed. Classic Loki.

“Well, thank you! I wish I could say the same, but I’m not sure… where I am,” Thor answers. This really does look like an office, one the Midgardians had a decade or so, probably, before they updated themselves. Modernization, that’s what it’s called, silly humans.

“Fair is fair,” the grey haired human turns to him, “Welcome to the Time Variance Authority, TVA for short! I think I speak for everyone here when I say we’re excited to have you here.”

The man chuckles, and Thor doesn’t know if it’s to himself or directed towards him, until the human shrugs. There’s still two of those persons with weaponry and strange glowing devices on either side of them, and it seems his new acquaintance realises the need for explanation.

“Well, technically, you’re not staying as much as… you’re under arrest,” he then says, smile turning hesitant and scratching his cheek.

Arrest?!  

That’s certainly a surprise, given human laws don’t really apply to his own kind. Of course, Avenging has different rules and such… but alas.

It seems his new friend notices his eyes widen, significantly, “But don’t worry, buddy! You’re a special case, of course.”

Thor stammers, he always feels a certain embarrassment over himself when this happens, “May I- may I ask for what offense? I don’t mean to offend, these quarters are quite splendid, but Midgard and Asgard operate different-”

“Oh no,” the man interrupts, keeping a quick pace, “I’m afraid this isn’t Midgard, big guy. The TVA, we, well, control all of time!”

The guards escorting them, they must be guards, stop at the same time Thor stops in pure shock. His father never mentioned anything like this. Is this part of the nine realms? He wonders who these people are, if not human. They surely cannot be gods?

“You control… time?”

“Exactamundo! The sacred timeline, to be precise. Let me show you,” his new acquaintance guides him further with that, until they reach a strangely void room, a single table, pair of chairs and some sort of machine the only things in sight. One of those Midgardian ‘computers’?

And when he’s seated (the chair isn’t quite built for a god of his stature, but he shouldn’t complain, politeness is key, of course), this strange man shows him what appears to be a video. A video of… his life. Thor’s life, that is.

This is absurd. “How do you know this? What-”

“We know everything, buddy,” the man tells him, shuts down the device, grin sheepish, “It’s in the job description, you see?”

Thor doesn’t know what to think, rather, his mind feels somehow numb.

He was just with Loki, she was there, within his grasp, then… this. Thor also doesn’t know how long he sits staring at his acquaintance in confusion until another thought dawns upon him, “Do you have Steve Rogers, too?”

The grin lessens, mouth forming a small o, but the man nods once, “Ah, yes, another department. You two sure know how to cause trouble, huh?”

So he gets an answer, but it leaves him none the wiser, or clearer headed, or understanding. It rather feels like those sort of outlandish dreams children have, like he had when he was younger.

But what can he do? Just face this head-on?

Thor wonders if Heimdall can see him right now. Not… his Heimdall, another Heimdall, who might be alive. A Loki who might be alive, if he can save them.

“May I ask one more question of you, uh…”

“Mobius M. Mobius, at your service.”

“Ah,” he replies, and hesitantly smiles back at the grin he receives, “Then why am I here? This  department , I mean?”

The stranger, Mobius, chuckles. It’s short handed and with the professionalism of those Midgardian businessmen with replicated suits and briefcases and phones chiming them down. Is this Mobius even human? More Asgardian?

“We’re in need of assistance, you might say,” he finally answers, and turns to power up the machinery once more, “And I, for one, have a feeling you might be invaluable for the cause.”

*

Although Thor is not sure he yet understands everything in this strange world he’s now come into, this new friend, Mobius, is very educational, and while the thought of being arrested wasn’t all too pleasing, apparently, they wished for him to work for them, instead.

His offence, that’s yet another thing he still doesn’t understand. Thor wasn’t aware of this, uh, this  Sacred Timeline , as they call it. Surely a god of his status should’ve been told, shouldn’t he?

He comes to wonder if their father ever knew about this.

Thor is fairly sure about one thing, that Odin wouldn’t possibly have told them, had he had that knowledge. And what about Hela?

But he quickly learns not to think about this too much, and he counts about three Asgardian weeks in the TVA, although he has no idea how time works  here , at all. Mobius always says it’s too complicated to explain, maybe he thinks Thor wouldn’t understand.

Loki always said he was as dumb as a doornail. But she never meant it out of spite, he reasons, surely, they’ve always had that sense of humor between the two of them. He loves Loki very much, even when she lets him down. He only hopes his younger sibling feels the same.

Speaking of Loki, that is another thing Thor learns in this weird world- uh, city? Country? Timeline? The TVA is its own thing entirely.

But what he learns, much like his whole life, is that his destiny will forever and always be tied to Loki, and Loki’s to his. Because his new friends at the TVA hired him to find, and catch, his younger sibling and bring them in for a similar crime to his own.

Although he’s also  killing people in the process, Mobius explains much to Thor’s horror, and he’ll have to make sure Loki’s not hurt when he finds him, and ask him why this bloodshed is necessary. Again.

Of course, there must be a good reason as to why she’s doing it, he had a good reason to mess with the timeline himself, he must say, and Loki is incredibly clever, his younger sibling’s grand scheme must be extraordinary. He just wishes she wouldn’t hurt other people in the process, they’ve been over this, but she was getting better!

As Mobius put it, “You know them better than anyone, pal, I’ve got a hunch you’re the only one who can find out where they’re hiding. Well, besides themselves.”

Yes, Thor was not certain this was a good idea.

He traveled back in time to  save his younger sibling, not cause him even more pain. But Mobius seems somewhat trustworthy, and very polite. He assured him justice would be served fairly, and even a lesser punishment considering the help he himself provides!

Sometimes, Thor has to follow his gut. Loki always hated this trait of his.

This work proves tricky, and tedious, and of course, his sibling is sneaky and manages to escape the TVA time and time again, and if they would just bring Thor with them, surely, he could talk to her. Not apprehend her, but  communicate . Not everyone here trusts him as much as Mobius, though, regrettably.

What is curious about his new friend, and Thor’s spent a few nights now racking his brain about this, is that some of the questions he’s posed about Loki are quite specific.

They must be important for the case, he figures.

Just a week ago, hunched over files and files of timeline lingo and alternate futures that Thor has several conflicting emotions about reading, the grey haired man looked up from his scribbles and met his eye.

“Say, Thor,” he started, scratching his chin and twirling the pen in his hand, “Loki ever tell ya what they fancy for dinner?”

And the god had to blink, shuffling the papers. Did he hear it correctly?

“Dinner?”

“I mean, humans, they have favorite foods, you know? Like, preferences,” he chuckled, “I only assume Asgardians are similar?”

Thor smiles as he does when in situations where he doesn’t understand what’s going on, but simple curiousity never hurt anyone. This person’s strange, stranger than the Avengers, but he loved them all the same. “Of course. Loki’s very fond of goat. Herring, too, and our mother’s apple pie.”

Mobius nodded with a grin, and spoke no more of the subject, until two days later (Thor  thinks  it was two days, as mentioned before, time here confuses him profusely), where his friend inquired him about his younger sibling’s eye color.

They’re blue, clearly.

More muted than Thor’s own, but never grey, although some of these files have wrongly informed otherwise.

Really, this interest Mobius reveals in his younger sibling doesn’t faze him at first, but he’s thinking about it more and more often, as it turns out. And today, when the suited man asks him if Loki might be interested in water sports, it only sends Thor further into the obyss of confusion.

Firstly, he’s not sure what these water sports entail. Second, although he doesn’t doubt Mobius is a reasonable man, what does this have to do with arresting Loki?

“Forgive me,” Thor replies, “What are, uh… water sports?”

“Oh, yes! Sorry, big guy. Ya know, jetskis are quite fun for humans and otherwise. Diving, too. You think Loki would like that sort of thing?”

The god finds himself worrying his lip with little answer to the peculiar question. “Perhaps. They love adventures, you see, that’s a thing we have in common. You think Loki’s hiding somewhere, with, uh… jetskis?”

The grey haired man shrugs. Quite strange.

Then his friend continues as they walk along the hall, past several hunters and seemingly high security offices, “She must like jokes, right?”

“Oh, of course.”

Mobius laughs, “I figured,” and his smile isn’t aimed at Thor, but somewhere into the open air, distant and unexplainably fond, “God of Mischief, pranks in his blood. I’m not too bad myself.”

“Huh?”

When the shorter man opens the door for him, he shrugs again, “Sorry, buddy, this way. I mean, they’re incredibly witty. Don’t need to tell you that, I get it. I heard this joke from a Variant, I think they might like that one. You know it? So once there was-”

And so Mobius continues on, the joke must be brilliant, he’s already wheezing to himself, but now, the god’s pretty sure he understands.

Oh.

Oh.

Thor’s not as stupid as Loki claims, you see. And he has to say, he knows courtship when he sees it.

*

Does Thor understand why his younger sibling- or, a version of her, regardless, is hiding out in historic  apocalypses ? No, there’s not much logic in this, but it’s certainly in no way surprising.

Loki’s got a knack for adventures and danger simultaneously, after all.

But when he realises what Loki’s doing, he simply has to go, even if his moustached friend isn’t sure how to clear it with the TVA, or if it’s breaking the rules, but isn’t this what they assigned the god to do in the first place?

This is his younger sibling. Loki’s alive. And Thor, well, like he’s done all his life, and like Loki’s done all their life, one must always follow the other, at one point or the other. It’s fate, he decides.

And he finds him,  finally , after what feels as hundreds of millions of human years and even longer of their own, in the human city of Pompeii.

Loki isn’t exactly pleased to hear the TVA coming, that much is obvious from his face, but Thor is alone, and it’s only a matter of time before Mobius arrives, so Thor must find a chance to talk to his sibling alone.

And his sibling’s face changes from the expectant grin of a plan to kill the minutemen when they arrive to a gaping mouth in shock. Then realisation. Then frustration.

“Loki!”

And the god of mischief groans, exasperated and loud, the screams of the civilians barely fazing them, “Thor.”

It’s a matter of time, then, because they don’t  have much time before they’ll be sunken into the ground they’re standing on, and like Thor first started out his adventure in the Sacred Timeline, his first thought is to get Loki out of there.

It’s his first priority, to keep her safe. There’ll be no death. Not today. Not again.

His younger sibling has their eyes on the volcano as well, their many differences being so in sync at the strangest of times, and before Thor can even think about it, Loki reaches for his arm and they’re teleported somewhere- and some… when? else entirely.

It’s eerily quiet here, a distant rumble from the sky. Rocks as far as he can see. Darkness, besides bolts of lightning striking into the ocean before them, and blinking lights distantly behind them.

And here Loki is; a Variant like himself, as Mobius called it. Breathing.

“Why is it,” she nearly yells, clutching the strange device in her hand and giving Thor that familiar glare of destruction, “You always find a way, somehow,  anywhere, to ruin my perfect plan, brother? How? How are you here, you damn fool!?”

The insult is as it always is, and Loki looks like his blood might nearly boil over, but Thor just can’t help it. 

He feels the tears in his eyes before they even fall. “Loki.”

“What-”

It’s only a small handful of times in all the centuries they’ve lived that he’s managed to stun his sibling into silence, a loss of words. This is another incident to add to the list.

Thor grips on so tight, he never wants to let go.

He can’t remember the last time they hugged, actually. It might’ve been when they were children.

Loki pats on his back, after a minute or two, and a breath of annoyance and… something else sounds at the same time as his own staggering breathing. His sibling’s never returned his hugs, you see, but she’s doing it now. At least, Thor surely wouldn’t mistake her holding onto him, albeit not as tightly as himself.

They sigh, “What has gotten into you now, you idiot?”

Thor laughs. It’s strained, but it feels  good. That one, that’s a thing he’s missed. Loki will surely think he’s lost his mind, but there’s nothing he’d rather do right now than listen to him call him the crudest things they could think of.

It feels like coming back home.

“You’re alive,” Thor whispers.

Loki huffs. “You’ve fallen for my fake death, huh? You fall for it every time.”

He shakes his head in response, knowing his sibling won’t be able to see it, but ultimately lets go, and just looks at them. He smiles. Weirdly, hesitantly, confusedly, Loki smiles back.

“You’re an idiot,” she tells him again, but it’s softer this time.

“Where have you taken us?” Thor asks instead, and the answer is for once a place he knows of, “This is Midgard, brother, but way after the humans. In about an hour, it’ll be nothing but dust.”

That’s a frightening thought, he decides. He’s already seen Asgard in ruins.

And Thor has to take him somewhere safer, before Mobius arrives. They can’t go back to the TVA without some explanation, Loki deserves that.

His sibling seems severely surprised when he uses his own device, and a protest begins, of course, but Thor finds the right time, in Asgard, and jumps them both to it. Before their mother’s death. They’ll have to steer clear of the past versions of themselves, and their parents, and anyone else, considering Loki was imprisoned, but they’ll be safe.

And easy to spot.

“Now is not a time for a homecoming, Thor,” she tells him, already pulling up the device.

“Loki, no,” he reaches out, and Loki reaches for their knife, classic Loki, “Give me time to explain, before they come.”

He rolls his eyes but doesn’t raise the knife, “You’re not taking me to the TVA, brother.”

Thor blinks. He almost wants to rewind time on that little screen in his hand, to make sure he heard them right, but stranger things have happened. “You know about the TVA?”

“Of course I do, you buffoon. Who do you think I’m running from?”

He bites his tongue. Oh.

Thor has to shrug. Loki sighs again.

“I know, I know, they’ll arrest me for crimes against the  Sacred Timeline  ,” they say, in an overly dramatic voice and throwing around their hands in flourish, “I can’t believe they got you to help them. I can’t believe  you found me.”

It feels quite like the good, old days, as Stark used to say. “I know you, Loki, even if you don’t think I do.”

They both settle into silence, and this is also strange, but the smile he gets in return, less confused and more nostalgic and… safe, it makes it worth it.

Then, the device in Thor’s hand beeps, and he lets his sibling look at it, and he looks all the more annoyed again.

“Guess I’ll have to surrender now, because of you,” she grumbles, for once, not searching for an escape route, “Who’s leading, anyway? B-15?”

Thor pats his shoulder, in what he hopes conveys comfort. “I’m not familiar, unfortunately. This leader is named Mobius.”

His sibling frowns, but shrugs non committedly, “A new face, then.”

It’s not very often Thor sees Loki in this state, confusion, if ever. His younger sibling’s always been one step ahead of them, two, even, himself struggling to keep up. That’s why he’s always had to watch out for them, before… before the Avengers.

“He seems very interested in you,” he chuckles, and when Loki only frowns deeper, he has to explain his ongoing suspicion, “He’s asked me a great many questions about you. I believe he admires you very much. Even more than myself.”

“So he’s a fan,” Loki says - ignoring the last statement of his, of course, but Thor knows she heard it.

“I’d say more than a fan,” he decides to be honest, and Loki’s brows furrow. Thor pats his sibling’s shoulder once more, “He holds, it seems, similar feelings to when I was courting Lady Jane.”

Loki looks like a giant question mark. “I beg your pardon?”

But they’re interrupted, as per usual. The answer Thor wants out doesn’t get out before Mobius steps out of the time portal, and grins at them both. He seems to hold his gaze at his sibling a little bit longer. His demeanor’s calm, as if… recognition. Coming back home.

And Loki stares back at their brother, eyes wide and brows raised, tilting her head, “This is the Mobius who wants to… court me?”

Thor nods. Loki’s mouth turns upwards to a grin, mischief absent from his face. And even if they’ll deny it if Thor mentions it, his younger sibling’s eyes hold a certain warmth when they look back at the stranger. “I see.”

*

Many great strange things have happened in what seems a short amount of time, but Thor’s put out of work at the TVA, and his sibling’s put to work instead, and Mobius tells him they’ll  reset  him.

“Don’t worry, big guy, it doesn’t hurt,” he chuckles, adjusting his tie, “Your friend Steve had the same deal. Wouldn’t call it punishment, but it’s subjective. You did good work, ya know.”

Loki’s sat at Mobius’ now abandoned desk, one hand on a stack of case files, her eyes meeting with Thor’s own. They’re used to goodbyes, as you can tell. And emotions aren’t exactly their strongest suit.

But his sibling nods to him. The smile has no hints of sarcasm, so he counts it as a win. As progress.

Thor doesn’t know if he can stop worrying, after all. He’ll always do it, and what if he, another version of himself, tries to go back in time again?

Loki’s the only family he has left. But at the same time, his younger sibling is right. 

The sun will shine on us again. In another timeline, another universe, he figures. For now, Thor will have to let go, but they’ll always be connected after all. Thor and Loki couldn't be more different, but somehow the same.

“She’ll be safe here?” he asks, because he  has to, “You’re certain?”

Mobius smiles, like he’s heard it a million times before, “I promised you. I keep my promises, Thor.”

Of course. Of course. It’ll be fine. He’ll be fine.

“You ready?” his suited friend then asks, and he hesitantly nods.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

The man nods back, and the device in his hand lights up. The seconds seem excruciatingly long, but he’s got to get back, get moving, even without his younger sibling beside him. It’s a comforting thought, knowing there’s many more of them out there, in other timelines, following each other over and over again, as they’re meant to.

“Thank you, by the way,” Mobius then says, strangely enough, as the beams become stronger and the seconds count down. He winks before holding it out to Thor, a gesture for the reset to be complete, “For bringing them back to me.”

[purplebass]

Blindness and Sight in TLH

Hello everyone!!! As you know, I often like to analyze things which lead to speculations. The irony of this speculation is that it came to me when I was talking to a friend about my “anti-birthday” (your anti-birthday is precisely six months after your birthday). My anti-birthday is on December 13th, which is Saint Lucie’s day, who is also the name of one of our beloved characters in TLH. This theory will not only tackle Lucie’s repercussions after she brought Jesse’s soul back into his body, but also other meanings of the word blind and sight in regards to James and Cordelia and Grace.

The name Lucie means light, and we’ve been told and shown several times how she is bubbly, positive, sunny, and generally has this radiant aura about her and she seems to brighten other people’s lives with her energy. But we are also aware that Lucie is often overlooked despite being so lively, and she has also problems of her own which she didn’t tell anyone of her family. These issues also include finding out that she has a power like her brother James. Her power is tied to the darkness and to death, which is an opposite motif to light and life, which are the superficial traits of our Lucie. 

She can’t just see the ghosts, she can also control the dead, and this power is called mediumship. Lucie is a medium figure, she can come into contact with ghosts, but unlike James and Will, she can do it literally, because she has inherited this skill from her demon grandfather Belial. 

Most of COG and then COI, we’ve seen how Lucie was pictured as the little girl. Not only because of her height. Along with Christopher, Lucie is the youngest character of the group, and at times it almost seems like the others treat her like a child, when she is mature compared to some of the other characters. And they also ignore her (as they also ignore Kit).

Lucie is connected to spirits, hence even her relationship with Jesse, who was himself a spirit, is very spiritual and encompasses that kind of romantic love that transcends time - or, in this case, physicality, since they can barely touch. Lucie then has what we’d call the “sight”, which is the ability to see things other people can’t see. In this case, ghosts. It’s possible she can also see inside their minds, just like she did with Jesse right before she put his soul back into his body. They also say that the eyes are the window of the soul, so when Lucie looked inside Jesse, she also saw his memories from a privileged window.  

I mentioned Saint Lucie, did I? It’s time I explain this theory to you. For those who are not religious nor are Catholic (not only Roman Catholic believe in saints), Saint Lucie is on December 13, which is close to Winter solstice. We know that COI was set in Winter and it was almost Christmas. Weird connection, right? This means that Jesse’s soul was brought back around that time. The Lucie I’m referring to is a specific Saint Lucie, from Syracuse in Italy. She was a martyr of noble origins whose throat was cut by a sword, because she didn’t want to get married to her betrothed and instead gave her wealth to poor people. Another legend narrates that Lucie’s eyes were removed, making her blind. She is, in fact, according to Christianity, the protector of blind people but also authors. All of this to say that it is possible - at least, I’m speculating based on the associations I’m making - that one of the repercussions of Lucie bringing back Jesse’s soul into his body may be blindness or temporary blindness. We also become blind if we stare at a source of light for too long.

I apologize in advance for this theory, but there are signs that may hint to this. The name Lucie is one of them. Like I said, Lucie embeds both light (in her first name but also in her being a shadowhunter, therefore “angelic”) and dark (in her power, but also in her being also part “demon/warlock”). Which means that one of the repercussions for bringing dead = darkness to life = light is a temporary loss of light and sight in herself. This could also not go literal. I mean, Lucie could simply “go dark” and “lose her light” like for example Julian did in TDA, but wouldn’t it be too predictable? The reason why I believe Lucie may suffer the loss of her sight is also because we have other types of blindness in TLH. But wait a second. 

Let me explain first. I said that Lucie and Jesse are a spiritual couple, with a pure and innocent love, which makes them appear very connected to each other that they don’t need the physicality to validate their love. They already trust each other. They know that they love each other, and that’s what matters to them. The quality not the quantity of the time they spend together. So one of their obstacles could be that now that Jesse is alive and in his body and they can finally touch and see each other properly like they’d dreamed (touch in general, I’m not talking about something romantic or sexual here),  it’s Lucie who loses something physical here. Up until the end of Chain of Iron, it was Jesse who lacked physicality because he was a ghost. Now it could be Lucie who lacks her light and can’t even see ghosts, just hear them. Or this will not play out with actual blindness, but we’ll see Lucie in a comatose status or lost in the pit of darkness from where she saved Jesse’s soul, and thanks to the connection Jesse’s last breath may have with James, he could be able to reach out to her and bring her back (just like Cordelia is James’ light and is able to reach out to him when he’s in the shadow realm). So, bottom line, Lucie may become blind (temporary) indirectly because of Jesse and the act she pulled to bring him back. 

I mentioned James and Cordelia because the theme of blindness concerns them too, but in different ways. Where Lucie and Jesse are not blind on their feelings and, on the other hand, embrace them completely when they come, James is under the effect of the gracelet and Cordelia, despite loving James, thinks it’s a one-sided love thus she doesn’t tell him how she feels. By being under the effect of the gracelet, it was like James was blind. He saw Cordelia, felt his longing for her, but there was something blinding in his sight which didn’t let him be honest with the person he loved. We are aware that without the gracelet, James would have already confessed to Cordelia. I looked for the term blind both in Chain of Gold and Chain of Iron, and guess what? In COG, most of the terms blind, blindness, blindly and so on, were referred to James. There is also a specific line that Jem tells James about him being a star who can’t be put out, along with his family, and whoever doesn’t see it is blind. I just love this metaphor of the Herondale family being the light in Jem’s darkness and muteness (which may be another thing pointing to Lucie becoming temporarily blind, although Jem is not mute per se, since he can talk telepathically - but it’s still a traumatic disability). In Greek mythology, Tiresia was a liminal figure like Lucie and they were also blind and could see the underworld.

The cause of James' blindness to his feelings for Cordelia was Grace. 

Little parenthesis on Grace: in COI we find out she was blindfolded when she received her power, which I think it doesn’t just add more material to this analysis, but it also means a few things. She was given a power she didn’t want without her consent, because she was taken there blindfolded, blind. She couldn’t say she didn’t want it, because she had been also manipulated and abused by Tatiana. Grace’s lack of consent doesn’t just connect with her power taking away people’s feelings as well. It also links to Jesse’s body used by Belial without his consent. Jesse was also blindfolded when he woke up after Lucie brought his soul back. Covering the eyes of dead people was a habit that comes from the past. He tears the blindfold away and the first thing he sees is Lucie fainting, her world “blurring at the edges” before everything gets dark. 

When I looked up for the same words in COI, Cordelia was the one linked to blind, blindness et similar. She wasn’t just wondering why she had been so blind about her father’s condition, and about James and his feelings, but also about what Lilith did to her. Cordelia had been deceived, and in her case, blindness is linked to the fact of not noticing the signs that Wayland wasn’t Wayland but Lilith. And Lilith is the mother of all warlocks, and it’s yet another link to James and Lucie’s heritage and being torn between serving the shadowhunters with a sword pledged to a demon. This also plays in Jesse being a shadowhunter but having Belial’s demonic anchor inside of him. 

James and Cordelia’s blindness was played on the feelings’ side. His feelings were obscured by the gracelet and Belial and Tatiana’s wrath, and Cordelia’s heroic feelings were obscured by Lilith’s wrath against James’ grandfather. Their blindness was not literal, and as we saw, their feelings for each other were too strong that they shattered the enchantment on the gracelet. Both of them found out that they had been blind by the end of COI. Grace told James the truth, but Cordelia misinterpreted what she saw (blindness again! Miscommunication, which is also a lack of insight into something). Cordelia, already feeling burdened by Cortana’s corruption, couldn’t help but run away to the alternate reality which was Paris. In COT, Cordelia and James will finally confess their feelings for each other.

Blindness may play out differently for Lucie and Jesse. Since their feelings weren’t blurred by any enchantment, they were able to confess to each other and live their love, albeit for a short period of time. Since Jordelia’s blindness (and subsequent miscommunication, which Blackdale didn’t have because they were the only ones who talked to each other) was metaphorical, spiritual, in opposition, Blackdale’s blindness could be physically debilitating. So like Grace voluntarily provoked James’ metaphorical blindness and masked his real feelings for Cordelia, Jesse could have involuntarily provoked Lucie’s literal blindness. 

I can’t stop thinking about the fact that some of the things that also happened to James could also reflect on Lucie but play out in a different way for her. Like when Grace wants James to run away with her to Gretna Green and get married. James doesn’t want to leave the shadowhunters. Not for Grace, even if he believes he likes her. This could play out for Lucie and Jesse. They might be exiled, or Lucie could decide to leave the shadowhunters and Jesse could follow her, and they become mundanes. 

That’s it! Hope you liked my analysis and speculation. I like to hear your opinion about it, so feel free to write to me in my ask box to talk about it, if you want.

[taeescript]

IV. Script of the Angel (m)

𝔰𝔶𝔫𝔬𝔭𝔰𝔦𝔰 >> This is the story of three very different people. A successful novelist, a blossoming artist and a dedicated cop. They seem to have nothing in common. Yet, they are continually drawn to each other. It is as if their fates have been intertwined. Written. That they must meet.

𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 >> ft. jungkook and jimin primarily.

𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢 >> policeman!jimin, author!jungkook, painter!reader, serialkiller!XXX; a classic game of cat and mouse

𝔴/𝔠 >> 9.1k

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 >> mature themes depicted. due to the explicit nature of the topic (serial killers, murders, violence, sexual content, infidelity etc.) this is rated 18+. to spare storytelling: please consider yourself warned. sexual content present. 

𝔞/𝔫 >> another long chapter. sorry! the oc is as opposite to me as day is to night, but i have always enjoyed writing characters who are different. i feel like i’m being challenged to expand my own writing skills. as always, enjoy (: feedback and comments always appreciated. (i am curious: do you prefer long or short chapters?) 

previous part || masterlist || next part 

The taxi arrives much earlier than any of you anticipate. Jungkook is halfway through telling you about the unfortunate event of being kicked out of his rented room when the annoyed-looking driver quickly shoves you both inside. He asks you where you are headed. You lean forward and give him the address of your house. The driver mutters how the drive is less than five minutes away, but he accepts the job nevertheless. “How about you, Sir?” the driver asks Jungkook. Jungkook is at a loss of words until you intercede. “Same place,” you say. Jungkook gives you a confused look. “You said you don’t have any place to stay tonight so I’m extending an offer. Also, sort of like a thank you for finding and staying with me through this storm.” Your words come out much shyer than you had anticipated. He gives you a slight smile. “Are you sure it’s wise for you to invite a stranger to your house?” You blush. “You’re not really a stranger.” “Ah, I’m not? Well I’m a suspect to a murder case.” “No, you’re not! Jimin was only talking to you as a witness.” “A witness? He seemed a little too hostile for that.” As the conversation had carried on, you didn’t notice how close he became until you turned to come face to face with him. The small smile he always has continues to linger on his lips. You pull back and turn to hide the flush on your face that you know for sure is present. Once the heat seems to have left, you glance at him again. He is still regarding you with curiosity. Extending a hand towards him you say, “$10 per night. I’ll be your landlady and you’re renting a room from me.” He laughs and you can’t help but stare with wonder at how white and straight his teeth are.

...

The Body is a miraculous item of study. Inside, we have these little chemical messengers that act on receptors to tell us: wake! At the same time, they tell us: sleep! Just what are these chemical messengers that run around us like tiny men in a sleep-wake factory? First, when we are getting ready to sleep, Melatonin is produced in the pineal gland to send us a message telling us that it is time to enter slumber. Their levels increase as the level of darkness increases. Once our body is asleep, a surge of multiple hormones play a role. You have growth hormone from the pituitary gland telling (a child in particular) to grow and repair tissue; you have antidiuretic hormone (ADH) increasing so we don’t have to get up and pee in the middle of the night; you have oxytocin that may peak at about five hours of sleep influencing the content of our dreams. You wait nervously outside the bathroom door. You had both returned to your house and you had changed into a comfortable pair of sweats and a sleeveless top. Your hair was tied in a bun on your head; your scalp itching to remind you that it had been a while since you washed your hair. However, you had more pressing matters at hand. You had told Jungkook that he was allowed to use the shower first but after drinking one too many cups of water – your throat was so dry – you now desperately needed to use the washroom. The water is still running and you can slightly feel the heat escaping the warm room through the small crack of the door. It was ajar and the smell of your shampoo wafted out to meet your nose. It made you wonder if your shampoo had always been so sweet and inviting. As you are the only resident of the house, there had never been a need for multiple bathrooms and thus your only solution is to patiently wait outside until your guest is finished.  After what felt like five minutes but in actuality five seconds, you take a small peek into the bathroom. The glass shower door has been fogged up and you can only see a very hazy silhouette of its current occupant. If you were to dash in and release everything in your bladder at a fast enough speed, perhaps Jungkook would never notice that you would be in there. Just as long as you moved fast enough. You wanted to weigh the pros and cons of this decision but your bladder would not let your mind concentrate. Before you could control your body, you rush into the bathroom. Everything but the feeling of pleasure from the release of the buildup of pressure in your pelvis is forgotten. You close your eyes and let out a satisfied sigh. When you are finished, you deftly stand and flush the toilet. You momentarily lean over the toilet, reveling in the new weightlessness of your body, when the realization of the scenario you are in hits you. You had just walked into a man showering in your house. Not only that, you had used the toilet while he was washing up (naked) less than a feet away. If you really didn’t get out of the bathroom now, Jungkook would definitely see you in here. If you really didn’t get out of the bathroom now, Jungkook would think you are a peeping tom. If you really didn’t get out of the bathroom now – It is too late, however. You hear his voice from behind you, “Well, this is a surprise.” You turn as slowly as you can. Jungkook stands with the white towel around his waist. He does not look much different than when you had seen him drenched by the rain, but this time you are able to smell the masculine scent of body wash off of him. The first time in the rain, you had been unable to help yourself and glance at his defined abdominal muscles through his soaked shirt, but this time you choose not to peel your eyes away from the sight. The gulp you takes makes its way slowly down your throat. “I needed to use the toilet really badly,” you somehow managed to squeak. He tucks the end of the towel into the side all the while looking at you with a teasing smirk. You do not need to look in the mirror behind you to know the shade your face has turned. “I’ll be going now,” you murmur and turn to leave the room. “Without washing your hands?” he teases you. As if he now is not regarding you as a full out pervert, he probably thought you as unclean as well. You can’t remember what you say in response to that as you shuffle to the sink. The water is warm when it runs out of the faucet. Your mind is unfocused on the task in front of you as you can only think of ways to escape or talk your way out of this situation. “How are you supposed to wash any the germs away if you scrub like that?” You feel his voice vibrate along your back. You immediately tense up when his arms wrap from behind around you. His hands gently take your slimmer hands into his own and together they move through the lathering actions. He pumps the hand soap and his lips become dangerously close to your cheek when he reaches in front. “Clean between each finger and the side of your palm. People often forget to wash the area around the thumb and most of their less dominant hand,” he continues to lecture you. “Just be still,” the plea to your body and mind only being silently voiced out in desperation. There is no extra cloth to wipe your hands dry and so he uses the towel around his waist instead. Each action he does only made you become ever more anxious and self-conscious. When he seemed satisfied with you, he lets you walk away. You will your legs to maintain its strength as you take the steps needed to exit the small steamy room. You are stopped again when he says, “Are you always so innocent?” There is a part of you that wants to turn to look at him, but another part warns you that if you do, a larger temptation will face you. He strolls to stand before you. His eyes slowly make their way from your toes to the top of your forehead; then his gaze holds you steadily in place. You swallow again under his scrutiny. Taking a step towards you, he slides a finger under the strap of you tank top. The simple action makes you shiver. “Tell me, how long have you been living alone?” Your mind tells you not to answer him. What are you doing anyways? Just an hour ago you were thinking about Baekhyun and now you are being consumed by Jungkook. “How long has it been since you’ve been… touched?” his question comes out barely above a whisper – that is how close he is to you now. “I shouldn’t – ” you words are suffocated by his kiss. His lips mold until they wrap around yours. Your eyes squeeze shut, and you fall into him with such speed that it scares you. You feel both dread and thrill in your stomach. He tastes warm, that is the only thing your mind is capable of detecting. Other than that, your brain can not function and you feel yourself shiver in his embrace. You wonder if he has his eyes closed as well or if he was looking at you. Perhaps if you opened your eyes you would have an answer to your question yet you felt afraid of doing so. He pulls you waist closer to him and the dew on his chest seeps through your thin top. His skin is warm, but the now-cold water causes your nipples to become erect. He can feel them straining through the top, but rather than having his hand rise up to meet it, he slides his hand deeper into your pants. Your body tenses up at the invasion. “Relax,” the single word slurs as they are passed between your lips. The suggestion comes in the form of a command and your body strangely listens. With his hand, he forcefully grips the left cheek of your behind and roughly presses you lower body into his. The simultaneous sensation of pleasure and pain runs through your body. His other free hand brushes the nape of you neck. Your hands act of their own accord, and you find them running through his hair, all the while as he tugs on your lips; all the while that you become wrapped in his embrace. Your fingers become brushed with water, and you draw a wet finger down the middle of his back. It is his moan you hear this time, and the thrill rushes through your body again. For the next few moments, the two of you are captivated with exploring each other’s body. You think that he is about to lift your shirt off when instead his hand slips through the barrier created by your underwear. You freeze again. His lips leave yours and trace a pathway until he stands behind you, and your back is pressed tightly against his torso. All the while, his hand makes a crawling rotation until they rest on you lower abdominal. You place a shaking hand on top of this. You don’t even notice that your fingers have become icy cold. “Trust me,” he whispers into your ear. His voice is so low that you mind barely registers what he has said. You heart rises in speed in proportion to his hand that moves out from beneath yours and continually slides downward.

...

You wake with a beating heart. Your eyes fly open, and they are greeted with the plastic glow-in-the-dark stars you had placed on your ceiling. It had been a dream. Your breathing fights to become regular again, but the more you think about what you had awoken from, the more it loses in its battle. You know it is all a dream, but why was it then that you still feel the pressure on you lower abdominal? With a crack, your mind finally reels out of its stupor and a new burn in your stomach causes you to flush again. The act of sex is not foreign to you. You had given that away to Baekhyun the night you realized you were truly in love with him – the night he had proposed to you. But that had happened a long time ago and since his disappearance, you had never given yourself to another man. The thought had never even passed through you. So why was it that you had these thoughts now? Towards a man that you had only just met? Also, how was it that he could make you do something like this? Your hand slides out from your underwear and the band’s near soundless snap practically hands you its embarrassing reality on a gold platter. You couldn’t even remember the last time you had touched yourself. The concept was always too taboo and awkward for you to embrace. You were also not a person that became aroused by sexual thoughts, yet a simple dream had made you lose control of your body. You wiped your hands on the bedsheets, and turn onto your side in bed so you would no longer feel the pressure of gravity on your already tense body. Jeon Jungkook. You only invited him at the spur of the moment. You had both returned home and wordlessly showered and got into bed. You had offered to make a simple meal but he had kindly rejected telling you that he was too tired. He had also jokingly told you not to worry about breakfast tomorrow as it was the least he could do in return for letting him sleep at your place. Continuing on, you told him that he was allowed to use your bedroom so he would be more comfortable but he had patted your small sofa instead. He always carried a pillow with him and told you he could fall asleep anywhere as long as he had it with him. You squeeze your eyes shut. Why? What was this? Who is this man that has barged into your safe house?

More importantly, what is he doing to you? You curl into a tighter ball and press your thighs closer together.

...

The scent of sweet in combination to savory fills your nose and sends a chill through your body. Your eyes remain closed, still infused with slumber but you bring the blanket closer to you. A small breeze sends another intoxicating spiral towards your nose. It smells like pancakes. Perhaps with a thick layer of maple syrup and a cube of butter. There is also something that reminds you of salt – bacon. Sizzling, warm, crunchy bacon. The distinct aroma of coffee is blended in there as well. Your curiosity gets the better of you and you open your eyes. You yelp. Jungkook nearly tips the coffee cup onto your drawer when the sound suddenly occurs. He looks down and sees your wide eyes staring up at him. He meets them but you quickly shift your pupils. You look… nervous. Seeing the unexpected visitor makes you remember the events of last night. Your palms start to sweat and you only draw the covers closer to your chest while sitting up. The corner of the sheet dips past your shoulder and he catches the flash of smooth skin. “Sorry to wake you,” he scratches his jaw embarrassedly, “I saw you were asleep and I promised breakfast. I thought I’d try to quietly slip in and leave it by your bedside.” You eye the said meal on your drawer and note that your nose had not lied to you. “It’s okay,” you try to say. However, your voice is groggy with sleep and so you clear it once. “It’s okay,” you say clearer this time, “But you really didn’t have to.” “It’s nothing. I’m an early riser anyways.” He makes a motion to leave. “Wait,” you call after him. He turns back to look at you. His gaze is piercing and the strange flush that never failed to make an appearance returns. “I’ll join you outside,” you tell him. Smiling, he nods. “I’ll see you soon, then.”

...

When you had left, Jimin had sat down at his desk feeling extremely dejected. He was supposed to protect you and make sure you never shed another tear. That was his promise to his best friend. Yet here he is, as the cause of your pain once again.

“Sir, the files you had requested.” Yoongi knocks on his door. As the youngest detective on the team, he is often coerced into doing the grunt work. But his tenacious and hard-working attitude gave him rise on Jimin’s list of people he respected. Jimin tilts his head to peer above the top of his cluttered desk. New files had been opened along with the scatter of older yellowing papers. His whiteboard is nearing a grey colour at the amount of times he has written things down and then erased them. Yoongi listens and is about to leave his senior alone but stops at the door. “Sir, if I may, will you allow me to make a comment?” the younger asks solemnly. Jimin turns to regard him. His eyesight blurs and he has to hold onto the corner of the desk to steady himself. Quickly masquerading the moment of weakness, he coughs and stands straight again. “You haven’t left the station in three days. You sleep at the desk and your back is in so much pain you shuffle to get coffee. It smells of Chinese take-out and stale pizza in here with another strange concoction of coffee and sweat.” Jimin raises an eyebrow at him. Yoongi clears his throat but does not waver in telling Jimin his mind. “Go home, Sir. You need some rest. The case will still be here when you return. It’ll also be of benefit when you return with refreshed eyes and mind.” Yoongi stands still all the while looking forward. From the corner of his eyes, he sees Jimin walking towards him. His mouth starts to become dry knowing the harsh words he will hear from the his senior for speaking out of place.

Jimin tiredly places a hand on Yoongi’s shoulder. Yoongi rotates his head in surprise. Sighing, he says, “You’re right. My body is on the verge of breaking down.” He sniffs once. “And I do smell like shit.” 

Yoongi chuckles, both out of nervousness and relief. 

“I’m leaving the team in your hands then,” Jimin grabs his jacket from the coat hanger. 

“Me?” Yoongi says astonished, “What about Lieutenant Namjoon?” 

The laugh draws more strength from Jimin’s lungs than he anticipates. “I haven’t seen that guy for the past three days in the station, and both you and I know I’ve been living here. You’re young, but I like your attitude. The others like you too.” 

Yoongi cannot help but smile at the praise. He salutes as Jimin walks out the door. “I’ll do my absolute best!”

“I expect nothing less,” Jimin calls out and waves.

...

He had fully intended to walk home, but there are so many thoughts in his head he needed fresh air to wash out the stale one in his lungs and to clear out his mind. 

Sitting at the park just a block away from the station, he takes a small bite of the cookie he picked up from the station’s café. It is sickening sweet and he wonders how he had lived on these cookies when he used to pull all-nighters for previous cases. 

“I knew I’d find you here,” a voice interrupts his quiet. 

Jimin looks up and sees Namjoon smiling at him. Namjoon’s hair is swept back and he is sporting a white polo shirt along with khaki pants. His police jacket is slung over his arm and hides his badge within. At a quick glance, Namjoon looks like any normal civilian enjoying the autumn afternoon. 

“I haven’t seen you in a while,” Jimin lazily greets his friend. 

Namjoon takes a seat beside Jimin. In one hand, he holds a brown paper back and this is what he extends towards Jimin. 

Taking a peek inside, Jimin notes a container that has some type of potato salad along with another stacked container with mixed rice. 

“Youngji told me to pass this to you,” Namjoon answers his unasked question, “We thought you could do without any more of the crappy station café food – full of MSG and sugar.” 

The smiling face of Namjoon’s soon-to-be wife enters Jimin’s vision at the mention of her name. The two had recently moved in together and there were days when Jimin felt envious when hearing about Namjoon brag about his fiancée’s skills in the kitchen. 

“Thanks,” Jimin says. 

“I’m not slacking on the job by the way,” Namjoon says.

“You’re not? I don’t recall seeing you in the office for the past couple of days.” 

“I got called into a meeting with the board of directors. They wanted an update on this Angel Killer.” 

“Angel Killer, huh? Quite original.” 

“Not my call on what we name the perps.” 

A lull in the conversation comes to as Jimin caves into the meal set before him. 

“Not a spinach and green bean casserole, I see,” Jimin jokes. 

Namjoon laughs. Starting from a few weeks before, Youngji had gone into a fascination in preparing green foods. The entire floor soon came to understand that Namjoon would be eating the same casserole for his next few meals. 

“I convinced her out of it,” Namjoon says with a grin, “Told her that she already spoils me with all her other cooking.” 

Jimin chuckles along with Namjoon. He digs his fork into the meal before him. The taste of food that did not come from a can is such a welcome sensation to his body he can’t help but sigh.

“Youngji’s a fantastic cook.” 

“One of the best.” 

“Well, here’s to you forever gaining weight.”

Namjoon comically nods and rubs his belly. 

“Well, Y/N’s a pretty good cook too. The pasta looked delicious the other day.”

At the mention of your name, Jimin falls quiet. 

“You know, I understand you better than you think. That look you have, Jimin. I can see that the case isn’t the only reason you’ve been trying to keep yourself busy and inside the station. We all saw Y/N leaving the station the other day.” 

“I guess that also means you all saw how upset I made her.” 

Namjoon takes an inhale followed by a slow exhale. “Stop me if I’m prying too much, but what happened?” 

Jimin takes an even deeper sigh. “She found out that I’m still looking into Baekhyun’s cases after all these years.” 

“Ah,” was Namjoon’s simple response. 

“I mean, I’m not doing anything wrong, am I? The reason I’ve never given up on finding the truth is to find some closure for myself. For her… For the both of us.” 

Jimin means the words he says, but when he hears them from his own mouth, it feels strange. 

“Well… what if closure for you doesn’t have the same definition for her?” 

Namjoon’s comment make Jimin tilt his head in confusion. “What do you mean?” he asks. 

Namjoon stretches out his legs in front of him. The park has quieted down as most of its visitors have returned to work after their lunch break. Only a couple of people still remain, but they are scattered so far around the park that none of their faces could be made out. 

“Closure for Park Jimin means to discover the truth. Closure for Y/N might be simply to accept that her fiancé’s gone. She was in so much pain when he disappeared and it took her forever to even leave the house. Her first steps out were because of you. The reason she has the strength to move on today is because you’ve constantly been by her side. Maybe the reason she’s been able to accept that Baekhyun’s no longer with her is because she sees that you’ve accepted it as well.” 

“She saw the files that indicate that perhaps Baekhyun was murdered.” 

Namjoon’s next sentence becomes lodged in his throat. He closes his mouth then opens it again but only to have it return to its previous state. At last when he finally finds what he wants, he says, “That complicates things, doesn’t it?” 

Jimin closes the food container and returns it back into the bag. In the time they had been talking, he found that he had lost his appetite. His two thumbs press against the sides of his temple and gently massage it in circles. 

Everybody knows how much Jimin cares for you; some even think that the extent of it is due to Jimin’s secret crush on you. But Namjoon knows the reason why. He can’t help but look at his colleague and friend with sadness. An ancient promise that causes anguish to those in its pact. 

Placing a warm hand on Jimin’s back, Namjoon leaves it there for comfort. “Is that what you believe? That Baekhyun is gone because he was murdered?” 

Jimin shakes his head. As if the thoughts in his brain could not get any more complicated, the simple question makes things worse. “I don’t know, Namjoon. I have absolutely no idea. I’ve been working this case for years now, but everything always comes up to a dead end. A part of me wants to believe that Baekhyun simply decided to walk out of his old life to start a new one and he’s alive somewhere out there. Yet another part, the detective part, can’t ignore the knowledge that maybe something bad did happen to him that night. That’s why he never returned.” 

“Did you uncover anything new?” 

“No. Not for that case.” 

Namjoon doesn’t say a word. He can sense something else in Jimin’s tone. He is unable to tell if Jimin says what is on his mind as the conversation is redirected. 

“What did the directors say about Sara Michel’s case? I’m assuming that’s why you went to meet with them.” 

This time it is Namjoon’s turn to furrow his brows. Namjoon had never truly wanted to become Lieutenant. Jimin knew that Namjoon had been offered the position because he first had turned down the offer. Namjoon never expressed any bitterness about it; no, instead he had said he had been thankful. Namjoon had always said how he wanted to become Lieutenant before asking Youngji’s hand in marriage. When they spoke, the only frustration Namjoon ever expressed was the unexpected amount of responsibilities that came with this new position.  

“They want to know if we have any new leads. As they say, if we don’t have anything by 24 hours, the case is as good as gone. If there really isn’t anything then they want us to wrap it up. File it as another unsolved case and focus on the new big project: the whole deal we’ve been working over at with the Narcotics Team.” 

“The drug related gang suicides, right?” 

“Yeah.”

“We can send a couple of guys over.”

“That’s the thing though. The Board doesn’t want a few guys. They want the entire team on board. Agent Hoseok’s barely keeping above the waves with this one. HR is breathing down his neck as apparently, some well-known powerful figure’s gone missing because of this.” 

“Guilty?” 

“Likely, but since he’s clearly an influential guy, the Missing Person’s unit might be dragged into it as well. His lawyers have also been stalking out at the station in case anything does come up. It’s going to set the whole station into turmoil.” 

Politics. Jimin hated it all. If someone was guilty, he believed that they should see the justice they deserved. 

“So what should I say to them?” 

“Huh?” 

“The Board. You’re the one who’s worked the Sara Michel case the most. What should I tell them about our progress so far?” 

Jimin bit the inside of his cheek. Progress… Did he have that? Perhaps, but at the end: speculations. That is what they are. He couldn’t take the chance. “Tell them we may have something. Try and deter them from trashing this case. Be ambiguous.” 

Namjoon waits to see if Jimin would further elaborate but the other doesn’t speak again. 

“Alright,” Namjoon says, “But you will keep me updated on whatever you find, right?” 

Jimin nods. 

Namjoon knows that the conversation is over so he stands. Stretching, he rolls his neck once and then follows it similarly with his shoulders. “I’m going to head back to the station. Go home. Get some rest.” 

“None of you want me at the station, huh? I stink it up too much?” 

This earns him a grin from Namjoon. “You’re the brightest mind we have on the team, Jimin. But right now it’s shutting down right in front of my eyes. Recharge it and return when you’re ready.” 

Jimin nods again and lifts a head to say goodbye. Then, he is left to his own thoughts once again.

...

She runs. Fast.

He looks down at the three words. They are the only things that fill his laptop screen after he hits enter. Writer’s block: something he didn’t quite enjoy. That was why he liked to move around so much when he writes. That, plus the fact that he can see his subject clearly. 

The girl is thin and wiry but the definition of hard deltoid muscles are outlined by the afternoon sun. He enjoys a challenge and she might be one. 

Dane observes her like the hunter might to his prey. He notes down everything - from the pathway she takes to the speed of her jogging. Everything is important. 

What a contrast she would serve compared to pretty Ms. Michel. Now, where should he display her this time?

Everything must be chosen so that it meets perfection. She is a prancing antelope that dances unknowingly for the lion. Man is an animal after all. We all belong in the Wilderness.

His eyes look up from his script and watches as the girl stretches once she reaches the bench. She is bent over to catch her breath and she wipes her forehead with the back of her hand. A small device is wrapped around her arm and she touches it to presumably change the song. Her black and blue leggings contrast with her lighter skin. Once she has rested enough, she jogs a couple of times in place before going forward and then turning the corner out of his sight. 

So pretty and elegant. He wants to wrap his arms around her, and feel her pulse between his fingers. He wants to make her into his next angel. 

Dane is patient. He is willing to wait until the right opportunity. He will see to it. Unwritten.

This is the third time at the park, but each day that he has arrived, she is also there. He did not need to be a rocket scientist to know that this must be her daily route. Soon, he will be able to continue on his story.

...

Jimin could not understand why, but after that day with Namjoon at the park, he found himself returning to it quite often. He would make excuses to grab a coffee, but would then find himself wandering back to the bench. He enjoyed the quietness the small area offered. It allowed him to gather his thoughts in peace before returning to the hectic environment of the station. 

After allocating time spent of sitting silently under the warmth of the sun, Jimin finally stands. The park is much quieter now as the remaining people have also left. He gathers the brown bag with leftovers from the local bistro and starts stretching his legs. From the corner of his eye, he notices that somebody is running. 

There is not enough time for him to get out of her way and she crashes into him the moment she turns the corner. The impact is not great and she merely stumbles back in shock. 

“I’m so sorry,” he bows in apology. 

She is out of breath but she shakes her head and bows as well. “No, it’s my fault! I’m sorry I didn’t see you!” 

He waves it away and they share another awkward laugh before the girl in the black and blue leggings smiles and continues on her route. 

Bending to pick up the brown bag he has dropped on impact, somebody else captures his attention. That person is someone he cannot seem to forget and even this slightest sight of him causes Jimin to scowl. 

He is able to recognize that jacket from anywhere – that grey jacket this man wore the day he walked into the police station. He is currently sitting on a bench nearly halfway across the park. Jimin shouldn’t have been able make out any facial features at his distance, but he swears that the man’s eye follow a runner down the path.  

The other man seems engrossed with something on his laptop. His eyes never seem to leave the screen and Jimin is unable to tell whether Jungkook is typing or whether he is watching some type of video. Regardless of what he is doing, Jimin has already decided that it is not good. 

About to walk up to him, Jimin suddenly stops in the midst. It is not because somebody else has bumped into him or that he is caught up in another thought. 

No. 

It is because he recognizes the second figure that appears from behind the first.

...

The previous writer’s block disappears as fast as it had appeared. His fingers are now flying across the keyboard as he continues to write the perfect plan. In fact, he is so captivated by the growing paragraphs that he does not notice when another figure appears from behind. 

“What are you doing?” your voice startles him. 

He whirls around and snaps his notebook shut. You stand behind with a slightly surprised expression on your face. He is able to tell because your large eyes are wider than usual, and your mouth makes a small “o”. 

Time had flown by so quickly that he had forgotten he was supposed to meet you at 1:00pm. Quickly checking his watch, he sees that the time is 12:50pm. 

“You’re here early,” he notes. Scooting over, he then pats the seat next to him. You timidly follow his instructions and sit down beside him. The scarf you wear loosens as the wind blows and you fix it once. 

“I was just in the area. Do you like croissants? I bypassed a popular bistro on the way here and bought us some.” You hand him the small box. “I know croissants are unexpected from a place like that, but I can promise you – they’re really good!”

Jungkook peeks in the box. Packaged in rows, there is a set of treats in chocolate, strawberry cream cheese and plain. 

“Sets of three,” Jungkook mumbles. 

You look up at him. “Sorry?” 

He gives you a small laugh, yet minute as it is, it still makes your heart tumble. “A set of three. I like working in sets of three,” he tells you. Jungkook opts for the original.

You wait until he takes a bite before a smile breaks across you face. “Good, huh?” 

He nods, crumbs falling onto his laptop. He brushes them away before they can dirty it further.

“What did you want to meet me for?” he asks you. 

From the strangely shaped bag you had brought with you, you take out a wooden stand and a large piece of rolled paper. He watches as you set up you easel and clips the paper to the side. It is blank. 

“I come here often to paint,” you explain as you take out another small bag that is filled with sketching tools, “I think it’s so beautiful here.” You don’t add that you had chosen this place because when Baekhyun first disappeared, this was the closest you could be to Jimin without actually bothering him at the station. 

“So you called me here to watch you paint?” 

“Sketch, actually. Today I’m here to sketch but in a couple of days I should be able to paint.” 

Jungkook leans back in his seat. He sees that a new light has taken over your eyes as you take everything from the park into memory. Your pencil twirls in your fingers. Another small gust of wind blows the scarf away from your neck. 

Over their time together, they had become so used to being in each other’s presence that you no longer shy away from him. There were moments when you would be reminded of the first night he stayed at your house, but believe you are not one to dwell in the past so you quickly forget it. At this moment, he is drawing the collar of your jacket up and fixing your scarf so that it would no longer loosen. 

While he is helping you, you continue to talk, “You know, ever since I saw you, a feeling has been itching at me. I kept thinking that before bumping into you at the station, I had seen you before! Now I know. You were the guy who thought I was a street artist!”

Jungkook’s fingers falter as he sets them back on his lap. He does not move. What was it you had just said?

“I was at the square near my studio that evening. It was particularly nice. I remember a small ensemble playing classical music too. You had been the one to knock over my canvas.” 

No. It was not him. 

“Wait. It wasn’t you. It was the lady you were with!” When you remember, you gasps. 

Jungkook turns when he hears you. There was not supposed to be a single person that could have remembered him with Sara that night. That was never part of the plan. When he turns his focus on you, there is a look of shock and realization. A fire begins to burn in his stomach. 

You hold your hand to your mouth. You can see that Jungkook is staring at you and the guilt eats away inside. You should have seen it coming. He was a handsome, intelligent and skilled man. He had showed up out of nowhere. He was also a stranger to the city. The two of you had met outside the station. Of course he could not be here simply because of work. 

He must have been here with his girlfriend. 

And they had bumped into you that night on their date. 

“Y/N, what is it?” Jungkook asks gently. 

You sets the pencil down on the easel. “That woman you were with… That’s your girlfriend, wasn’t it? Oh my god… if she were to know that you’re staying with me right now. She would probably think that I’m some girl who is trying to steal her boyfriend.” 

Your face only reddens more when Jungkook’s laughter echoes around the park. It lasts for quite a while and you do not know whether you are feeling humiliated or angry at him laughing at you. 

He catches his breath and smiles widely at you. “That wasn’t my girlfriend. She was someone I was meeting for the night.” 

“For a date?”

“No. For work.” 

You do not know why, but you breathe a sigh of relief. “Well, I also remember you liking my painting. Do you remember?” 

He gives you another smile. “Sorry, Y/N. I don’t.” 

Disappointment makes your chest ache. Never good at hiding your emotions, it makes him smile again when he sees the obvious frown. He places a hand over yours. “I’d still love a painting though, if that’s what you’re offering this time.” It is infectious, that is what his smile is. You take you hand away from beneath his and regard the quiet scenic park again. “Do you like this place? Should I paint something for you here?” 

He nods. “I’ll like anything you paint for me, Y/N.” 

You blush at the way he says it so matter-of-factly. Looking up, you scan the surroundings once again before a large shadow rushes towards you and grabs your wrist. 

You are hauled up to your feet roughly.

...

Seeing you so casually walking up to that man made him mad. But it wasn’t that which made him practically race across the park. No, it was the combination of him fixing your scarf, laughing with you and then taking your hand. He cannot allow such a thing to happen. 

“Jimin!” you yelp, the pain cutting through your wrist. It burns and you feel as if somebody had dug a knife into your skin to split your bones. 

Jimin has momentarily forgotten your disorder as he is blinded my rage. How dare Jungkook be sitting beside you like the two of you are friends? This man may be involved in a murder case. He may as well be the only suspect. 

“What are you doing here with him?” Jimin demands. 

You can barely get the words out – that is how tight Jimin is gripping your wrist and hurting you. 

Jungkook is still seated, but upon seeing your face turning bright red and perspiration beading your forehead, he stands. “Detective Park, I believe you are hurting Y/N.” 

His words are a cold splash of water on Jimin. He quickly releases you and you whimper while holding your wrist. He reaches towards you, but you draw back, closer to Jungkook. 

“I’m so sorry,” his apology is gushes, “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” 

You rub your wrist. You know it is not broken, but the pain lingers still. You gingerly rotate it before shaking your head. “I’m fine. You took me by surprise though.” 

Seeing the discomfort in your eyes, Jimin instantly feels guilty. The first time he sees you after the fight and he manages to hurt you again. “What are you doing here?” he asks again. He wants to add “with him” but he did not think it was appropriate. 

“I was meeting Jungkook. I wanted to do some sketches for a painting.”

He hated your causal use of the name. He hated it with such a passion. 

“Detective Park, it’s been a while,” Jungkook extends a hand. 

Jimin clenches his jaw but grabs it and shakes it forcefully. “Mr. Jeon,” he says through his teeth. 

You can detect the hostility between the two men. You knew Jimin didn’t like Jungkook but you couldn’t see his reason why. Jungkook had only ever been nice to you. Really, Jungkook was one of the nicest people you know. 

“Why did you need to meet him to do sketches? I didn’t even know the two of you knew each other,” Jimin begins interrogating. 

You falter. You had been so caught up in the previous few days you had forgotten to tell him your new housemate. Truth be told, the whole situation is so unusual for the two of you because you would talk to each other nearly every day. 

“I’m temporarily living with her,” Jungkook says, unable to resist the temptation. He has already calculated and anticipated the change that would occur over Jimin’s face once he says those words. He knows that it would affect you more, but there is a type of satisfaction in seeing the rage that spreads over Jimin’s face.

It takes everything in his already weak power to hold his emotions in. Heat is already flowing to his face in which he could not control, but he could still stop the explosion of curses from leaving his mouth. 

Your mouth is opened ajar once again. All the worse scenarios are running through your head. 

Jungkook sheepishly rubs his neck. “Oh, this is awkward. I thought you had told him, Y/N. You two seemed so close.” 

Oh yes. It is absolutely delightful in seeing the impact of his words on Detective Park Jimin. 

“I – ” you start, “I didn’t get the chance to yet. Um, well… Jimin…. Jungkook is staying at my place for now. He has no other – ”

“We need to talk,” Jimin interrupts you. 

You open your mouth and close it again. “Okay,” you say timidly. You start to walk towards him. 

“Grab your things with you,” Jimin says sternly. 

You want to refute his words but there is a sort of silent anger you recognize. You send Jungkook an apologetic look before packing away your easel and paper. Jimin waits for you and you quickly whisper, “I’m sorry,” before going away. 

The two walk away like a father leading his disobedient daughter. Jungkook can only watch with amusement at the new turn of events.

...

“You’re living with him? You’re living with him? You’re living with him?!” You hear Jimin repeat the series of questions again. Your finger lightly taps your thigh and you note to yourself: the sixth time. That was the sixth time he asked the same question.

Jimin had thought for a long time on their walk to the station of what he could say. Countless words had been flying through his mind however he just couldn’t seem to find the correct ones to string together. That had led him to only repeat the one fact he is being faced with: You are living with Jungkook. 

You sigh. “Yes, Jimin, I’m living with him.” 

“How could you decide to do that without talking to me about it?” he explodes at last, “You barely know this guy and you invite him into your house? He’s a criminal. He’s a murderer.”

This makes you frown. Your eyebrows crease together and even your pretty face cannot hide the ugliness of your anger. “Park Jimin,” you start sternly with his name, “I don’t think it’s fair for you to make that assumption. I don’t even think you should be making that assumption.” 

“Still, the two of you are living together!”

You sigh again.

Jimin stops in the middle his pacing for a second to collect his thoughts. “Fine. But what makes you think you know him enough to decide whether or not my assumption is fair?” 

“Well, what makes you think you have enough power over me to stop who I’m living with?”

“I have a responsibility for you, Y/N! I don’t want you to get hurt. Jeon Jungkook is dangerous!”

“There you go again! Making another assumption! Why are you even saying this?”

“You know exactly why. It’s because – ”

“If you say that it’s because of your gut feeling I’m going to walk away right now.” 

He pauses. “I just know, alright? I have evidence against him.” 

“Show it to me, then.” 

Presently, the two of you are arguing inside Jimin’s office. The blinds have been drawn, but the glass door is definitely not enough to hide the increasing voices. Jimin rummages through the multitude of papers and files on his desk. His thoughts are once again jumbled. He is unable to think straight at the moment and it makes him forget where he has put the files in the first place. 

“You don’t have it, do you?” you accuse, “You just hate him. I don’t know what your reason is, but that’s mean. Jungkook is a good person. He takes care of me.” 

Your tone is filled with exasperation. You did not enjoy when things did not go your way. Neither did he. That is the reason why the two of you tend to avoid conflicts by not being involved in each other’s personal matters. This time, however, Jimin needs his stance to be known. 

“You’ve known this guy for what, two weeks? What do you mean ‘he takes care of you’? He barely even knows anything about you.” 

You do not bother to correct Jimin that it has in fact been less than that. “He’s taken care of me more than you have alright?” you stab him with the words. Your face flushes the moment they leave your mouth.

Jimin’s next words are so calm, they border on hostility. “More than I have, you say? Please, enlighten me.” 

“He… He supports me. He’s there for me when I need him. He’s… He’s…” With each stutter, you can feel yourself losing this fight. Pride and rage cloud your judgment, and nonetheless, you throw out your last attack, “He doesn’t try to convince me that my fiancée was murdered.” 

His eyes become hard. 

There are tears wavering in you eyes and you tell yourself not to blink such that they would not fall. “You tell me to try and move on after Baekhyun’s disappearance.  You tell me that it’s for my own good; all this pain and guilt and frustration at losing him… You’re just as guilty, Jimin. You’ve never put Baekhyun behind you and now you’re saying something as ludicrous as him being murdered. I won’t accept it.” 

He hates seeing you cry. He hates it so much. He hates it enough to contemplate easing up on your decision to live with this stranger.

No. 

Walking away from you, he digs through his jacket pocket and produces an extra set of keys. He had learned to carry this around with him since knowing you. He never knew when you needed to come by and borrow his house keys. 

“Take this,” he places the keys into you palm and curls your fingers around them, “When you’re done with this tantrum… or whatever this is, come home. I understand that Jeon Jungkook needs a place to live, so rent out your place to him. But I cannot have you staying alone with him. You are to live with me while he is an occupant there.” 

You scoff at him, incredulously. You grip the keys in your hand before slamming them soundly on his desk. 

“I am not a child,” you solemnly say, “You cannot control me like this. I am a free to make my own decisions, and I will do what I want.”

With that, you spin on your heels to exit the office. Your pulse is racing as you turn to face him again. You avoid looking directly at him but stare above past his forehead. You are afraid that if you see his expression, you would falter. 

“I respect your decision to not like Jungkook. But if that’s the case, and as Jungkook is living with me, you are free to never come by my place. We will not welcome a guest who only has the intent of unsound accusation.” 

You end the argument with that and stomps out the door.

...

Jungkook is waiting for you outside the station as you leave. You are so blinded by your emotions you nearly miss him until he grabs your wrist and causes you to yelp. 

Immediately, he retracts his hand. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes. 

You still want to yell at somebody, but Jimin’s injustice towards Jungkook stops you from screaming. You rub you wrist that is still sore from being grabbed previously. Adjusting the strap of your canvas on your back, you continue to walk forward.

“He’s so unfair,” you whisper.

Jungkook catches it. 

“Nobody ever asked him to look out for me. I would have been fine,” you say. 

“He cares for you,” Jungkook says gently. 

You do not want to hear the words. Still, it is not like you can ignore them once they’re heard. 

“He is worried. I am a stranger, and a man. Unfortunately, society has a stigma around single strange men who sneak up to a female to offer his phone while it is pouring rain in the middle of the night.” He tries to make a joke with you. Thankfully, it works as you lightly laugh. 

“Well, still. Jimin is being stubborn. He has prejudices against you; ones that have no basis.” 

“Let me guess. He thinks I’m dangerous. He thinks I might hurt you. With my involvement in his case, he might even think that I’m a suspect.” 

You do not want to answer. 

Jungkook stops you from walking. Your strides have been short but only increasing in speed. He is no longer sure if you even know where they are walking. With one hand still on your shoulder, he says with a soft voice, “He has every right to think so, Y/N. We have only started to get to know each other We both have secrets that we have yet to reveal to each other. Perhaps I am dangerous. Perhaps I may have the intent to hurt you.”

You look into his eyes which steadily hold you own. “But you won’t, right?” 

He smiles at you. “Of course not.” 

“Then that’s all that matters,” you say with resolution, “That’s what a relationship is built on. The slow accumulation of trust towards the other party. I don’t care if you have secrets, Jungkook. If you ever do want to share them, I will listen. But at the end, you don’t have to. I want to know you as you.”

He nods. Now with the rollercoaster of emotions within you coming to an end, you are able to see that the weather is beautiful that day. There is the soft melodious chirping of birds from all around you, and the streets are not busy as people have yet to be off work. A warm patch of heat is on your back as the sun greets you between the clouds.

Jungkook is quiet beside you for a while, until he says out of the blue, “Jimin really loves you.”

You whirl to regard him. “Jimin doesn’t love me. He is only tasked to look after me.”

His eyes soften when he looks at you again. He doesn’t follow up with anything, only turning his head back forward.

The speed of your heart’s beating rises slightly at his comment. You do not understand the purpose of him saying that. You do not understand what led to him to say such a thing.

“Jungkook,” you call out.

“Mhmm?”

“I still want to paint a picture for you. But I don’t think I can right now.”

“What do you mean?”

You had stopped walking beside him. He notices that and stops as well. When he finally turns to look at why you had stopped, he is greeted with the image of you standing with your wrist in the air. He sighs in concern and takes your wrist gently.

“Alright, let’s get you home,” he says kindly.

...

next part 

[woozisnoots]

i’m not a hero | hansol vernon chwe

° pairing: vernon x reader ° genre: floofity floof fluff ° summary: people ask you, the avid star wars enthusiast, who your favorite character is and to their surprise? it’s not the hero. ° word count: 1276 ° warning: i mention weapon maybe 2 times ° a/n: my installment for @merakiiverse​​ collab - thank you so much for this really fun opportunity!!! check out the masterlist + all the amazing authors below 💓 (and yes this is part of krys and i’s disneyland au as well!)

meraki’s job collab! / seventeen stars to the right!

masterlist!

everyone will tell you how hard it is trying to pay for college, being away from home, living alone, occasionally having to cope with potential loneliness and lack of motivation from time to time

but some college experiences outweigh all those hardships

and for vernon, it’s two things: you and living out his dream job. well, close to his dream job

you and vernon actually went to the same high school and even shared classes together. exchanged a couple of laughs during graduation practice at how both your names were mispronounced at the podium

yet for the entire three / four years that you were there, no words ushered between you two aside from formal greetings and acknowledged nods. after those graduation caps went up in the sky and you disappeared into the crowd, vernon regretted not talking to you at least once.

just when he was about to lose hope and move passed it, the next thing he knew, he saw you again waiting outside his communications class at his university

‘so this must be fate, it has to be… or a sign? whatever the difference is’

vernon’s face completely flushed when you expressed how relieved you were to see him, alas a familiar face in this new foreign place. making small talk before class started. finding out you guys actually shared the same major, hinting that he’ll probably get to see and spend more time with you more often, in and outside of school

what a perfect perfect way to start a friendship!

after exchanging each other numbers, study sessions became regular hangouts and soon after a few months, the awkward air around him diminished and he finally let his nonchalant person shine through

…but that doesn’t mean he still isn’t shy.

“awe so yn still doesn’t know about your obsession with star wars? can’t be their little jedi to save the them from having to write an argumentative speech in five minutes?”

vernon only responded by sending a glare directed towards his roommate and shoved his head into his pillow, yelping out his internal screams

and for his information, he wasn’t necessarily the hero of the story 

how was he supposed to tell you that he worked as a storm trooper at disneyland? 

first and far most important, he can’t. that’s against the rules, he would get fired in a heartbeat. that would ruin the entire galaxy edge experience. where’s the magic in that?  

and second, even if he were to tell you, he just broke through the wall and is finally on good terms with you. yes, you guys may be friends right now but he does eventually want to ask you out  

in his head, being a star wars fan doesn’t really give him that cool reputation that he wants you to perceive of him 

and what if you didn’t know what a storm trooper was? now he would just be embarrassed :( 

the one free day that you guys have, he almost regrets wanting to work there in the first place

you: hey! you free this weekend? 

vernon: depends… am i?

you: well make yourself free :p think you can scavenge some money to get a one day ticket to disneyland on saturday? 

vernon: that is more than 100 dollars, do you really think

you: PLEASE IT’LL BE FUN !!!! my best friend and i just got seasonal passes and are ready to abuse it every weekend <3

vernon: ok and your speech?

you: …will be written before then :D 

vernon: …fINE 

vernon: bold of you to assume i already to have a pass. late to the fun train i see

oh gosh, what the hell did he just say yes to? he has work that day! 

thankfully, he only needs to work one shift and that lasts a couple of hours. he can make an excuse for meeting up late - his best being getting into a long phone call with his parents and losing track of time (which you wholeheartedly believe given his known soft spot for his family) 

there’s a possible chance, you won’t even go to his certain place of work anyways. maybe you’ll just go to check it out, go on a few rides and wander off.  

it was late morning bleeding into the afternoon and vernon was all set in costume, ready to march around the side of the park as one of two of kylo ren’s bodyguards 

on a warm, sunny california day like this, was the only time vernon didn’t particularly like having to play a character in a full body costume. he could feel the heat rising up in his helmet and sweat accumulates in places he didn’t know could sweat, uncomfortable wedgies throughout the day

and it suddenly gets a thousand times hotter when he sees you walking towards him, leading your best friend to the outside meet and greet area 

during his time, vernon has seen some pretty surprising guests at disneyland all while keeping his composure and staying in character. but this is the first time he almost lets his mumbling slip past his microphone and nearly dropping his blaster to the ground 

there’s nothing much that vernon can do as he stands in front of the guests, including you. it’s not like you came to see him specifically, everyone’s here to see the kylo ren 

so he decides to play it off the best and only way he knows how 

“approach,” he says to you and your friend as it was their turn, gripping his fake weapon in both hands 

he did not expect you to be so excited for this interaction. up close, vernon notices that you portrayed an opened mouth smile with a certain glimmer in your eyes that he doesn’t get to see off duty 

“have you sworn allegiance to the first order?” his partner to his left continues the conversation 

“if i say yes, does that mean i can get a picture with you guys?” you fiddle to find the your phone in your disney themed backpack and hand it to your friend that seemed rather distracted upon other things 

looking back and forth between the other storm trooper and you, as a cast member, vernon knew exactly what to say

“well that makes things easier for the both of us. proceed.” 

your high pitched squeal finally gets the attention of your friend, taking a few steps back to take the photo

you’re sandwiched in between the two stormtroopers and an awkward kylo ren towering behind you 

vernon promptly holds up his blaster with one hand over his shoulder, making for a more dramatic photo, but what the camera can’t capture is how completely flustered vernon is under his armored attire

he’s never been this close to you before

thank goodness he was playing a character or else you wouldn’t know what to do with him hyperventilating right in front of you 

once the picture is shot and approved yours truly, you continue to have a one on one conversation with kylo ren before having to leave. giving vernon a little while to recover and look around at anywhere and anyone to calm down his heart as you stand just a mere few inches close to him

being considerate of your friend, your time is short and you guys make your way to the exist with slight disappoint shown on your face 

vernon risks watching you leave the vicinity, not paying too much attention to the guests waiting patiently in line

and it’s worth it to see you look back at him one last time, feeling as if you could see right through his façade  

[theotherace]

Fic Recs: Taang

I’ve made two or three rec lists over the past few months, but I thought I’d make a proper, comprehensive one that’s easy to add to in the future. Not all of these are exclusively Taang, but they all feature the ship to some degree. I will only recommend one or two stories per author, but some profiles are definitely worth checking out further. So! Here goes.

Multi-Chapter, Complete

Whisper Into the Sky by damagectrl – Toph has two choices: Go home and get married or have the family fortune and her inheritance given to a stranger. Her problem: She wants to keep her ties to her family, but is quite content traveling with Aang. Her solution: Fight her way through suitors for her freedom. Literally. | General 

The Slow Path by Tazmainian Devil – Eight years after the fall of Ozai, Aang returns to the friends he left behind. | T

A Matter of Honor by Adridere – Almost 4 years after the war. Aang is engaged to Katara and is up to Zuko to teach him the facts of life. Yep, the bees and the birds. Crazy kings, bananas and the ultimate contest for the hand of a reluctant maiden. | M

Roommates by breeeliss – An unlikely tale of two unlikely people being forced to live together under unlikely circumstances.| Modern AU | T

Fall of the White Lotus by Boo-82 – Three years after the war Zuko is living a life of duty while Katara reluctantly travels the world with Aang. So, when General Iroh orders them to find Zuko’s mother and save his Order they seize the opportunity with both hands. It’s the beginning of an adventurous journey of discovery, but as time runs out a rising threat puts their bond to the test. | T

Half Asleep by The Crushinator – Five years after the Hundred-Year War, Fire Lord Zuko is hit with an assassin’s dart, and falls into a coma from which he cannot wake. A week passes, and his prognosis is grim. But Katara could swear she hears him in her dreams… | T

Yaaburnee by aviatordame – Avatars aren't meant to belong – that's as much as Aang can fathom. | M

Getting Lucky by roca-dos – Crazy things happen in college every day. | Modern AU | T 

All Fall Down by DJNS  – Aang copes with a tragic loss and finds renewed hope in an unexpected place. | M | Warning for Major Character Death

The Princess & the Badger-Cat by panaili – In a land never torn apart by the Hundred Year War, the sixteen-year-old Avatar Aang is trying his best to keep the balance between the four nations, including the increasingly antagonistic Fire Nation, which, despite his friendship with the Crown Prince Zuko, refuses to acknowledge him. Elsewhere, Sokka and Katara have been separated on their quest to find their missing father, and Sokka, pursued by the same bandits who kidnapped his sister, finds himself on the balcony of some rich girl’s house in Gaoling. Oh, and a sorcerer has turned him into a badger-cat. It’s just one of those days. | Teen and Up

Reborn by Jakia – Life. Death. Rebirth. This is the cycle that all spirits must abide to, even the Avatar. Aang and Toph face death and the reincarnation cycle. | T

New Girl by tiffaniesblews – After coming home early from a business trip, all Katara wanted to do was surprise her boyfriend, Jet. Imagine her surprise when she got home and Jet was in bed with another woman. Not wanting to live with her ex, and unable to live with her best friend, Suki, Katara takes her brother Sokka's offer to move into his loft with his two roommates. Aang is perky and sweet, the owner of a st. Bernard and a cat, who's often confused about his direction in life. Zuko, on the other hand, is a closed-off bartender, who takes some time opening up to others.The four could not be more different, and yet? They work out perfectly. Even if Katara's feelings for Zuko get a bit more complicated as time goes on. | Modern AU | Mature 

The Ties That Bind series by LdyKirin – An exploration of the ties that bind for good and ill. Toph and Zuko are both shaped by the family they were born to and the family they choose. Lots of found family feels. | T

What Happens In Kyoshi by BlackVelvetBand – Prince Zuko, and the GAang take a vacation on Kyoshi Island. Flirting, fighting, and embarrasment ensue as Sokka takes it upon himself to defend Katara's virtue...in a dress? A short,chaptered fic featuring Zutara, Sokki, and Taang. | T

Under the Night Sky by mycomfortblanket – Aang hears the chattering of teeth during a cold night. Was an AU that I found on tumblr that I made fit into this story. Orginal prompt: "We have to go camping together and share a sleeping bag even though we are complete strangers | General

On The Precipice by JoyDragon – They’re just best friends. Or maybe they’re teetering on the edge of being something more. | General

Oneshots, Complete

Air and Stone by Wolvenfire86 – A few Taang stories munched together. My first submissions. I hope everyone likes them. Please review, it makes me feel special. | K+

Taang Week 2020 series by teabagginses | Teen and Up & Mature

Our Little Secret by IrisPlumeria – Toph and Aang, sat next to one another dressed in their finest under paper lanterns and surrounded by copious amounts of food and friends, cringed at the disgusting noises coming out of Sokka’s nostrils as he blew his nose into Suki’s handkerchief. “I can’t believe two of my best friends are finally married!” Sokka sobbed, earning a supportive pat on the back from Suki, who didn’t flinch at the snot coming out of his nose. “I’m so happy for you guys!” Toph and Aang's family are happy for their nuptials, but will they be able to survive their wedding party without letting slip a big secret?Written for Taang Week 2020 - Tradition. | General 

All Roads Lead To Ba Sing Se by irisbleufic – "I was thinking," [Mai] said, tucking her last remaining dagger into her belt as she strode to meet him, "that it's about time I let Fire Lord Zuko know that I quit." When Kuei smiled at her, she could see the sunshine at which she once cringed."Notice that's six years overdue is better than none at all." "Indeed," said the Earth Queen, and grinned at him. | Teen And Up

Lady Fu’s Fortune Telling by Lady Cleo – Katara and Toph visit the local fortuneteller to get their fortunes told. Added a part two with Zuko and Aang. | T

The Perfect Companion by Morna – Aang seeks comfort outside of the arms of his wife, Katara. Taang, slightly lemony. | T

Box by JoeMerl – Written for Taang Week, one-shot. Toph ticks off Bumi, but Aang is willing to fight his old friend tooth and nail to get her out of trouble. Humor, light romance. | K+

2 am by shmulia – Whoever set off the fire alarm at 2 in the morning is on Katara's shit list. Even if he is hot and shirtless. | Modern AU | K

And its sequel, 11:45 – House parties aren't Katara's thing. Sokka's drunk, Suki's on a mission to set her up, and Toph is... well, Toph. But for every cloud there's a silver lining, and for Katara it comes in the form of a second chance with her neighbour... | Modern AU | T 

Treat by PsychEmpress – She felt the corners of her own lips quirk as he sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. “Consider this my treat,” he said and Toph allowed a smile to break out. OR In which Toph is a stressed architecture student who gets a free cup of coffee from the handsome waiter after she helps his friend. Taang. Mentions of Sukka. | Modern AU | T

Sawaru by metacognitive – This love is simple. Non-Korra compliant. | K+

Newlyweds (and basically everything else) by PandaCookie – Everyone’s a bit hopeless right after they’ve been married. | K+

Rhythms by xcgirl08– For now, though, her child’s heartbeat was hers to contemplate. | K 

Tenderness by Adridere – He wanted to keep her, even though he was not supposed to. He promised her freedom, and she promised him sanity in his own household. She kept her part of the bargain, but he found a way not to keep his. | M

Holy Matrimony by Loopy – After their marriage, Zuko and Katara deal with conflicting religious beliefs, and look to the friends for advice. Between the Zutara and the religious satire, every single person who reads this should feel offended. | General

Blind Maiden’s Grace by Adara_Rose – You can learn a lot of things from a flower… | Not Rated (I’d say General) 

Etched in the Earth by Dance_Elle_Dance – She knows the feel of Aang’s footprints better than her own, and that reality scares her. | Teen and Up

No One Asks About The Scars by voleuse – Write about how you learned to curse in order not to be cursed. | General

When in Rome by dtmars – She wasn’t stupid. She knew what she was doing and what she was getting herself into. They both did. | Modern AU. | Explicit

Like Real People Do by DerAndere – The moon is full and bright when he falls out of bed, awake, asleep, inside a dream, and starts walking, driven by the feeling he does not understand, tugging on him relentlessly, and he is Aang, and he is not, and the world is cold. | General | Full Disclosure: This is my story.

Meet Me Under The Table by avatarfan16 – A story of how Toph and Aang find love, in the most unusual of places. TAANG | K+

Aftermath by Zaram'delar – In any celebration, there's always one or two people with a habit of disappearing. Taang drabbleish series. | T

I Choose Dare by for_darkness_shows_the_stars – An ode to how Aang, under the power of a mighty temptress, was forced to grow a beard. Oh, and the birth of his first child, too, he supposes. | General Audiences

Multi-Chapter, In Progress

Heartbeat by AngelicBee – Avatar Aang's soulmate probably died 100 years before, but he can't help but feel she's closer than he thinks. | Teen and Up

a mighty ocean (or a gentle kiss) by poweradequeen – no, the title doesn’t make sense but i don’t care. i couldn’t think of one so now you’re stuck with a cheesy line from two by sleeping at last.it’s a taang fine arts university au. because i said so. | Teen and Up

Neither is Love a Cage by cali-chan – Love is the freedom of flying accompanied. It is letting be without possessing. PG-13 (possibly M later on), drama/romance/angst, Zuko/Katara + Aang/Toph, post-finale but diverges before LoK canon.

Operation: Zutara (REVAMPED) by dtmars – Everyone could see that those two were in love with each other. Everyone except for them. So Toph takes the initiative and fills in for Cupid to give them a little push, while Aang just tags along for the ride. | Teen and Up

Taang One Shots by stitch1830 – A collection of short stories about Toph and Aang that I've had saved in my notes for a few months. Stories are in the ATLA/LOK universe (not canon compliant), and typically revolve around their relationship and family. | Teen and Up

[amjustagirl]

Chapters: one. ~ two. ~ three. ~ four. ~ five. ~ six. ~ seven.

Wordcount: 2.3k

Summary: Akaashi Keiji catches glimpses of another life in his dreams. He dreams of fields of endless gold, of constellation of stars that light up the night sky. He hears echoes of the birdsong in her laugher, the songs of the gods in the wind. 

(Loosely inspired by ‘Your Name’, aka Kimi No Nawa, featuring Haikyuu’s own pretty Tokyo boy)

Wordcount: 3.5k

Masterlist here

AO3 Link here

Author’s note: This fic is a little different from my usual work, so I’m a little nervous about publishing it. If you do like it, would love if you leave a comment / reblog / anything!

If you’d like to be included in the taglist, do drop me a msg/ask!

‘It’s rare to see young men like you buying flowers for their mother’, the florist comments offhand as she wraps his order of yellow chrysanthemums in paper. 

Akaashi smiles, accustomed to the friendly florist by now. ‘I guess I’ve always had a partiality for flowers’, waving to the florist as he leaves to head to Shibuya to meet Bokuto for Izakaya. He’s running late, but Bokuto doesn't mind, hooting good naturedly at the comedy show playing on the television in the rundown bar. 

‘Agaaaashi, you made it!’ Bokuto rises from his seat to give him a jovial fist bump. 

‘Of course I did’, he responds dryly. ‘Wild horses wouldn’t keep me from my appointment with you’. He spends most of dinner listening to Bokuto’s recent exploits both with the national team and MSBY. Excitement still sparkles in the older man’s eyes as he recounts each and every match he’s played in, and Akaashi idly wonders how it is that Bokuto seems to have managed to pack on even more muscle in the short span of a month, the last time they met up was to see Bokuto off at the airport for the World Cup. 

‘You should have continued playing volleyball in university’, Bokuto crows in between mouthfuls of yakiniku and beer and Akaashi shakes his head at the refrain he’s so used to hearing from his senpai.

‘I wouldn’t be able to maintain my grades if I wanted to take volleyball seriously in university, plus there’s no guarantee I’d even get off the bench’, he answers self-effacingly. 

‘But you have the best tosses, Akaaaaaashi!!’ Bokuto declares, his words slightly slurred, and Akaashi wonders if he should start to inch Bokuto’s beer away from him. After consuming far too much barbecued meat (Bokuto took the liberty of ordering twice of what Akaashi would normally order, waving his protests off by stating grandly that he’ll take care of the bill, he’s the one working after all!), Bokuto slips into a food-drunk stupor, happy to listen to his anecdotes of university life, and he takes the chance to ramble on about his advanced Japanese classical literature course that he finds far more fascinating than his class on modern literature to his best friend. 

They stumble out of the izakaya when the line outside grows far too long to be ignored, Bokuto draping a heavy arm over Akaashi’s shoulder, the red tint on the tips of his ears betraying his slightly tipsy state. As they stand at the traffic light patiently waiting for the light to change from red to green, Bokuto turns to him and grasps his shoulders in his large, warm hands. 

‘I’m really proud to have you as a friend, Akaashi’, Bokuto tells him seriously. ‘And I’m going to prove to you that I can be the best ace so you can be proud of me too’. The molten gold glimmering in Bokuto’s gaze fills him with far more warmth than any alcohol could possibly achieve. 

‘I’m already proud of you, Bokuto-san’, he answers, his earnestness resounding in every word of his short declaration. Bokuto beams at him in response and bounds across the pedestrian walkway in approximately three strides, ignoring Akaashi’s chiding to ‘look before you cross the road, even if you have the right of way!’

Many things may have changed since high school, but some things still stay the same.  

His dreams take a strange turn that night.

He’s back in the Fukurodani gym with his teammates, but it’s not accurate to say he’s with them - rather, he’s watching his past self from afar, seated on the bench, a wrist guard on his right arm. He doesn’t remember ever injuring himself enough to warrant a wrist guard at any point during his high school volleyball career, but it’s probably just another oddity of being in a dream.  

‘I wish your wrist was feeling better, Akaashi. I miss your tosses already’, the pout in Bokuto’s voice pronounced.

‘It’s just for a while - I’ll be right as rain tomorrow!’ he hears himself say cheerfully - but that doesn’t make sense either. No one in their right mind has ever described the way he speaks as cheerful, and the rest of his teammates glance over at him curiously. Then his past self awkwardly tucks his legs under the bench, ankles crossed almost as if he’d like nothing better than to fold himself away with all the cloth vests they use for practice – but that doesn’t make sense either, he doesn’t even know why he’s behaving like some fish out of water. While volleyball doesn’t come naturally to him as it does to someone like Bokuto-san, and there are times he feels like he’s struggling to swim upstream, his fingers still itch to toss a ball up into the sky in a perfect arc even now. 

‘I told you, I don’t get what you insist on waxing lyrical on him being a star you can’t help but follow,’ he hears her voice chime in his consciousness, inexplicable though her presence in this scene may be, he hears himself answer - ‘just be patient and watch’. 

Anahori, their substitute setter tosses the ball up in the air and it’s a good toss, he will give him that, but it’s still not quite as high a toss that Bokuto likes. Bokuto runs right up to the net to leap into the air, back arching to slam the ball to the ground with such force that it’s a commanding full stop punctuating any doubts about his place on the team as its captain and ace. 

‘You see! When he plays well, he's like a supernova, shining with a light so bright it almost blinds my eyes.’

‘Waxing lyrical again, Keiji-kun?’ He can hear her tease him gently. ‘Go on, carry on with your celestial metaphors’.

‘How about a shooting star then’, he replies, amused. ‘If a shooting star shot up from the earth instead of falling from the sky.’ 

‘You sound like you like the guy. Are you sure you don’t?’ She asks. ‘You sure sound like you do.’

What?!

His legs are tangled in his sheets when he thrashes awake, mouth open in a gasp for air. That was a new twist in his collection of dreams, the first time he’s dreamt of something other than that phantom girl’s life in months, but even when the dreamscape doesn’t even feature her, she still manages to invade his dream. 

Worse - his dreams are now edging into territory he hasn’t mapped out in years. His teenage infatuation with Bokuto-san died a natural death after he realised that he’d mistaken his admiration for the ace for romantic feelings. Besides, there was no way Bokuto-san would ever be in love with him, not when he’d chosen to devote the next decade of his life to his sport. So why are his dreams dragging him deeper into a labyrinth of memories that aren’t even his own?

‘Why are you squandering my pocket money in a maid café of all things’ he says, sounding uncharacteristically put out. But then again he would be annoyed if anyone managed to drag him into the pink and white monstrosity his dream has deposited him into.

Bokuto’s happily seated across from him (or rather, his past self), exclaiming ‘ooh - isn’t the ketchup art on this omurice amazing, Akaashi? They managed to capture my hair so well!’, and to his horror his past self nods encouragingly and only laughs when Bokuto whines about not wanting to destroy this ‘piece of art the maids took so much time to create’ by eating the damn omurice. 

‘Don’t be such a killjoy, Keiji-kun’, she giggles. ‘Look at him, he’s having such fun, and besides, your day will reset so your money won’t be wasted anyway!’. 

Bokuto, distracted by the catchy beat of the J-pop song blasting over the speakers, is cajoled by a trio of pretty maids to join them on stage to dance along with them. He pops his hips to the beat of the music, throwing up cheesy hand signals with such gusto that it makes him (yes, present day Keiji) want to smile. 

But his past self evidently hasn’t lightened up yet, because he hears himself say crossly – ‘You do realise this is a waste of time when we could be doing something more useful like homework, especially since  Bokuto-san and I already spend most of our time training?’

‘Oh Keiji-kun, life is too short to be spent worrying like that. Because before you know it, you’ll grow into an old man who doesn’t know how to have any fun’.

‘I have fun’, he says petulantly, a faint sulk in his voice. 

‘Oh really? Then stop worrying and live a little. Maybe you should take a leaf out of your beloved Bokuto-san’s book – look how much fun he’s having!’

Bokuto clearly seems to be having the time of his life because now he’s prancing around the stage playing some silly game with the maids. 

‘I told you, I don’t think of him that way.’

‘And I’ve told you I’ve borrowed your skin for far too long to know when you’re not telling me the whole truth, Keiji-kun’, she sing-songs. ‘You wished for more time with him, didn’t you, so aren’t I doing a good deed by helping you figure out what Bokuto might like to do with you?’

‘Bokuto-san doesn’t have spare time on these things – and you’re just making an excuse to explore cafes in Tokyo at my expense!’ 

‘Two birds, one stone. Don’t be pedantic, Keiji-kun!’ 

The next time he’s back in one of those dreams, he finds his past self dressed in a blue yukata along the Sumida river, tugging Bokuto away from the takoyaki store. He remembers Bokuto dragging him away from the rest of the team on a quest to buy some snacks at the food stalls set up around the park, insisting that his stomach’s growling too loudly to wait until the fireworks display is over ‘come on, even you can hear my stomach at this rate, Akaaashi!!!’ – but that’s where the dream starts to diverge. 

‘If you queue for takoyaki, we’re going to miss the fireworks, and you don’t want to miss that, do you Bokuto-san?’ he says, hand firmly on Bokuto’s yukata sleeve. 

‘That’s right! But shouldn’t we join the rest of the team? They’ve got a spot by the river just over there!’ 

‘We won’t get there in time with this crowd – come on! If we hurry, I know the perfect spot to watch the display’, weaving his way through the crowd to shimmy up the trunk of a tree and settle himself comfortably against a large branch. 

‘Woah – Akaashi! I never knew you could climb trees!’ Bokuto calls, sounding impressed.

‘Well, don’t stand there, come join me!’ 

The tree creaks ominously as the larger boy scales its trunk, branches already heavy with red lanterns groaning in protest as he settles himself in the branch opposite Akaashi. And not a moment too soon, because a collective gasp ripples through the crowd along the river as the night sky explodes into rainbow hued fiery streaks.

‘It’s amazing, Akaashi!’ Bokuto hollers with his face tilted up to the sky. 

‘You’re amazing, Bokuto-san’, he says fondly, reaching over to bump Bokuto’s shoulder with his fist and the older boy beams at him, the sheer delight in his smile brighter than the fireworks in the sky. There is a sea of stars in his eyes, and Akaashi wants to shrivel in shame at the way his younger self looks like he’s mentally planning to pirate a boat to cross the straits to Bokuto’s heart. 

‘There is no way I’m going to do that’ he hears himself say, sounding mildly cross. 

‘Eh – it’s cute. ‘sides, doesn’t he look so happy’ he hears her say, sounding overly chipper. 

‘You could spend your time instead learning how to play so Bokuto-san won’t pout when you sit out of practice and you wouldn’t have to pretend you sprain your wrist every time we swap.’

‘Are you mad? Do you really think they won’t think something’s up when I can’t even do a simple serve?’ 

‘Fine. You have a point’, he answers begrudgingly. 

‘Of course I do. Come on Keiji, live a little. Enjoy your time with the lodestar of your life’.

‘Can you not say things like that?’ he says dryly. 

‘It’s your fault for reading so much Shakespeare to me!’ she replies with a grin in her voice.

He texts Bokuto the minute he wakes up. ‘Bokuto-san, apologies if this seems weird, but do you remember if we ever climbed a tree when we watched fireworks with our team?’ 

Bokuto takes a while to respond, but that’s to be expected, it’s his mornings are usually filled with practice and conditioning. But when he does respond, his text makes Akaashi’s brow curl. ‘Nope, but sounds fun! What’s up Akaashi!!’ 

Akaashi drops his head in his palms. Good to know he’s not losing his grip on reality at least. 

But his sleep for the following weeks continues to be filled with dreams in the same vein. 

He dreams of scenes that have never taken place in real life - him challenging Bokuto-san to ramen eating competition, the older boy winning handily of course, crowing like a child when he slurps the last mouthful of tonkatsu broth - ‘eh Akaashi, eat faster!’, him dragging Bokuto-san to the arcade near school, demolishing middle schoolers in endless games of dance dance revolution (there is no way he is actually able to move like that in real life) and losing far too much money in claw games - ‘Akaashi I really want that toy pleaseeee’ - and even he would admit it’s absolutely adorable if not for the fact that he can’t explain why these dreams keep invading his head like a wildfire that refuses to die. 

‘I honestly don’t understand you’, she says and again, why on earth is she in this set of dreams - she doesn’t belong in them -

‘What exactly do you not understand?’

‘If you like him that much, why aren’t you jumping at the chance to hang out with him? All you do is nag me about how I’m wasting his time, I’m wasting your time, but I don’t understand -  isn’t time meant to be spent on the people you love? Unless you’re confusing love with admiration, because yes, I get that you admire his talent, but you don’t seem to have all that much patience for spending time with him outside of school.’ 

‘I suppose I do like him, but…’

‘Finally you admit it, but I don’t like the sound of that word.’ 

‘It’s nothing’, he finally says, and she huffs in annoyance, clearly wanting him to explain but he stubbornly refuses to say another word. 

His past self is skidding down the hallway with Bokuto hot on his heels yelling ‘Akaaashiii you owe me a Yakisoba bunnnnn’ when he hears an almighty crash behind him. As he spins around, Bokuto’s sprawled on the floor, papers and books scattered around him. The older boy grimaces as he sits up, grabbing at his ankle in pain. 

‘Bokuto-san, are you ok?’ he cries, running back towards the older boy. 

‘I might have twisted my ankle. Argh this is bad - prelims are just next week!’ Bokuto groans, clutching at his ankle desperately. 

‘Don’t worry. You’ll be fine tomorrow, trust me’, his past self says with complete certainty, and flags down a passing student to call for a teacher. 

‘Look what you’ve done now. Are you happy with yourself?’ he hears himself say accusingly. ‘Everything might reset tomorrow, but look - he’s hurt himself today. Is this what you’ve been trying to prove to me?’ 

‘I’m sorry, Keiji’ he hears her say, her voice watery. ‘I didn’t think -’ 

‘Of course you didn’t, you never think about the consequences of your actions, do you?’ he says, glass shards in his words. 

His dream fades to black. He never hears her answer. 

His sleep remains relatively undisturbed for the next fortnight, just in time for his mid-term exams which he aces, even his course on classical Japanese literature. He’s relieved of course, because his final year grades matter most when it comes to recruitment, yet there’s a part of him that’s buried deep between ventricles and pumping flesh that childishly wonders what his dreams are going to show him next.

His wish is answered when he opens his eyes to an ocean of stars, white pinpricks of light against the vast tapestry of the purple night sky. His head is pillowed on tufts of grass and the wind whispers against his feet.

The sight takes his breath away. 

He’s a born and bred city boy, and he knows from experience it’s near impossible to see stars in the city sky amidst light pollution and masquerading satellites.  

‘Is this your way of apologising?’ he asks, his voice wry. 

‘Is it working yet?’ he hears her ask, an uncharacteristically timid note in her voice. He laughs, a fond sound, and he can hear her huff a breath through her mouth. ‘I am sorry though, Keiji. I never meant to hurt him’. 

‘It’s fine, no damage done. Besides, I was thinking about what you said.’

‘Me? About what? I know I’ve said plenty to you so far’, she says curiously. 

‘About Bokuto-san’, he supplies, and she stays silent, waiting for him to go on. The stars twinkle down at him, and if he closes his eyes, he can imagine the galaxy reaching down to lend him its infinite strength. ‘You were right about how…I felt about Bokuto-san. I thought what I felt for him was something more than it really was - now I’m starting to realise I just admire his strength, and I don’t see our paths ever converging, especially if he’s going to chase his dreams of going pro all the way’. 

‘You don’t have to chase someone else’s light when you’re brilliant in your own right’, she says gently. 

‘Thanks’, he answers thickly, as if the word feels a little awkward in his mouth. 

‘So -’ she pipes up, and he can tell she’s trying her best to paper over the sudden lapse of silence. ‘Will you tell me stories about the stars, Keiji?’

He laughs fondly, raising a hand to catch the stardust from the sparkling constellations overhead. ‘I could tell you the story of Andromeda, chained to rocks as a sacrifice to satisfy the cruel demands of the sea monster?’ 

‘Ugh no gory stories, I want a happy ending!’ 

‘It has a happy ending, I promise. Just be patient and listen, okay?’ 

Akaashi wakes up before his past self can finish telling the tale of Persues’ rescue of Andromeda from the jaws of defeat. It’s barely three in the morning, but he knows it’s futile to try to go back to sleep. He wanders to the window, and wonders whether the lone star hanging in the cloudy sky is merely a satellite in disguise. 

Against his better judgment, he dials Bokuto’s number. 

‘What’s up, Akaashi!’ he hears the older man mumble sleepily, sheets rustling. 

‘Was it obvious I had a crush on you in high school?’ he asks plainly. If seeking closure is what he needs to end this slew of dreams, then he’s going to do it, never mind the embarrassment thick in the blood in his veins.

‘Huh?’ 

Akaashi’s pretty sure he can hear Bokuto blink rapidly. ‘A crush on you’, he repeats, and for good measure he adds - ‘sometime in your third year of high school’. 

‘Ehhhh…’ Bokuto’s voice trails off over the phone. ‘You did?’ 

The sigh that trips out of Akaashi’s mouth is worn, weary. ‘I did’, he confirms, embarrassment writhing in his belly. 

‘But you stopped right? Just before I graduated? You started becoming distracted after Spring High and I thought you were just worrying about university entrance exams.’

‘I suppose.’ And Akaashi should really get a grip on himself but his dreams have been doing a number on him so to his horror, he starts to ramble. ’ It’s probably the lack of sleep, but look - this sounds really stupid but I was having a lot of really weird dreams and I don’t understand what’s happening but I’m hoping getting this off my chest helps me get some more sleep and I hope you don’t think I’m completely weird and don’t mind still being my friend -’

‘Woah, ‘kaashi, slow down! You’re overthinking again - what, you think I’m not going to be your friend anymore?’ Bokuto booms, laughing widely. 

‘Uh. I don’t know?’ 

‘Relax! I’m flattered, but I think it’s a good thing we never went out! You were already so stressed dealing with me in high school Washio used to joke about your hair falling out, but I’ve changed! Now I’m just an ordinary ace!’ 

‘Bokuto-san, I don’t think anyone would call you ordinary’, Akaashi interjects, rubbing circles against his temple. 

‘You know what I mean!’ Bokuto laughs, the sound so round and boisterous that it makes Akaashi quirk his lips up in affection. 

‘Yes, Bokuto-san. Anyway, sorry for disturbing your sleep.’ 

‘Anytime, Akaashi!’ They bid each other goodnight, and the relief he feels after the call settles on his chest like a blanket, and he falls back to sleep. 

Taglist: 

@1tooru @kageyamakock @animeflower26 @underrated-fruit-tarts-official