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𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (5)

ten years of being one and the same with jungkook as the country's it couple is the perfect disguise for the reality of a tumultuous relationship hidden behind the scenes.

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: a ㅤㅤㅤ year of a death of a thousand cuts because, no matter what comes your way, saying goodbye is never an option. 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒: idol!jungkook/female idol!reader and fictional versions of various idols 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄. idol au, on-and-off relationship, angst, i swear there's fluff, fake dating, and themes of first love, growing up, struggles with fame, and marriage (ish) 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. portrayal of a toxic couple (implications of emotional abuse and control), both main characters are very flawed, violence, infidelity, foul language, substance use (illegal drugs) 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄. based off of "you're losing me" by taylor swift. this is a fictional portrayal of real-life people that implement some aspects of real-life events. extra warning for violent acts in a relationship (throwing objects at the wall) ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤjoin the taglist here! ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤm.list | previous | next

stop, you're losin' me

i can't find a pulse

my heart won't start anymore

TOP HEADLINE TODAY: new kbs variety show announced - first mc revealed to be s.irens' novaㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ january 2017

the memories of bora bora stuck to you like maple syrup on your hands for years. it was a haunting notion to consider the trip the beginning of the end. you remember the way the golden sand stretched out across the water for what felt like forever, as it shimmered and sparkled under the relentless sun. you could hear jungkook’s laughter echoing in your ears like a melody of a song that looped in your head. the sharpest image of that week glared at you angrily - the first serious fight that you ever got into with your boyfriend.

it was a given that you and jungkook butted heads like any other long-term couple, but you found yourself stomping away to nayoung’s hotel room at the end of the third night with a bundle of clothes in your hands and tear-stained cheeks.

when she swung the door open, her heavy lids indicated that she was about to burst into a complaint about you waking her up. instead, nayoung’s eyes jolted open when they read the expression on your face.

“what happened?” she asked.

you fought a wail, making sure to shove any sort of crying down your throat because god knows you would never stop if you started. nayoung frowned and opened the door wider, gesturing for you to come in.

her room was always messy at the dorms and you weren’t shocked to find her hotel room in a similar state of disarray. however, it beat the way you trashed the room you’d been sharing with jungkook. clothes on the floor, random objects hurled at the wall, and even a lamp abandoned on the floor. the anger you felt was unlike anything you’d ever felt before. you admitted this to nayoung, who looked at you like you had two heads.

“yeah, we fought and i may have knocked some things over. . . “

your temperament was definitely an issue to be discussed, but in your eyes, there were more pressing problems to address. when nayoung made room for you to sit on the left side of the bed, you immediately tucked yourself under the covers and let a few tears stream down your face.

she frowned. “what were you guys fighting about?”

“jungkook thinks that i’m always too focused on work,” you explained, swiping at your face. “he said i don’t make enough time for him.”

at this point, you were four years into debut and permanently stuck in the fast lane. a few major events occurred in your career recently that changed the trajectory of your group’s popularity - the first being the departure of miseul. it was an unfortunate situation, as she requested the termination of her contract to go back to her hometown, where her grandmother was ill. the company then replaced her with a new girl, cara, who you did not get along with. there was no choice in the matter, though, and your group’s first comeback with the new lineup happened earlier that year.

another signficant dynamic change was nayoung’s quick rise to stardom as an actress. she’d starred in a drama that was one of the most popular of all time on mbc and as a result, grew in popularity that arguably surpassed your group. she had endorsements and jobs coming left and right, which was prioritized by your company over the group’s endeavours.

it was a bitter feeling, being overshadowed by both your own group mate and boyfriend, but you instead focused on working harder and taking on every project you could. even with bts’ growing status and schedules, you found yourself making less and less time for jungkook and his argument was that he always did more for the relationship than you did.

“focused on work? we’re literally on vacation.” nayoung sighed, coming into bed with you. “i’m glad you’re here, though, y/n. i feel like i haven’t seen you since we landed.”

agreeing to the bora bora trip was a reluctant decision, as it was originally just supposed to be a composition of your and jungkook’s friends. you only wanted to bring nayoung and sooah, until the latter convinced you to ask cara to tag along, since they didn’t want to leave her out. the trip was intended to be the time for you to bond with jungkook, but you were now put into a position to also bond with your group members, especially since things hadn’t really been the same with the girls since miseul left.

“nayoung, we’re still friends right?” you asked meekly, feeling pathetic even as you said it.

her shoulders dropped and she pulled you into an embrace. “of course we are! why would you say that?”

“ever since we stopped living with each other and since miseul left. . .” you trailed off, tearing away. “i feel like the group sees each other as just coworkers or something.”

you were now twenty years old and experiencing life independently. the same was said for your group mates, as you were all now off doing your own things and only reuniting once or twice a year for a comeback. at some point, you considered these girls sisters. now, those feelings felt miles away. even the bora bora trip felt forced.

“y/n,” nayoung’s tone grew serious. “i’m always going to be here for you.”

this would be the last time that s.irens would spend time together outside of work. sooah and nayoung’s relationship soured over the years to the point where they no longer spoke by 2020 - a result of merely growing up and growing out of childhood friendships. you also began building resentment against nayoung, who would become the country’s it girl in no time and stopped publicly acknowledging that she was in a girl group. you eventually no longer considered her a friend, deciding you did not want her arrogance in your life. miseul only texted you once a year to say happy birthday. this was the breakdown of the only support system you had.

when morning came after staying up until dawn with nayoung, you found yourself sneaking back into your and jungkook’s shared hotel room. you were surprised to see that he was not in bed, but felt a salty breeze stream in from the balcony.

you stepped forward and saw jungkook sitting down, eyes fixed on the aquamarine of the beach ahead. when you opened the door wider to let yourself out, he already knew it was you.

“i’m sorry, bug,” he immediately said, too ashamed to look at you.

you were convinced that it was your hothead that drove the majority of the argument and his apology made your heart sink. you were the one who threw things at the wall and spiralled without looking back. he shot back with his own words, but you knew that you were the one who started it.

without warning, you sat right beside jungkook and wrapped your arms around his back. you put your chin on his shoulder and he physically relaxed, as if he’d been carrying sandbags for days. you whispered an apology against his neck and held back tears.

“you’re right. i’ve been a horrible girlfriend.” you hated how bitter the words tasted. “i’m going to do my best to fix my work-life balance. you try so hard for me.”

TOP HEADLINE TODAY: the 2017 edition of the idol star ahtletic competition now filming in goyang!ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤjanuary 2017

you never felt at fault for your hot temper when jungkook’s jealous eye followed you like a lost puppy. it was just as much as a problem as your own shortcomings and it always felt like a battle of who’s more in the wrong between you two.

everyone looked forward to each year’s edition of the idol star athletic championsips, a kind break amidst the hustle and bustle of a regular schedule. some of the more active idols took the games quite seriously, but for you and the rest of s.irens, it was several days of filming that were ultimately far more chill than any of your regular promotional activities. coming off the bora bora trip, a little relay race was next to nothing in terms of effort.

your group’s event was the last of the day, which left you and nayoung wandering around the goyang gymnasium for the meantime. you were texting jungkook to see if he was also free, when nayoung was called over by some individuals.

it was in a tent area away from the view of the spectators and cameras, which you were grateful for at an event where fans watched idols like hawks.

“nayoung! and nova!”

exo’s leader was known in the community to be charming and well-spoken, which didn’t surprise you when you found yourself struck immediately. you’d seen him around and of course watched him on television and online, but you could now see up close just how different the aura of a top boy group was. beside him was his fellow group members and participants for the archery event later that day, who were sehun and chanyeol.

“y/n, this is junmyeon and sehun and chanyeol,” nayoung introduced, beaming. it seemed like her rise in popularity meant that she had begun rubbing elbows with a-list idols like exo.

you mirrored her smile. “nice to meet you all. y/n is fine, just call me that,” you insisted, as the three of you exchanged bows.

unlike your fellow group members, you didn’t find yourself to be much of a social butterfly. you hung out with them and your boyfriend - occasionally your boyfriend’s friends. yet, somehow, others knew you. sehun asked if you were doing archery again this year, which you weren’t. junmyeon complimented your group’s last release. chanyeol mentioned running into miseul at the airport the other day.

as the pleasantries were made, the floor rumbled with the roar of fans across the stands. in the middle of the arena, the rhythmic gymnastics event was set to begin and all eyes were trained on the competition. that is, all eyes except junmyeon’s, whose own eyes remained fixated on you. it was a foreign sensation to feel your heart leap.

“excited for the day ahead?” strained chanyeol, struggling to be heard over the mcs talking.

nayoung replied, “yeah! i think our group has a good shot at the relay event!”

that was false, since you knew sooah was prone to tripping and falling, but you kept that to yourself with a muffled snicker.

“it’s definitely going to be a long day. . .” sehun said, yawning.

nayoung blew some hair out of her face. “at least it’s only one day of filmng this year.”

you enjoyed participating in isac each year, as it was mostly fun and games, but it was stressful knowing that cameras were constantly on you. each day of filming felt like the equivalent of a week when you anticipated random fancams of you on the internet the next day, probably doing mundane things like saying hi to a member of exid.

junmyeon spoke, “it’s going to be a long day, but there’s a thing happening at kc lounge tonight after filming and a bunch of our team is going to be there. chanyeol reserved a whole section for us - you should come.” it took you a second to realize he was now boldly holding out his phone.

although the words were meant to address both you and nayoung, he was directly facing you and only looked at you when he asked. you were caught off guard, having trouble finding the words to respond. junmyeon’s eyes were soft and his smile was inviting - you weren’t an idiot. you knew when an invitation was beyond friendly. even nayoung was side-eying you, following the inquiry.

“uhm - “

“i’d love to see you there.” it was hard to miss the once over he gave you, as his boys let out a low whistle at his suaveness. you couldn't help but notice the pink tint spreading across your cheeks.

the attention felt nice. you’d never been approached so boldly by a senior idol before. and he was hot. you didn’t know what to say, except that you were lingering in this conversation for way too long than acceptable.

thankfully, the vibration of your own phone interrupted whatever sentence you were to form next. with a glance at the screen, the picture of you and jungkook stared back at you and you were left dumbfounded. why was he calling you in the middle of a live event?

you said, “sorry, i think i’m being called.”

nayoung nudged you, prompting you to turn around and see that jungkook was staring directly at you from a few tents away. his expression was stone-cold and eyes burned in your direction. realizing what it looked like to him with junmyeon basically asking for your number, you groaned.

“you think it’s safe for me to walk over there?” you muttered into nayoung’s ear, ignoring the curious stares of the three exo members in front of you. junmyeon had now slowly retracted his phone away, now also noticing jungkook looking your way.

nayoung looked around. “maybe if you walk behind the tents, up against the wall,” she suggested, not missing jungkook either.

it wasn’t too bad of timing either, since the competition was mid-event and most individuals were preoccupied with that. you wouldn’t have approached him in public otherwise.

junmyeon seemed to understand what was going on and he only offered a small smile. “well, let me know. we’re stuck here all day, anyway,” he chuckled.

you thanked him and excused yourself, following nayoung’s direction to discreetly make your way over to jungkook’s tent.

other than him, a few members of bts lingered around the tent, presumably warming up for their event later on in the day. well, that’s what you thought they were doing before, as they were now looking towards you and jungkook, probably witnessing the same interaction as your boyfriend. jungkook’s arms were folded across his chest when you approached and you were already not in the mood.

“meet me in that hall,” you said as quickly and loudly as you could, not wanting an audience.

you turned around without waiting for an answer and jungkook waited several beats before trailing behind, just in case. the two of you found yourselves in the tunnel leading into the main stadium area, which was thankfully empty.

you were surprised that jungkook’s fuse was triggered, as you two just shared a nice dinner date the night before with no issues. however, the more you thought about it, his jealousy issues were rising recently - from one wrong stare at a party by a monsta x member the other night to being asked out by a music producer that worked with s.irens. each interaction was met with rage.

“are you alright?” you questioned, once you were out of earshot and eyesight from anyone.

“were they being weird to you?” jungkook instantly replied, jaw clenched.

you furrowed your eyebrows. “what? no,” you said. “they were just being friendly - “

“you should stay away from exo, i wouldn’t trust a lot of those guys.”

“isn’t taehyung friends with some of them?” you dryly shot back, but he ignored your sentiment and continued ranting about how male idols weren’t to be trusted.

obviously, you and him both knew what he was actually annoyed about. you stood your ground, as you knew you didn’t do anything wrong. it was a harmless interaction and you didn’t expect the entire idol community to know that you and jungkook were dating - well, actually, you kind of did and it was a little bit weird to get the invite in such a flirtatious way, but you were not going to take part. it was shut down immediately, but here you were.

after another minute of jungkook going on about the interaction, you interrupted him by abruptly placing a kiss on his cheek. he froze.

“stop it. i’m fine. he was just being nice,” you sighed, looking around to make sure nobody was hiding in the shadows. “now, can we go back to our jobs, jungkook?”

though your boyfriend was normally quite relentless about these things, your words did snap him back to the reality in which you were putting your very careers at risk to even have this hushed conversations in the shadows. isac was all fun and games, but you were on the clock with cameras in every corner possible. your slight touch of affection seemed to also help, as jungkook visibly eased when you kissed him on the cheek.

he adjusted his sweatshirt and sighed. “alright. i’m sorry.”

and that was the end of that conversation, but another faded memory lost in the chaos of 2017.

TOP HEADLINE TODAY: the 2017 bts live trilogy episode III (final chapter): the wings tour to commence next weekㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤfebruary 2017

the bland eggshell walls of the bighit entertainment headquarters didn’t faze you. at the very beginning, it was unsettling just how hollow the corridors and nooks appeared to be, as if the surroundings belonged in a prison. you’d been in and out of the hallways over the past years, albeit often for very few reasons that were pleasant. though it was a huge maze, you memorized the path on floor seventeen.

upon hearing the loud ding and the metal doors sliding open with ease, you stepped onto the said floor with nothing less than pure anger bubbling in your veins. you clearly made your way up here — through traffic and past the security at the front desk who always mistook you for a crazed fan — with a purpose. you weren’t going to rest until you gave jeon jungkook a piece of your mind. releasing a long sigh, the employees who took a glance up and saw the infuriated expression on your face didn’t even bother stopping you. this had become routine.

the distinct voices of his group members, combined with one of the group’s tracks amplified through speakers and footsteps squeaking on the hardwood floors in immaculate unison, were enough to tell you that he was here.

“jeon jungkook.”

the chorus to ‘spring day’ came to a sudden halt. hoseok was the first person to take notice of you and stopped dancing when you appeared at the doorway. the others noticed fast and when jungkook finally looked up, someone had already stopped the music.

the look shared by his group mates seemed to read that they knew exactly what he was in trouble for. the prompt end of the music seemed to indicate so. a scared expression flashed on jungkook’s face upon reading your own stone-cold one.

last time this happened was when you found a pack of cigarettes in one of your boyfriend’s jackets, after he swore up and down to you that he was quitting nicotine. another time was because of him forgetting that you had a date that night. today, the rage running through your veins was due to something new.

jungkook visibly winced every time you said his full name aloud and here, he nearly shuddered at the sound. his head hung low, like a puppy. he knew what he did wrong this time.

“i’ll be right back,” you heard him mutter to namjoon who could only nod empathetically, arms folded across his chest as he observed the scene.

for jungkook’s sake, the group broke out into forced conversation to distract from the two of you. seokjin pretended to ask hoseok for help with the choreography and taehyung wanted to suddenly show the rest of the group a video on his phone. meanwhile, the youngest of the group wordlessly followed you out into the hallway.

“where were you last night?”

the question was immediate, not even waiting for jungkook to shut the door behind him. he sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

jungkook asked, “did you really have to come all the way here to have this conversation with me?” exasperation laced his words like a bow, but you were unfazed.

“well, clearly i don’t know when and where you’re busy,” you shot back, “so i had no choice but to come here.”

he opened his mouth to speak again, but you cut him off by raising your phone to eye-level. on the screen was the private instagram of cha eunwoo, who posted several slides of content of cheonsa lounge in gangnam. the very first picture was him and jungkook, clutching a shot glass of dark liquor in one hand and a vape in another. upon scanning the screen, where you proceeded to move through the instagram post - one picture of jungkook posing with eunwoo and the bottle girls from the club and the next being jungkook holding a bottle of champagne - silence filled the air.

jungkook’s shoulders drop in defeat. “i’m sorry, it was a last minute thing - “

“how last minute?! i called you at ten last night, asking if we could have a movie night in,” you cut him off, “and you said you were feeling sick! you don’t look so sick in these photos, huh?”

“i was feeling sick, i swear!” he exclaimed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “the boys called me an hour after that and guilt-tripped me into coming - “

“oh, please.”

jungkook huffed. “i’m telling the truth!””

if you were being honest with yourself, it wasn’t a far-fetched idea that jungkook’s boys did, in fact, drag him out to the club the night before. regardless of that, you were more upset with the fact that he declined you, but said yes to his friends.

“is a night in with me too boring for you now?” you questioned, jaw clenched. “if you were going out, you could have at least asked me to come!”

“you don’t have to come out every time with me, y/n, i need time with my friends,” he replied and sighed once more.

this made you even more mad. “when did i say you can’t have time with your friends?!” you didn’t like the fact that jungkook was making you out to be such a control freak.

jungkook groaned. “i didn’t say that!”

nothing had been the same since the bora bora trip earlier that year. sure, you and jungkook fought like any other couple, but it was never this bad and this frequent. it was as if the fight in the hotel was the first domino to a cascade of falls. coupled with your increasingly exhausting schedules and other factors affecting your relationship, such as your career-driven mindset that was prioritized over everything and bts’ rise to international fame, it was only natural that you and jungkook would only drift farther apart.

yet, neither of you were ready to walk away. as you and jungkook continued your back and forth for several more minutes to come in the darkened hallway of bighit entertainment, you could hear the opening notes to spring day once more - his fellow members presumably giving up on waiting for him to return before resuming practice.

i miss you, was the opening line to spring day and it physically hurt your heart to listen to, as jungkook stood just a few feet away from you and still seemed so far away. the two of you gave each other the silent treatment for the next week after.

TOP HEADLINE TODAY: s.irens fans grow restless as the group's comeback is pushed once again, allegedly to accomodate main dancer go nayoung's filming schedule for mbc's 'far away' dramaㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ september 2017

for once, you and jungkook were not getting hazy heads amidst the lights of a nightclub or a packed party, but a charity ball. held at the spacious estate of a member of the family behind hyundai, it was a sight to behold and made jungkook forget that he was in the middle of seoul. he found himself in the back gardens, underneath a marble gazebo that overlooked the lush flowers and twinkling lights of the area. they shone like stars, string lights that hung all around the gardens, and jungkook wished he could share this sight with you.

things were fuzzy with you, but jungkook held out hope that you would be able to pick up the pieces and fix things soon. after a string of fights the past few months, you had finally reached your wits’ end. it was an imploding, inevitable time bomb that was going to set off sooner rather than later. you and jungkook were beginning to butt heads more than not and one random thursday night, it was d-day.

there weren’t too many places in the city that would be safe for even just a normal stroll with your boyfriend, which was an unfortunate truth that jungkook had to swallow for years on end. more than anything in the world, he wanted to flaunt you to the whole world to show everyone just how lucky he was. he was so in love with you and that was never going to change.

from the moment he met you, he was smitten with your beauty and the nail in the coffin was your addicting personality that he was so naturally in sync with. to have someone so incredibly bewitching as his best friend, all jungkook ever wanted to do was scream to the world that you were his girlfriend.

instead, your date nights since the turn of your early twenties consisted of outings like secluded nature walks, friends’ homes, long drives, and if you were careful, the corner store at night. maybe that was why jungkook loved enjoying the seoul nightlife with you - it was a safe space where you could be with each other and with each other, the most important thing other than pounding music and letting alcohol wash away your worries.

your last date was no different, as jungkook suggested to take a walk along the han river. you had no qualms about the suggestion - though, evaluating the place as a date wasn’t the catalyst to your agreement. you knew that there was a conversation to be had and you could have done in anywhere at that point. it’d been over two weeks since you last saw each other, as missed opportunities sipped from your fingers to sit jungkook down and have a talk about your relationship with him.

jungkook saw you from a mile away - it was hard not to when you were literally wearing one of his hoodies. even though it’d felt like forever since the dna promotions began taking over his life and you were off filming a drama, he could always spot you in a crowded room in just seconds. you were waiting by the water, looking off into the seoul night skyline. a black baseball cap hid most of your face and you were smoking a cigarette - a habit that you eventually picked up from jungkook, despite initially chewing him out for the unhealthy habit. you eventually decided that you were also too overworked to not have a vice.

on the other hand, jungkook had been cold turkey for a whole month. he’d grown disappointed of himself for giving in so often on ruining his health, especially as a singer. a frown tugged at his lips when he approached you, just as you were finishing up.

your eyes always brightened when you saw jungkook, but tonight, you saw something in his own that prevented it. offering a small smile, you walked closer up without a hint of a light in your eyes.

“hi kookie,” you whispered and pulled him into a tight embrace. jungkook always loved your scent - a strong cinnamon and vanilla smell that warmed his heart, even on breezy autumn nights like this one.

his face was in your hair, holding you just as tight, when he realized something. something odd.

jungkook stepped half a foot apart when the hug concluded, examining your features. “there’s something wrong, isn’t there?” he asked, as the anxiety came to settle in after you chose to hug him instead of kiss kim.

your lips pressed into a thin line and he knew. you insisted that you two hold hands during this walk, which he wanted to refuse, but eventually decided to remain quiet about it. hands clasped, you two began to stroll south of the river.

for a bit, you and jungkook bantered about how you stole his hoodie without him even realizing it. then, an uncomfortable silenced emerged, as you both could only listen to the light stream of the han and the passing cars nearby.

it was jungkook that said something first.

you let him speak freely because on any other day, it would be a battle marked by avoidance and stonewalling. jungkook had suddenly come to a stop in the middle of the path, after the silence became too grand for him. he reached his limit, too.

“we should take a break.”

things had been getting weird for a while now between the two of you. you were always fighting and when you weren't fighting, it was when jungkook was overseas, away on the wings tour.

that’s when your heart began racing. “a break? you want to separate?”

“we obviously can’t be together. this isn’t working out. we clash too much and we’re always screaming at each other and we’re risking our jobs and - fuck, i’m sorry.”

the rant was cut short when jungkook, after pacing back and forth as he spiralled with each word, paused in his tracks at the sight of tears streaming abundantly down your cheeks. he stopped and immediately felt the ball of anxiety at the bottom of his stomach transfigure into a heavy dread accentuated by guilt, weighing heavy on the inside. his chest began hurting and apologies fell from his lips, as he took you right back into his arms.

“i love you, i know it’s been hard, but we can’t break up,” you hiccuped in between each short breath, barely audible when your crying face was pressed up against jungkook’s chest. “do-do you really feel that way?”

jungkook rapidly shook his head, not even taking time to think about it. “no, i’m sorry, i didn’t mean it. i’m sorry!” he cooed, rocking you back and forth.

after a moment of just crying from the two of you, you were finally able to catch your breath and rubbed jungkook’s back, hoping it would help him catch his. his breathing eventually slowed back to normal.

“but, i think you’re right. . .” your voice suddenly emerged, barely above a whisper. “i don’t want to lose you. . .but we need space.”

“i’d do anything to save this relationship,” jungkook replied and the statement brought you an unknown feeling, spreading across your mind. “whatever you think is best. i can’t lose my best friend - let’s take some time and come back stronger.”

and that was the agreement. it had been just about a month since it happened and there was no progress since. your and jungkook’s schedules were busier than ever and it was only a coincidence that you both ended up at the same charity ball.

for the first time in a long time, seeing you felt like remnants of a far away memory - shattered glass pieces of your relationship dancing in the air that, if jungkook tried hard enough, could be grasped at and remembered. your hair was now blonde and made longer with extensions, brushing just above your tailbone. you wore a periwinkle evening dress, soft satin mirroring the chandeliers on the high ceilings and fanned out into a flattering mermaid tail shape. jungkook hadn’t seen you with such makeup before, as you wore a cherry red lip and a sharp cateye. you looked different. . .good, but different.

jungkook saw you in the foyer, mingling with some chaebols and looking bored. jungkook noticed that you came with sooah, presumably to represent s.irens or your company as a whole, but neither of you so much as looked at each other. jungkook grew worried that you were slowly isolating yourself from your friends. he was also worried that your bored eyes were instead tired eyes from such a hectic schedule.

there wasn’t any way that jungkook was going to get your attention in that moment, so he instead carried on with his night as normal. he greeted friends, looked for opportunities to network, and helped himself to the fine wine. after an hour, he wandered outside to get some fresh air. then, he looked out at the beauty of the gardens and thought of you, as he strolled down the cobblestone path with a glass of red in one hand.

he wasn’t sure how long he’d been pondering for under the gazebo, until he saw the time of his watch and realized that it was probably time for dinner to be served. jungkook sighed, stepping out of the gazebo to make his way back inside the manor, sneaking one more look at the calming moon and hoping to run into you at the party.

jungkook’s wishes were met sooner than expected, as he spotted you by a tucked away corner, smiling from ear to ear. he was taken aback to see the source of your giggling, being some guy he knew from the korean national football team. one of their best players, actually, as jungkook was quite a fan. he was one of the most popular athletes in the country, it was no surprise that he’d be brushing elbows with other a-listers at this charity ball. jungkook hand clenched into a fist, watching the two of you flirt away from everyone else.

throughout your years together, jungkook was always a bit of a possessive type. in the way you were far from perfect, he also understood his own flaws. i mean there was quite a lot, like anyone else - he was also bad at communicating his feelings, often shutting down, and cared a lot about appearances.

none of that mattered in this moment, as he began walking straight toward you.

in your defense, you genuinely believed that space meant that you were single. had you been the one to make a fuss about breaking up? yes, but. . .well, there was no but. it’d been years since you were able to prance around without the worries of a relationship and although you wanted jungkook back, it was admittedly freeing.

bae sejoon was the striker on the men’s national team and had been eying you since you walked into the estate. the two of you previously crossed paths at a lounge in gangnam a few months ago and now seeing that jungkook was not presently attached to your hip, he made the first move. it was hard to ignore - his coy smirk and athletic build that exuded masculinity. however, your only intentions were to simply ravel in the attention sejoon was willing to give to you.

as soon as you arrived to the event, sooah already left to go greet some of her model friends in the main dining room. she didn’t ask you to join - you’d been drifting apart since the beginning of the year and moving out of the dorns. meanwhile, you planned to politely mingle with other guests, given that you were technically here because of work - despite wanting nothing more but to lay low and keep to yourself.

“well, maybe we should go together. can’t believe you’ve never been to the best cafe in all of seoul.”

instead, you were batting your eyelashes at sejoon, who’d been going on about some french-style cafe that just opened up in the city. you didn’t think he was a particularly interesting guy, but he was cute. a cute distraction.

you said, “that sounds fun.”

except, sejoon didn’t know that you stopped drinking coffee two years ago. he didn’t know that you found little coffee shops pretentious and too hipster-y for your liking. you forced a smile.

jungkook always got you pastries straight from one particular bakery. he remembered your matcha order word for word. he made fun of coffee shops that tried too hard to be different with you. he. . . . he was now right in front of you?

you made it known to jungkook that you loved seeing him in all black. as the first kiss of autumn dawned upon seoul, he donned a long sleeve dress shirt and slacks. tailored and in the consistent shade of all black, the sight lit a fire in your stomach and you found yourself in a haze of how good he looked.

jungkook never hid how attracted he was to you, even after all these years of being together. he scanned your appearance from head to toe, licking his lips. it was as if there wasn’t a whole third person in your presence, as explicit images ran through both of your minds. it’d been so long since you saw each other and the tension in the air was like molasses.

“hi y/n,” jungkook greeted, not even looking sejoon’s way, until the other male cleared his throat. “am i interrupting something?” the glare jungkook sent sejoon was sharper than a blade.

sejoon rolled his eyes, already realizing his defeat. “yes, actually,” he replied.

your eyes remained trained on jungkook until that moment, where you had to physically shake it off.

“jungkook, you know sejoon,” you began reluctantly, noticing jungkook’s hard planted feet.

he only grunted in response, still not caring enough to say anything to sejoon and acknowledge him.

at this point, sejoon was over it. he looked at you and then at jungkook’s menacing figure, arms crossed and glare still fixed. it was as if you watched him calculating his odds during this conversation and decided there was no winning.

sejoon turned to you, a crease in between his eyebrows. “nice chatting with you,” he said and solemnly walked away.

you would have otherwise rolled your eyes at such a dramatic reaction if it weren’t for jungkook standing in front of you. everything about him was so mesmerizing, as the time away truly made the heart grow fonder. the smirk pressed against his lips showed that jungkook knew exactly what kind of effect he still had on you.

“i’ve missed you,” were the words that fell out of your mouth, almost instantly, and you wanted to kick yourself. how pathetic.

jungkook eyed you. “didn’t look like it just now,” he tried to be casual, but the sharpness in his voice was loud.

“still as jealous as ever, huh?”

your initial tactic was to play hard to get - even if you and jungkook had been together for years, it’d been so long since you could just flirt and tease him. it was a spark that’d been missing for quite some time now. a smile played mischievously on your lips.

truthfully, this was what jungkook needed. he was initially despondent upon your agreement to give each other space, sulking for several days until work got too busy to be dwelling on emotions. the time away and seeing you look at another man sparked something in him, too. his lids grew heavy.

he said, “so, this is what space means for you, huh?”

jungkook sounded as angry as he was hungry. it set him off, as his gaze lowered further and further down your body. on any day he would be ticked off, but his feelings of frustrations today instead felt warm and inviting. you froze when he stepped closer towards you, close enough that you could simply speak in secrets.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about,” was all that could come out of your mouth in a heavy breath, too mesmerized to make any further attempts at wit.

he was now just about nose to nose with you, but you couldn’t muster up the strength to meet his eyes.

“you’re nervous.”

“no, i’m not,” you said, edge in your voice.

lying right through your teeth wasn’t the best strategy when jungkook could see past it like glass. you were happy to flirt and dish it out, but being so close to jungkook so suddenly left you at a loss for words. you forgot where you were for a second and when you realized that the two of you were in public, your heart began beating like a butterfly’s wings. despite this, he was bold. he didn’t move an inch, willing to risk it all.

jungkook let out a low chuckle. “you won’t look me in the eye. you’re nervous, baby.”

“what do you want, jungkook?” you asked slowly.

his gaze trailed back to where sejoon walked off to. “what was all that about?” he said.

the answer was glaringly obvious to you, as jungkook innocently brushed a hair from your eyes and you resisted the urge to shudder at his touch. nothing in the world compared to this feeling.

“honestly?” you began, as identical smirks began to form on both of your faces. “nothing. nothing at all.”

that was all that needed to be said. jungkook, without tearing his eyes away from you, wordlessly took his phone out of his pocket and made a call. he licked his lips as he spoke and everything else in the world faded to grey. jungkook was a cascade of the colours of the rainbow, illuminating brighter and brighter like the sun until you were blinded from seeing anything else. he was a kaleidoscope that shone in front of you and you were emerging from a place with no light.

it took you a few moments to realize that jungkook was calling his driver. however, as far as he was concerned, the night wasn’t over - it was just getting started.

jungkook finally stepped away and you somehow felt so cold. “i’m going to leave out of the west wing doors. my car is there. leave out the east wing doors and walk around to meet me.” his directions were precise and somehow not commanding. tone soft and a gentle hand on the small of your back, it was the worst feeling of all.

familiarity. comfort. home.

all you could do was nod, your chest growing louder with excitement. both of your synergies were one and you both knew what idea came to mind. not much else needed to be said and there wasn’t a single part of you that could say no. his knowing smile was haunting.

after parting ways in opposite directions - as if a conversation didn’t even occur - you eventually ended up in the back of a limousine with jungkook.

time moved oddly in between those two moments, as the only thing you could think of was jungkook. it was an addiction no different than chips across a roulette layout or a cup of espresso at the same time everyday.

thankfully, the driver’s partition was already up when jungkook opened the door for you, because he immediately captured your lips before you could even sit down. like second nature, your fingers found themselves in the crown of his hair and his hand held your neck like a trophy. you both stumbled, now sat - at least he was. you were already straddling his lap. he tasted like red wine and you could have indulged for forever.

“mph, that’s what i fucking thought,” he mumbled against your lips and you took his as an opportunity to slide your tongue into his mouth.

his hands began hiking your previously eloquent gown up, enough that he could grip your thighs from underneath. your own hands found the buttons of his shirt, as the limousine began to speed off in what were probably going to be circles until jungkook told the driver to stop.

being in love was a vicious cycle that proved to be endless. this pattern would only continue from here on out. no matter how deep your passions for each other ran and no matter how addicting each others’ touches were, it only grew worse from here. more fights than lasted weeks to only be swept under the rug with a fuck and make up or a bottle of whiskey shared between you both. growing issues that were overlooked because that was your best friend.

your heart was no longer in it - it was trapped. all you could do was forget and forgive. all jungkook could do was beg and shower you with love. the night at the charity ball was one of many roots that eventually grew into deep seated resentment.

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fictionally-driven · 3 months

Text

In Sickness and in Health - Part 1

Pairing: Jiyan x f! reader, Scar x f! reader (Separate) Plot: Some headcanons on how WuWa men would take care of a sick f! reader followed by a small plot on them finding the reader to be ill. trigger warnings: illness, caregiving, nausea, vomiting, unconventional remedies, predefined relationships, mentions of pregnancy (no one is pregnant!) , pet names

AN: Part 2 will be Mortefi and Calcharo, Part 3 will be Aalto and Yuanwu. Inspired by @local-x-reader 's work - Flowers for me?

JIYAN

Headcanons:

Ever since you and Jiyan started dating, his medicinal gourd has become your personalized first-aid kit. Allergies bothering you? He has antihistamines at the ready. Monthly menstrual woes? He stocks up on the best menstrual products and painkillers. Prone to migraines? He never forgets to carry tablets. Jiyan is always prepared to care for you at a moment’s notice.

Jiyan's keen senses pick up on your illness before you even realize it. The slightest change in your behavior or the faintest hint of discomfort doesn't escape his notice. He's there with a gentle hand on your forehead, a soft question about how you're feeling, even before you can put it into words.

Jiyan's cooking skills come in handy when you’re feeling under the weather. If you have stomach problems, he’ll make something light and easy to digest like a soothing broth or plain rice with some gentle herbs. If you’re suffering from cramps, he’ll whip up a meal rich in omega-3 fatty acids, such as a salmon dish or chia seed pudding. For colds, his go-to is a hearty soup filled with anti-inflammatory ingredients like turmeric and ginger. His cooking isn't just delicious; it's a heartfelt remedy tailored to your needs.

The General in him takes a backseat when you're sick, letting the compassionate medic take over. Jiyan becomes incredibly attentive, constantly checking on you, ensuring you're comfortable and have everything you need.

Jiyan is always on top of everything when it comes to taking care of you. He keeps track of your medication schedule, making sure you never miss a dose. He adjusts the room temperature to your comfort, brings you extra blankets, and even stays up late to monitor your condition. If you have a fever, he gently wipes your forehead with a cool cloth, and if you're nauseous, he's there with a basin, ready to hold your hair in place while calming you down with soothing words.

To brighten your day, Jiyan will bring you a bouquet of your favorite flowers. He knows how much you love them, and their presence always brings a smile to your face, no matter how ill you feel.

Returning from your latest mission, you could feel every step weighing heavier than the last. The water you had drunk during the mission had left your throat feeling like sandpaper, and a fever had begun to creep up on you. But this was a busy time for everyone, and you couldn't afford to show any weakness. You pushed through, ignoring the throbbing in your head and the chill settling in your bones.

Jiyan was away in Jinzhou for some official business. You didn’t want to bother him with something as trivial as a cold, so when your Pangu terminal rang, you straightened up and forced a cheerful tone.

"Hey, Jiyan!" you greeted, trying to mask the hoarseness in your voice.

"Hello, love," Jiyan's voice came through, warm and comforting. "How was the mission?"

"Exhausting," you replied, attempting a laugh that came out more like a cough. "But nothing I can't handle. Just really tired, you know?"

Jiyan’s keen senses picked up the strain in your voice. "Are you sure you're just tired? You sound a bit off."

"Yeah, yeah, just tired," you reassured him, forcing a smile even though he couldn’t see it. "I’ll be fine after a bit of rest tonight."

"Alright," he said, though his voice carried a hint of doubt. "Make sure you get plenty of rest. Call me if you need anything, okay?"

"Of course. Talk to you soon, Jiyan."

You ended the call and sighed, leaning against the wall for a moment before pushing yourself off to file your mission report. The sooner you finished, the sooner you could collapse into bed.

You were slower than usual as you prepared the report, almost dozing off in between. What would usually take you an hour, took you three this time. As soon as you filed the report, you pushed yourself off the chair, ready to greet your bed. The sky was littered with scars and you could hear the chatter of the Rangers who were allocated to the night shift. By the time you headed towards your allocated room, your vision was starting to blur with fatigue and fever. You barely registered the figure waiting by your door until you got closer.

"Jiyan!?" you whispered, shocked to see him standing there with a bouquet of flowers in his hand.

Before you could say anything else, Jiyan closed the distance between you and placed his palm against your forehead, his expression shifting to one of deep concern.

"You’re burning up," he said, his voice soft but firm. "Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?"

"I didn’t want to worry you," you mumbled, leaning into his touch. "You have so much going on already."

Jiyan shook his head, slipping an arm around your waist to support you. "You’re my priority too, love. Come on, let's get you inside."

He guided you into your room, helping you sit down on the edge of the bed. Setting the flowers aside, he went straight into medic mode. He placed a cool cloth on your forehead and fetched a glass of water.

"Drink this slowly," he instructed, holding the glass to your lips. "We need to keep you hydrated."

You took small sips, feeling the cool water soothe your parched throat. "Thank you, Jiyan," you murmured.

He smiled gently, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. "You don’t have to thank me. I’m here to take care of you."

Jiyan then moved to unpack his medicinal gourd, pulling out various items. He gave you some fever-reducing medicine and an antihistamine to ease your symptoms.

"Here, take these," he said, handing you the pills. "And I’ve got some soup cooking for you in my quarters. It’s got ginger and turmeric—good for fighting off infections."

You nodded, taking the medicine obediently. As you settled back against the pillows, you couldn’t help but feel grateful for his presence. "How did you get here so fast?"

"I took the fastest route I could," he replied, his eyes softening as he looked at you. "I knew something was wrong when we talked. I couldn’t just stay in Jinzhou knowing you were unwell."

Your heart swelled at his words, and you reached out to take his hand. "You’re amazing, you know that?"

Jiyan chuckled, bringing your hand to his lips for a gentle kiss. "I just care about you. Now, rest while I finish up the soup."

You closed your eyes, feeling the fever slowly begin to abate under his care. The scent of ginger and turmeric soon filled the room, and before long, Jiyan returned with a steaming bowl of soup.

"Here you go," he said, sitting beside you. "Careful, it’s hot."

He fed you spoonful of the warm, nourishing soup, and you could feel the effects of it. "You didn’t have to come all the way here," you said, feeling tears prick at your eyes

"Of course I did," Jiyan replied, his voice softening. "I can’t focus on anything knowing you’re unwell. Never think you're a bother to me," he continued, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart flutter despite your condition. “You mean everything to me," he said softly. "I hate seeing you like this."

"I’ll be okay," you assured him, reaching out to take his hand. "Especially with you here."

He squeezed your hand gently. "I’m not going anywhere," he promised. "I’ll stay right here and take care of you."

As you finished the soup, Jiyan continued to fuss over you, making sure you were comfortable and had everything you needed. He brought the flowers closer, their sweet scent filling the room and lifting your spirits.

"These are beautiful," you said, admiring the bouquet.

"I thought they might cheer you up," he said, a warm smile spreading across his face.

"They do," you said, feeling a surge of affection for him. "You always know how to make me feel better."

"That’s because I love you," he said simply, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

"I love you too, Jiyan," you whispered as you laid down, your eyes feeling heavier by the minute. "Thank you for coming back…" you said, your voice heavy with sleep.

"I’ll always come back for you," he replied. “Every time.” You felt his lips brush against your forehead as you closed your eyes. And with that, you drifted off into a peaceful sleep, knowing that as long as Jiyan was by your side, you’d always be well taken care of.

SCAR

Headcanons:

Despite his chaotic nature, Scar is utterly obsessed with you. If you so much as sneeze, he’s immediately by your side, eyes wide with concern and hands hovering as if unsure where to start.

The first time you fell sick, you didn’t expect Scar to be so devoted. His usual unserious demeanor disappeared, replaced by a palpable worry that made his antics seem like a distant memory. Even with just a simple migraine, he insisted that you see a medic, his anxiety clear in every word and action.

He constantly checks in on you, whether through calls, texts, or physically being there. He needs to know you’re okay, and his concern manifests in frequent, albeit endearing, interruptions to your day.

Scar is relentless in his encouragement for you to rest and take it easy. He’ll do everything in his power to ensure you don’t overexert yourself, including taking on your responsibilities.

Scar refuses to leave your side when you’re sick. He’ll camp out in your room, insisting on being there for anything you might need, and his presence, though sometimes a bit overwhelming, is undeniably comforting.

Scar's methods of care might be unconventional, ranging from brewing bizarre herbal concoctions to attempting ancient rituals he read about somewhere. Despite their eccentricity, his intentions are always pure—he just wants to see you well again.

Once you start feeling better, Scar continues his care with aftercare rituals that are part sweet and part eccentric. He might insist on daily massages or reciting protective chants to ward off any lingering illness.

The night had been restless, your stomach churning uncomfortably from something you ate the previous evening. As dawn broke, waves of nausea swept over you, accompanied by clammy sweats and uncontrollable shivers. By morning, you were pale and weak, unable to keep anything down.

In your dimly lit room, you clutched your stomach, hoping the queasiness would pass. Scar's usual chaotic presence was nowhere to be seen, which almost felt like a relief in your current state of misery. However, just as you began to resign yourself to a day of suffering alone, the door burst open with a bang.

"Guess what, little lamb!" Scar's voice echoed through the room, filled with a strange mix of excitement and triumph. "I managed to trick a few more Rangers into joining our cause! Can you believe it? They fell for the old 'lost patrol' routine like it was their first day out of the academy!"

You winced at the noise, trying to shield yourself from his exuberance. "Scar, not now," you managed to mutter weakly, your voice barely above a whisper.

But as Scar's gaze swept the room, his excitement faded into pure shock. His eyes widened as he took in your pale complexion, your trembling form, and the obvious distress etched on your face.

"What's going on?" he asked, his voice suddenly serious.

You barely had time to mutter a weak reply before another wave of nausea hit. You hurried to the restroom, barely making it to the toilet before retching once more. Scar followed close behind, his usual exuberance replaced by a rare seriousness as he knelt beside you, holding your hair back and rubbing your back soothingly.

"Are you... pregnant?" he blurted out, his concern mixing with his usual lack of filter.

You shot him a dirty look as you shuddered, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. "No," you managed to mumble, leaning back against the cool tiles. "Ate something bad..."

"Little lamb, why didn’t you tell me you were feeling like this?" he asked softly, helping you to sit back against the wall.

"I didn’t want you to see me like this," you admitted, feeling embarrassed and vulnerable.

Scar shook his head, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "You think a little sickness is going to scare me away? Tsk.” He looked almost offended. He got up to leave you in the bathroom, only to return a few moments later.

He fetched a glass of water and a damp cloth, gently wiping your face and neck. "You need to stay hydrated," he said, his voice surprisingly gentle. "And rest. I’ll take care of everything else. Let's get you cleaned up, first, Hm?"

Throughout the day, Scar remained by your side, his usual antics subdued by genuine concern. He fetched cool cloths for your forehead, brought you small sips of water to keep you hydrated, and even attempted to brew some bizarre herbal remedy he claimed would settle your stomach.

"You know, I read about this plant that's supposed to cure everything from heartbreak to the plague," he mused, stirring a pot of leaves and roots that smelled surprisingly pleasant. "I figured it might help."

Despite your skepticism, his efforts were oddly comforting. Scar's presence was a constant, his chatter and eccentric care slowly easing your discomfort. He stayed close, ensuring you didn't feel alone in your misery.

As the day wore on and your symptoms began to subside, Scar insisted on continuing his aftercare rituals—massaging your shoulders to relieve tension, reciting what he called protective chants to ward off any lingering illness, and even preparing a simple broth to tempt your appetite. His care was unconventional—his attempts at chanting ancient healing spells were met with your amused disbelief—but his presence was undeniably comforting. He refused to leave your side, camped out on the floor beside your bed with a makeshift nest of blankets and pillows.

As evening fell and you finally managed to keep down some broth, Scar sat beside you, his usual chaos subdued to a quiet vigilance. He brushed a strand of hair from your face, his gaze soft with a rare tenderness.

"You really had me worried, little lamb," he admitted quietly. "I don’t like seeing you like this."

"I’m sorry," you murmured, feeling guilty for not letting him know sooner.

"Don’t apologize," he said firmly, his hand finding yours. "Just promise me you’ll tell me next time. I’m here for you, no matter what."

Despite his eccentricities and chaotic nature, Scar’s devotion to you was undeniable. His antics might drive you crazy on a daily basis, but in moments like these, you couldn’t imagine anyone else by your side.

"You should get some rest," he said gently, tucking the blankets around you a bit tighter. "I’ll be right here, little lamb."

You reached out to squeeze his hand, the nickname now a term of endearment. "I know," you replied softly. "And I appreciate it, Scar."

He smiled, a genuine expression that softened his rugged features. "Anything for you, even the world, should you ask." he murmured, his thumb brushing over your knuckles.

You closed your eyes, feeling the exhaustion pulling you under, but not before whispering a heartfelt thank you to the man who had barged into your life in the most unexpected and chaotic of ways.

"Goodnight, Scar," you murmured, already drifting off.

"Goodnight, little lamb," he whispered back, bringing your hand, closer to his lips, pressing feather light kisses on each of your finger. Scar stayed true to his word, watching over you with a protective gaze that spoke volumes of his love and unwavering devotion

WuWa Masterlist

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miaoqing · 3 months

Text

svsss fact check/common misconceptions

"quick", i called it, and then it turned 8 pages long. sigh

this is a compilation of my own research (based on the english tl of the novel) and summaries of what @svsss-fanon-exposed has painstakingly examined; for more in-depth explanations/discussions + even more topics, please do check out @svsss-fanon-exposed <3 and of course, let me know if anything here is false, if you want a source for anything, or if there's anything else you'd like me to add!

this got quite long so! cut time!!

SHEN YUAN

death

Novel: not specified.

Donghua: choked on a bun (not food poisoning!)

(iirc the yoghurt/food poisoning thing is the ghost of either an early draft or something mxtx allegedly posted on social media but that never made it to canon. don't quote me on that tho)

terminal illness

Entirely fanon. svsss-fanon-exposed post here

age

He transmigrated at some point between 15 at the absolute youngest and 23 at the absolute oldest; most likely 19-21. (fun fact: if he was younger than 19, LBH is actually technically older than him post-canon)

did Shen Yuan wear glasses?

Never stated in either the novel or donghua but not contradicted either. svsss-fanon-exposed post here

is shen yuan an unreliable narrator?

close enough

LUO BINGHE

early years

Fishermen got Binghe out of the river and gave him his name (Luo as the river, Binghe meaning icy river). He then wandered the streets for a few years, and then he was adopted by the washerwoman. After she died when he was 10, he joined CQM.

hair

Binghe’s hair is not canonically curly </3

scars

The scar on his chest is from when SQQ stabbed him at the edge of the abyss. The one on his hand is from the Jinlan city arc. svsss-fanon-exposed post here

bingge’s harem

Novel: "nearing three digits", “three-digit number”, “innumerable”, “large”, “vast” ....

Donghua: around 3000

Not specified if this is just the wives or if it also includes concubines etc

xin mo

Bingmei is more prone to Xin Mo’s backlash than Bingge, as stated in the bingge/bingmei extra

demon mark

Binghe’s zui yin (not huadian, check entry in “misc.”) can change shape and expand. He can also hide it at will, but it seems to take some effort. svsss-fanon-exposed post here

head disciple

SQQ chooses Binghe as his head disciple, probably to explain why he let him move into the bamboo house. Ming Fan isn’t and never was the head disciple - check the entry “SQQ’s disciples”

Luo Binghe is big and buff and way taller than SQQ

False. Very in-depth svsss-fanon-exposed post about lbh’s appearance here but basically… he’s built like a kpop idol… personally i’m thinking Jeonghan or Haechan but could probably go as far as like… Taemin maybe. He’s also only like 2 cm (1in) taller than SQQ.

SHEN JIU

why did SJ hate LBH???

He was jealous of LBH for getting to join a sect and improve his cultivation at the best age and for having a mother who loved him. That's it lol. He also feared Binghe's power and potential which is why he made sure to sabotage him at every step. (ch 1)

“Envy that Luo Binghe had a mother who was “the kindest in all the world to him,” envy of Luo Binghe’s talent, envy that Luo Binghe would enter Cang Qiong Mountain Sect at the best age for cultivating.” - Ch. 19

qiu haitang called qiu jianluo "a-luo", which is why SJ hated binghe

Entirely fanon; she only ever calls him gege (also the "Luo" is a different character = slightly different pronunciation)

surely SJ wasn't thaaaat mean to LBH??

yeah no he really was just that much of a child abuser :/

fake cultivation manual

ch. 1 vol 1: "The cultivation manual Ming Fan had given Luo Binghe was a fake"

SQQ&YQY extra: “Luo Binghe was using the incorrect cultivation manual that Shen Qingqiu had handed him; he should have long since died bleeding from the seven apertures, his body rupturing down to his bones, skin, meridians, tendons, and flesh.”

ch. 2: "Shen Qingqiu had inspired Ming Fan to give Luo Binghe a fake cultivation manual."

SJ was SAd by QLJ

Not explicitly stated but definitely a possible interpretation

SJ only went to brothels to sleep

Fanon but likely; svsss-fanon-exposed post here

SHEN QINGQIU

SQQ’s disciples

The number is not specified. Only Ming Fan, Binghe, and Ning Yingying are mentioned by name, but there were at least a few more (eg. Ming Fan's lackeys, the disciples waiting by SQQ’s bedside when SY transmigrates, the group he passes by on the peak). Ming Fan is (presumably) the oldest and about 16 at the start of the story, Binghe is around 14 (or 12-13; mentioned in svsss-fanon-exposed post here) Ning Yingying is the youngest (svsss-fanon-exposed post here), so all his disciples are presumably between ~12-16. no new disciples were taken in after Binghe - he's still the newest shidi when SY transmigrates.

NYY might not be the only female disciple on QJP - in the bingge/bingmei extra, SQQ refers to some disciples as “a group of teal-robed boys and girls”, however, the Chinese word used for "boys and girls" here doesn't actually specify gender. NYY is referred to as "Shen Qingqiu's youngest female disciple" but it's hard to tell if it's meant to be interpreted as "youngest of the females" or "youngest and also female, unlike the others".

Ming Fan was never head disciple - he is only ever specified to be the oldest disciple/the first one to become their master’s student. however, if a head disciple isn’t chosen, is it usually the most senior disciple who does their work - which in this case is Ming Fan. svsss-fanon-exposed post here

There might be "outer disciples" on QJP, in which case Ming Fan would be SQQ's earliest disciple, not necessarily the first on the whole peak. However, there is no outright mention of any outer disciples on QJP; the only mention of outer disciples is in regards to An Ding.

SQQ’s eye colour

In the novel his eyes are described as black. however, in many official illustrations they are green, grey, or some other lighter colour.

svsss-fanon-exposed post(s) here

META

how long was pidw?

novel: LONG. Its posting time spanned 3-4 years (SY says 4 years in chapter 1, Airplane says 3 years in the Airplane extra). Airplane allegedly “updated ten thousand words a day, every day, for three years straight” with “periodic burst releases of eight whole chapters”. He had also written other works before PIDW.

PIDW covers 200 years of Binghe's life.

donghua: 6666 chapters

what’s the svsss timeline?

link to ao3 post by VagabondDawn

post examining the pre-canon timeline by svsss-fanon-exposed

CQM

peak lords’ ages

Shen Jiu was about 33 when he died. Yue Qingyuan is roughly three years older than him and Liu Qingge is a few years younger. others are unknown. check the svsss-fanon-exposed post re:the timeline linked above

• CQM's disciple robes are colour coded

canon. svsss-fanon-exposed post here

qing jing - the eng tl says teal but the Chinese character used to describe the color can mean one of several shades of green/blue-green/etc qiong ding - unclear but YQY wears black in the donghua and “dark-hued robes” in ch. 19 bai zhan - black disciple uniform, but LQG wears white (novel) xian shu - pink/purple (donghua) an ding - blue (official art)

others unknown :/

MISC.

how did Airplane die?

He spilled noodles onto his laptop while laughing at Peerless Cucumber's forum posts and electrocuted himself when he pulled the plug out trying to save his half-finished file. This is kind of weird because if Airplane had an unfinished draft on his laptop when he died, SY couldn’t have finished reading the entire novel; unless the system somehow finished the chapter, uploaded it as the final chapter after Airplane died, and did such a bad job that it killed SY. Alternatively, he could have been working on a bonus chapter after finishing the main story, in which case SY was already dead by this point :0

but yeah TECHNICALLY you could argue that cumplane indirectly killed each other lol

However, Airplane transmigrated into a baby Shang Qinghua; he spent probably at least 30 extra years in "PIDW" compared to SY

huan hua

little palace mistress is the old palace master’s daughter, not granddaughter

all demons have forehead marks

fanon, straight up contradicts the canon text. only heavenly demons have demon marks in the novel, despite what some of the official art suggests. also, this type of mark would be called a zui yin, not a huadian. svsss-fanon-exposed post here

Liu Mingyan

Liu Mingyan is not confirmed to be either head disciple or even the most senior disciple. she might be! but it’s not stated in canon. svsss-fanon-exposed post about head disciples here

that's it for now! again, lmk if there's anything i missed or anything else i should add!! + check notes for comments from others :)

#svsss #lbh #sqq #sj #sy #svsss meta #scum villain #scum villain's self saving system #mxtx #ren zha fanpai zijiu xitong #luo binghe #shen jiu #shen yuan #shen qingqiu #airplane shooting towards the sky #miao #argument ammunition #meta yapping

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brain-rot-central · 7 months

Text

Sonnet of the Lone Cardinal, Ch. 2

A/N: HEAVY TW FOR PREGNANCY AND TALK OF CHOICES. I understand this is a sensitive topic for some. Feel free to skip over this chapter; I will completely understand.

Rating: M - soft E Word count: 3.7k Pairing: Ascended Astarion/Fem!Tav Warnings: pregnancy, discussion of pregnancy termination, mention of prior sexual acts, emetophobia tw, angst, loss of consciousness, druids are connected with nature and shit, stalking behavior

Summary: Astarion's visit wasn't a one-off event. He and Tav have continued to meet nightly over the last few months, Tav all but losing track of time. It isn't until she ends up at the home of a certain druid that time catches up to her. She's now charged with a difficult choice, all while under the never-ending watch of her clandestine lover.

♥ Previous Chapter ♥ Next Chapter ♥ Link to Ao3

It's a day of rest for the citizens of Baldur's Gate, and the market is restless. Errands that have been pushed off for the last tenday all beg the same level of attention as shoppers flit from one store to another. Children laugh in the streets as they run past, mothers hopelessly screaming their names in an attempt to track them down.

Tav peruses the wares of various street vendors and shopkeepers. Her bag is already full, though she makes a quick argument with herself that she could absolutely use a new scarf. Mindlessly, she scratches the side of her neck while browsing the collection of woolen scarves at an upscale boutique. A sting of pain shoots down her neck, an unpleasant reminder of the discolored welt she had sucked into her flesh a couple nights ago.

The visits have continued since that first night. Astarion never gives much warning as to when or if he will return. It’s always the same modus operandi - he shows up unannounced, they spat, they have sex, and he's gone come morning. Tav rubs over the sore spot on her neck again, wincing as she recalls the evening's events.

Astarion was particularly rough that night. She could tell something else must have been preoccupying his thoughts as he didn't care much for their usual banter. No, he very quickly got straight to work, his fingers sinking into her cunt as he sucked the mark deep into her throat. Feeling a blush rising to her cheeks, Tav shakes her head in an attempt to rid her mind of the memory. At least until she's no longer in public.

Gazing across the store, Tav settles on a particular scarf. It's a light-gray color with various types of flowers embroidered throughout. Bringing it to the shop owner, they make light conversation regarding the detailing of the scarf as Tav expresses her desire to buy it. Tav pays the fee, stepping over to the shop’s mirror to place it around her neck. She gasps as she narrows in on the bruised skin of her neck, seeming to be worse now than earlier this morning. Heat rises to her cheeks once again as she winds the scarf around the column of her neck, paying extra care to position the fabric over her secret.

Waving to the shopkeeper, Tav exits the boutique and heads toward her next destination - the butcher's. Her freezebox is running empty, and there's only so much more vegetable soup she can eat before tiring of it.

Truth be told, however, her appetite has shifted dramatically in the last few weeks. Even Astarion has commented after she nearly upchucked all over his loafers. He's agreed to go lighter on the cologne going forward, and thank the Gods he's obliged. Tav vaguely wonders if she's fighting off some type of illness, though it's been much too long for a simple stomach bug.

She's reminded just how tender her breasts have become as well, yelping aloud as she collides into the back of another shopper out in the street. “I'm so sorry!” Tav says quickly, ducking out of view before the victim can get a good look at her. She winces at the soreness of her bosom as she adjusts her bodice, dipping into her favorite butcher shop.

“Ah, Tav!” greets the butcher, warm and welcoming. A halfling, his amber eyes finding her as his lips pull into a smile. “Haven't seen your face a good while,” he comments. “I was startin’a wonder if you'd run off on yet another adventure.”

Tav chuckles and gives a nod. “Good to see you, Gideon. I'm still here!” The scent of meat is oddly strong today. Tav feels her stomach beginning to twist and turn as she surveys the various cuts of meat and fish laid out on the ice of the display cases.

They exchange pleasantries; Gideon shares quick stories about his family, Tav telling him more about her adventures to stop the Absolute. Disappearing into the back of the store, Gideon yells out, “Were ya interested in tryin’ some sausages, Tav?” Before she can reply, Gideon reappears holding a tub of meat trimmings.

Her nostrils are assaulted by the smell. Her stomach is lurching at this point, ready to spill freely up her throat and onto this poor man's pristine wooden floor. “I-Is it a new recipe?” Tav asks, feigning interest. She places a clenched fist over her mouth as she belches.

“No, not a new one,” he explains. Tav watches as he slips a sausage casing onto the spout of the meat grinder. “Improved!” Gideon grabs a handful of trimmings and places them into the funnel atop the grinder. Holding the casing in place, he begins to twist the crank with the opposite hand, machinery grinding the trimmings into mince.

Tav registers the sound of Gideon’s voice in her ears, though none of the words make it across her brain. She's transfixed on the way the meat mince fills the casing. Saliva pools thick on her tongue as a wave of sickness strikes her. The grinding of the meat has intensified the smell; it's not a particularly bad smell. In fact, it smells rather pleasant. But it's a smell; a strong smell, nonetheless, and strong smells are not something she can handle, as of late.

“Tav? Tav!”

She snaps from her daydream as Gideon's voice cuts through her mind. “Oh,” she says, “I'm so sorry. My mind was elsewhere, Gideon. Forgive me.” Tav’s eyes follow Gideon's hands as he gathers more meat trimmings to place within the funnel.

“That's totally fine, dearie! I was just goin’a tell you-”

Gideon cranks the handle again, grinding more meat into the casing. The accompanying smell overwhelms her nose again, and suddenly she's retching, violently, onto the pristine floorboards below - exactly what she didn't want to do.

After some time she's dry heaving, having emptied the full contents of her stomach. Tav then sinks to her knees, vaguely hearing Gideon scream from behind the counter. Her ears are filled with little else but the rapid beating of her own heart. As her chest heaves from the power of her emesis, Tav’s vision narrows a single tunnel. She falls gently onto her side, the touch of Gideon’s hands holding her head the last thing she remembers before slipping away into unconsciousness.

—------------------------------------

The ceiling is unfamiliar.

Tav snaps awake, rising curtly from the bed she lay on, certainly not her own. Immediately she's met with the soothing, pleasant scent of patchouli incense. And sage, lots and lots of sage.

“Ah, you've finally awoken,” a gruff yet feminine voice speaks from the far side of the room.

With a swivel of her head, Tav meets the hazel eyes belonging to this mysterious being. Wild blonde hair is woven into locks, adorned with beaded jewelry. Sun-kissed skin wrinkled by the passing of time, alluding to the beauty she beheld in her youth.

“Jaheira?” Tav asks in confusion. “How did I…?”

“You passed out in the market, little cub,” she explains. Jaheira comes to sit on the edge of the bed, a laugh escaping her. “Boy, you gave that poor shopkeeper a fright. I happened to be not far from where you were when I heard the commotion.”

Running a hand through her hair, Tav recoils after touching a particularly sore spot on the side of her scalp, face pulling into a scowl. “Did you bring me back here?” Tav asks.

With a quick laugh, Jaheira says, “With some help, yes.” She gives a quick nod to Tav. “Don't worry, we maintained your dignity.”

The episode at the butcher's begins to replay in her mind. “Oh, Gods, Gideon!” Tav exclaims, holding her head in her hands. “I ruined his beautiful floors!”

“He seemed more worried about you, little one,” says Jaheira. Quirking a brow as she tilts her head, Jaheira asks, “Who is this man to you? He's not exactly your type.”

Disbelief settling across her face, Tav yells defensively, “Jaheira! He's my butcher!” She winces as another bolt of pain shoots down the side of her skull.

“Ah, go easy,” coos Jaheira, hands coming up in a calming gesture. “I only tease.”

With a sigh, Tav pulls the covers off herself and moves to sit up. She rubs the back of her neck, stretching it side to side. A gentle “pop” is heard once she flexes her neck to the left, shaking out her shoulders before standing.

Looking down, Tav realizes she's naked. Embarrassed, she quickly grabs the duvet from the bed and wraps it around her body. “Why am I-”

“You hit your head on the way down,” Jaheira explains. “I had to check if there were any other injuries.” Seeing Tav’s pained expression, Jaheira adds, “No need to worry, there are none. I've also treated you with balms and oils to ward off a concussion.”

Nodding her head toward Jaheira, Tav scans the room until she finds her clothing in a neat pile on the dresser. She walks over to retrieve her garments, dropping the blanket onto the floor to begin stepping into her trousers.

Tav catches Jaheira's gaze in her periphery. Jaheira is studying her intently, looking curiously at the bruise on her neck. Her vision dips lower to the swell of Tav’s breasts, and further still to the unusual softness of her lower belly. Tav dresses hurriedly, feeling uneasy under Jaheira's watchful stare. She secures the embroidered scarf around her neck before searching for her boots.

“Forgive me for prying,” Jaheira says, cutting through the uneasy silence that has befallen the room. “I couldn't help but notice the mark on your neck.” Lips pulling into a smirk, Jaheira asks, “That isn't a gift from the butcher boy, is it?”

With a laugh, Tav bends down to pick up her boots that rest in the corner of the room. “Oh, most certainly not,” comes her answer. Sliding her feet into her boots with a huff, Tav says, “No, this is from…” Her voice drifts off as she thinks of Astarion. How to describe their situation? The question baffles her. “An old flame,” she settles.

“Ah, so you know this boy?” Jaheira inquiries while raising a brow.

Having tied the laces of her boots, Tav returns to the bed. “For some time, actually,” she explains, taking a seat. “We're… trying to rekindle what once was, I think.” An uneasy discomfort spreads throughout her chest.

Jaheira lifts a hand to Tav’s chin, gently turning her head to the side, exposing the marred flesh of her neck from under the scarf. “Is he handsome?” Jaheira asks jovially, her eyes roaming the young woman’s skin.

With a gentle laugh, Tav replies, “Quite.” Her eyes track the older woman's face, holding her chin steady within Jaheira's grasp.

“And how long have you been rekindling what once was, hmm?”

Furrowing her brow, Tav slowly turns her head, fully facing Jaheira. “I beg your pardon?” Tav asks, befuddled. “That's a rather personal question, don't you think?”

A heavy sigh escapes from the druid’s chest as she closes her eyes. Reopening them, Jaheira asks, “When was the last time you bled, little cub?” The hand that was on Tav’s chin now reaches up to tuck hair behind an ear.

Rage swells within Tav at the emboldened line of questioning. Before a response could form on her tongue, realization washes over her. “I-” she stammers, “I could have sworn it was a few weeks ago, but…”

It has indeed been quite some time. Months, in fact. She's been so preoccupied by Astarion's return into her life, the new dynamic they have formed, working on settling back into how things once were…

Tav simply… forgot. Forgot to keep track.

“Oh, Gods,” Tav exclaims, voice cracking as anxiety begins to take root. “Do you think… I could be…?”

“I have reason to believe,” comes Jaheira’s graceful response, compassion evident across her features. “It would only take a few moments to confirm, if you wish.”

Averting Jaheira's watchful gaze, Tav nods her head. Jaheira motions for Tav to lay down atop the bed, Tav hesitantly complying. A strong sense of despair settles over her as she rests against the pillow. Does she even want to know? Probably, as that would be the more responsible thing to do.

Right?

“Close your eyes and relax,” Jaheira says calmly, hands hovering over Tav’s abdomen. A faint green glow emanates from the palms of Jaheira's hands, and she hums softly. Tav closes her eyes and breathes in a cleansing breath, releasing as much tension on exhale as she can.

The room is silent for a few moments, until Jaheira suddenly jerks back. “By Silvanus,” she gasps, mouth falling agape. Eyes wide as she stares into Tav, who is now sitting upright on the bed.

“What is it?” Tav asks, panicked. “Am I..?”

Jaheira's face twists and contorts before finally settling on bewilderment. “You… are,” she confirms, hushed. Tentatively, she questions, “You… refused your father, did you not?”

Bhaal, her accursed paternity. The source of murderous rage and never-ending blood lust that once threatened to consume her. Something she and Astarion bonded over deeply, back then.

“I did,” Tav answers. “Why do you ask?” She studies Jaheira as the older woman falls silent, lips pressing into a thin line. “Jaheira, what is wrong? Tell me!” she demands.

The druid casts her eyes down at the floor. “The child… is unnatural,” Jaheira gasps, sucking in a large breath. “The aura… It goes against every law of nature.” Disbelief sours her expression further as she shakes her head. “It is an abomination.”

Unnatural. Abomination. Jaheira's words repeat in her mind. Tav's breath hitches as truth sinks in, her vision narrowing.

She is with child. An undead child.

Astarion's child.

“No,” Tav cries, “no, you have to be wrong. It's not possible.” Denial floods her chest, heart beating wildly. The fine hairs of her arms stand on end as a wave of nausea rushes over her; she feels sick. And stupid. So incredibly stupid.

Reclaiming her seat on the bed, Jaheira places her hands over Tav’s. “Oh, sweet girl,” Jaheira says, rubbing circles into her skin. Tav physically recoils at the pity laced within her voice. “Did he tell you he couldn't? They all say that, and none ever mean it.”

Tav shakes her head in disagreement. “No, it's… It isn't that,” Tav begins, voice cracking as a sob pushes past her lips. With a huff, she pulls her hands from Jaheira's and throws them into her lap, defeated. “It… it would have happened already…?” She stares into Jaheira’s eyes, searching desperately for a ledge to pull herself up and out of this nightmare.

Jaheira returns her gaze, her hand cupping Tav's jaw tenderly. She tilts her head, eyes full with understanding before asking, “Cub, do you mean to tell me the father is…?”

Her throat feels tight, almost to the point of suffocation. Pressure builds in her head as Tav tries to choke back the string of sobs that threaten to overwhelm her. Her stomach is flipping violently, much like earlier in the day, though she's unsure of what would come up. Her eyes burn as tears begin to roll down her cheeks, and she finally buries her face within Jaheira's chest, giving herself over to acceptance of her current situation.

Jaheira says nothing at first, placing her hands across the young woman's back, mindlessly rubbing up and down. She presses a kiss atop her hair and begins rocking Tav within her arms, all in an effort to comfort the distraught human. “I thought you left him, Tav?” the druid asks, delicately.

Pulling herself from Jaheira's bosom, Tav wipes her tears with the back of a hand. “I did, but he came looking for me a few months ago.” Stupid, she scolds herself. So godsdamned stupid to ever let him back in. Throwing her hands up, Tav says, “What do I do, Jaheira? He can't ever know.”

“No,” agrees Jaheira, rising from her place on the bed, “he absolutely must not.” Walking over to the dresser at the opposite end of the room, Jaheira opens the top drawer and begins rummaging within. Tav sees her retrieve a small midnight blue bottle, closing the drawer before stepping back over to the bed. “Take this,” Jaheira insists, holding out the bottle to Tav.

Raising a hand, Tav hesitantly retrieves the potion. She studies it intently, rotating the bottle within her grasp. “Essence of Moonshade,” Tav reads off the faded label, inquisitively. “What is this?”

Jaheira sits again on the bed next to Tav. “The wife of a tyrant's most trusted confidant,” explains Jaheira, leaning in closer to the younger woman. Raising her hands, Jaheira encloses them around Tav’s and the bottle. Their eyes meet, concern apparent across the druid’s face as she says, “Drink this, and you needn't worry any longer.”

Furrowing her brow, Tav takes a moment to consider Jaheira's instructions. She quickly stands, ripping her hands away from Jaheira as the puzzle begins to align. “Are you asking me to purge this child, Jaheira?” Tav questions, distraught.

The druid woman is silent for some time before weakly nodding her head. “I am giving you a chance to rid yourself of the curse that grows within.”

Tav clenches her fists rapidly as anger swells within her, beginning to boil over. “His seed sprouted in my belly; does that make me wretched, too, Jaheira?” she shouts, utterly bewildered by what the druid is asking her to consider. “Should I also be purged? Punished for my womb being so favorable as to nurture the child of a monster?” she yells, venomously.

“Tav, no-” Jaheira coos, eyes soft as she extends a hand.

But before the druid can continue, Tav begins to weep. Unrestrained sobs pour from her lips as she sinks to her knees, hiding her face in her hands as she screams, “I can't do it, Jaheira!” Wrapping her arms around her torso, Tav begins rocking herself back and forth. Her skin prickles with anxious energy, heat rising throughout her chest. “They're half of me,” Tav tries reasoning, weakly. Tears fall freely from her eyes, though the sobs begin to subside.

At least, until her arms press down over her chest and she winces at the tenderness of her breasts. A reminder that she is, indeed, pregnant. That this is not a dream. She's transported back into the hellish nightmare she sought such desperate momentary relief outside of, the sobs continuing.

Jaheira kneels down next to the young human woman, a gentle hand rubbing her back. “I am sorry, little one,” says Jaheira, mournfully. “To aid you was my only thought.” Jaheira elaborates while raking a hand through Tav’s auburn locks.

With a gentle shake of her head, Tav says, “No, I apologize, Jaheira. You're only trying to help and I'm…” Being ungrateful, she finishes within her mind. Her thoughts are muddled. A multitude of emotions rushes through her like a river after rain. Tav digs her palms into her eyes and rubs, giving her head another shake as her hands drop into her lap.

“Tav, look at me,” states the druid, a hand coming to hold Tav’s chin again. She lifts the young woman’s face to meet her eyes. “I do not fault you for being beguiled by him. I, too, was once a young woman,” Jaheria with an honest laugh. Her expression softens. “Whatever your decision, please know that I am here.” Jaheira gently strokes a thumb over Tav’s chin and adds, “You may always come to me, whenever you feel the need to.”

Warmth begins to radiate from Tav’s core as Jaheira's words settle over her. She feels pressure mounting in her face again, tears imminent, but for a much different reason. “Thank you, Jaheira,” Tav says, wrapping her arms around the other woman’s waist in a tight embrace.

Jaheira raises her arms, bringing them around Tav’s shoulders. “You are a beautiful, intelligent young woman. I trust you will be fine,” she states emphatically, pressing a kiss against Tav’s temple.

The two women separate, Tav wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. Jaheira helps them stand, nodding toward the forgotten bottle on the bed. “Take that home with you,” Jaheira insists. “You still have some time to decide.”

With a quick nod, Tav walks over to the bed and retrieves the bottle, tucking it into the front pocket of her trousers. “I don't know how to thank you,” admits Tav.

“Ah, don't mention it,” replies Jaheira with a wave of her hand. “Now, be on your way. I'm sure you've grown tired of spending time with an elder.”

Tav laughs as she picks her pack up off the floor, situating it upon her back. She exchanges parting pleasantries with the druid as they walk down the stairs, Jhessem and Tate running past them as they reach the door. Tav waves back as she descends onto the streets of the city, Jaheira yelling something unintelligible toward the rambunctious children as she closes the front door.

Taking a deep breath, Tav pulls the dark blue bottle from her pocket and gives it a quick glance over. She shakes it slightly, watching the liquid slosh to and fro within.

The sound of a bird squawking above draws her attention from the potion, and Tav looks up. On the roof of the home across from Jaheira, a black raven sits perched on the gutter. It cries again, twisting its head in various different directions before taking flight. Tav watches the bird fly off, disappearing from view. Strange, she thinks. Tucking the bottle back into her pocket, she begins the trek back home.

—------------------------------------ Atop the tower wall he stands, golden chalice adorned with rubies in hand. The sun is beginning to set over the city, a golden glow illuminating the many alleyways below. The man extends his opposite arm as a raven appears. The bird perches upon his offered ledge, hopping slightly closer to him as it chatters. “Hello, darling. What news of my damia do you bring?” he purrs to the bird. It squawks in response, the bird's head turning rapidly. Bringing the goblet of wine to his lips, Astarion takes a strong sip. “Is that so?” he responds. Licking his lips, he comments darkly, “How very, very interesting.”

#ascended astarion #astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion smut #fanfiction #astarion ancunin #astarion angst #astarion x female tav #bg3 #astarion x tav #astarion x oc #emetophobia

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orikiys · 1 year

Text

✿ ✿ 〞 voicemails with minho before death knocks

✰ pairings: sick!minho x gn!reader

✰ genre: angst, romance, grief

✰ warnings: major character death, mentions of alzheimer’s illness, lots of what ifs and unsaid thoughts, forever isn’t for ever.

✰ word count: 1.2k + words

one 𖨂

hey, uhm i honestly don’t know what to say but i’ll try. so it’s five forty in the morning and i’m sending these to you. the doctors– they said i won’t be able to m-make it. . . and i want to reassure you that whatever happened wasn’t your fault. at all, my kitten. we didn’t know i had this terminal illness, and i think now is the perfect time to say those things i never said. firstly, i love you so much. more than you can imagine. and yes, even more than that tv show of mine. there’s honestly so much to say, but there’s so little time. i have only 2-3 more hours, i suppose? and i begged the doctor to not call you before i’m gone. i know this isn’t fair to you my little star, but i don’t want to see you in pain because of me, or anyone else. which is why i’m afraid of letting go of your hand. afraid that if i go, you will try to follow me blindly, do the wrong things, walk down the wrong paths and will end up losing yourself. i don’t ever want that to happen. ever. so, please don’t cry when i’m gone. i guess you can cry a bit. . . but not much. what if you end up getting a sore throat? if you do, take the medicines from the second drawer in the bathroom, okay?

two 𖨂

i’ll miss you. your goofy faces that you make, your cute little squeaks between your laughs, your beautiful eyes that always shine when you see chocolates and you. all of you. i’ll miss all of you so much. how about you? will you miss me too? will you bake your cinnamon rolls that i love so much at the funeral? or on my birthday? will you? i’m not even sure what happens after death. whether i will even remember you or not, i don’t know. but what i know is, that i’ll watch over you from up there. i’ll always watch. so don’t be afraid to step out of the house after it gets dark. and if you do, carry that pepper spray with you, okay? doesn’t it feel so surreal? me becoming a star, when i always call you my little star? i guess that’s why i’ll have to watch over you from afar. me, a big star. you, my cute little star. i’ll shine bright in the sky, i’m sure of that. so don’t you dare lose that shine on you as well, alright?

three 𖨂

it feels weird and- and scary. i’m so nervous, love. i didn’t want to die like this, never! i wanted to live a long life with you. live with our three little cats, and maybe a few mini versions of ourselves running around our house. i wanted to see you grow old. and i want to keep loving you even when you put hair brushes into the freezer and dishes in the bathroom, i want to be with you. right by your side. and even when you forget to brew your evening coffee, i want to hold your hand and guide you. and even when you keep repeating the same words three times a day, i will pretend it’s new. so that you don’t have to remember that you’re forgetting. yeah, i know it. the doctors told me you can have alzheimer’s over time, it’s highly possible. but i’m afraid i won’t be able to take care of you kitten. and i’m sorry– i really am. i wish it didn’t have to end this way.

four 𖨂

i know you. you were looking for forever. i couldn’t give you that. but i can at least take the batteries out of the clocks so that we’ll be stuck inside this moment as if time had really been stopped. so that i’ll almost get a million extra seconds to spend with you, except here seconds do not exist. it’s only the two of us. you and i. in our forever. and when i die, you can crank your watch– restart the clocks and begin the time. and know that we were infinite the moment you were mine. i’ll always be yours. always. i promise. but i want you to move on. i want you to experience love again while you’re still young. i’ll support every decision of yours from up there, and i’ll cheer on you. i don’t ever want to hold you back. nuh-uh. i want you to move forward, and even though you can look back, i don’t ever want you think you could’ve changed the past. you need to walk on a different road now. one without me. and though it hurts to say this– you need to live without me. live for us. live for the future you always wanted. live to complete those bucket lists of yours and even mine, since i couldn’t complete even a single of them. live. just live happily.

five 𖨂

it’s ten minutes past seven, and i feel sick. pain scale infinite/100. my whole body feels on fire. my hands– they wouldn’t stop trembling no matter how hard i try. my lips have turned pale, and i feel it coming. i can sense it. i can sense death waiting on the door. waiting that the moment i finish it’s going to snatch me away from you, from this world. and i’m trying to stall time. but my body doesn’t listen to me anymore. it’s become weaker and more. . . stubborn. my love. i wish i could call you that more often. my little star. my kitten. all these nicknames are the only way i survived my nights admitted in this hospital. i used to think of you. think of what you would do after i’m gone. think of what you would feel. think of who else would cry for me. and i don’t know what to do. i really don’t. i feel just so helpless. i don’t know what to do anymore. i really don’t. i hope you’re not sad because of it. please don’t be. take care of our three beautiful children okay? tell them that their father has gone to a beautiful place, show them your love, sing to them at night and take them in your arms when you feel sad. and if you ever miss me, look at the rain, or the stars or the clouds, i’ll always be here to listen. always. just as i promised.

six 𖨂

i hoped that death would be a bit kinder. i hoped she gave me some more time, some more years i could spend loving, admiring and memorizing every bit of you. but it’s always unexpected. she comes in unexpected ways and takes away our loved ones in the blink of an eye. i’m talking like a true poet now, aren’t i? give that pink letter to my parents, green one for each members and blue one for you. tell them to open that after a week, it applies to you as well, missy. be kinder to yourself. love yourself. look at the mirror and think of my compliments. felix gives the best hugs. hug him if you feel low. if you ever feel drained out like me. i’m tired now. just– so so tired. can i rest now? please? i’ll always love you regardless of whatever may come. and i’ll always be in your heart. i’m about to be a star, my love. s-signing off, yours forever.

taglist: @taeriffic

for anyone who wants to be added to the taglist either send me an ask without anon (cause it’s s taglist) or fill the form linked in my masterlist <333

#ॱଳ͘#stray kids x reader #stray kids reactions #stray kids angst #stray kids imagines #bang chan x reader #minho x reader #minho fic #changbin x reader #hyunjin x reader #han x reader #felix x reader #seungmin x reader #jeongin x reader #skz x gn reader #skz angst #skz imagines #skz scenarios

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sillygoosealert · 6 months

Note

UUUUUH SAD ANGST SAD ANGST IDEA

Terminally Ill reader who doesn’t treat it and hides it from Bi-Han because he’ll think it’s weakness, and he’s super hard on them for being ‘lazy’ until one day he wakes up to them cold beside him in bed (Bi-Han pov for extra angst)

STOP THIS INES GETTING TO ME

Are you ignoring me? Answer me..

Bi-han angst, no comfort

It’s 4:00 in the morning, it’s time to get up

However, you have trouble even processing that

It's like you’re in rim sleep- 24/7

This upsets Bi-Han greatly, as his spouse, you should be better than this

And he lets you know this

Every day

And every time he sees you

After his habit of nit-picking started, you looked even more exhausted

He would feel pity and let you take a break- if you hadn't started to slack off

Maybe you thought he didn't notice when you stopped to go dry heave for a minute and then continue

Or when you sat down for a minute after only an hour or two of work

He did.

And he wasn't thrilled about the whispers and looks not only you, but he got after you started

Most of them were indifferent- or pitiful

And he hated that

People were pitting you for no reason, not one good enough at least

When you got to your room that night, he snapped

‘Do you know what I saw today?’ he hisses, furrowing his eyebrows

‘No, what did you see hun?’ you are whispering, not sure what he's mad at- or who he’s mad at

‘You sitting down, while on duty’ now he’s fuming, he can’t help when he gets mad. He has his fathers rage

‘I had to take a moment to rest, it isn’t easy working for hours at a time’ You look tired, you’re pale, skin sunken in around your eyes

He noticed, but he noticed other people just like doing their work too

‘Are you pregnant?’

‘What? No, I would tell you if I was pregnant.’ you look..upset? If anyone should be upset it should be him

‘Then you have no excuse. Nothing is stopping you from doing your work.’

You don't say anything as you reach for the door

‘Where are you going?’

‘I’m not sleeping with you tonight.’

He says nothing as you leave

The next day he sees you, yet says nothing

He's too busy anyways

You come back to your room that night, you're actually there before he arrives

Pathetic

He says nothing as you shiver and cough and wheeze

‘I love you’

He hears you whisper not long after he gets into bed

‘Get some rest, I know you need it’

That was his way of saying it back, you knew it

He was far from pleased with your recent performance- but he would never let you think he didn't love you

‘Can you say it back?’

‘Why? We've talked about this before..’

He has told you he isn't fond of saying it

It isn't him

‘Goodnight Bi-Han.’

You're ignoring his question

He doesn't know why, and it upsets him

So he turns away from you as he closes his eyes and eventually falls asleep

When he wakes up and turns to you, your back is facing him

He shakes you gently

But no response

So he shakes you a little harder

No response

‘You have to get up today, I'll give you a few more minutes but that's it.’

After he dresses he goes back for you

‘I know you're awake, and I know you're upset..’

He cares about you, he really does. He wants to pour his heart out every time he has the pleasure of holding you in his arms

He wants to say ‘i love you’ every night and every morning, to make sure you remembered

He wants to start a family with you, and hold you close when you are with child- with his child

And he wants to tell you that

But he won't, or maybe he just can't

‘And we can talk about it later, however we have to get up’

You don't even move to look at him

‘Are you ignoring me?’

Maybe he should understand- give you space and time

But he doesn't understand, he didn't do anything in his eyes

‘Answer me. Are you ignoring me?’

The silence is loud and he stomps over to the bed, forcefully turning you over

Tears stain your cheeks as your eyes are glazed over

An empty look for a once-radiant person

Then he lets go of your cold, lifeless body

There is nothing left in you

It's gone- everything is gone and the world isn't spinning anymore

He isn't breathing

Or blinking

He's just staring

He didn't even realize he was backing up until he backed into a wall

Then he goes to the bed a checks for a pulse

Nothing

He picks up your body and cradles it

His own tears now staining your face

He knows he couldn't have changed you dying

Well, maybe he could have

But he really wishes you knew he at least cared about you

But you didn't

And you never would

🎀

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 5 months

Note

WIBTA for making a formal complaint about the carer for a terminally ill child?

CONTEXT: I am a librarian at a private school in Europe. prior to me taking over the position three years ago, my predecessor established the library as a place where students could be supervised by her at nearly any time with less than five minute's notice. i hate this circumstance but naturally other staff like things this way so it keeps happening after I've asked for it to stop.

I was approached in December about this permanently extending to a student who is terminally ill (this is their last year being able to attend any classes). At the time I thought that their one-to-one assistant/support would be accompanying him to the library, is it is his job to be with that child nearly all day, except when he trades off with someone for breaks (the other person is mostly a substitute but has taken on 5 extra hours for this situation to work out). if there's someone with them, obviously they don't need me to supervise them and I can leave if i need to eat/go to the bathroom/etc. these "library breaks" aren't planned in advance, they're based on how their cognition is that day and stress levels in certain classes that have become more difficult as their condition worsens. I agreed to the situation with the understanding that I would be providing the space, not the supervision. everyone on their care team (class tutor, both carers, school nurse, home-school liaison) has first aid training and much more details on specifics of their condition.

The situation is that now the carer is dropping them to the library and then he is leaving. I've had to miss lunch multiple times in the past fortnight. i spend the time they're in the library alone with me terrified that something is going to happen and i won't be able to help. i hate being left for sometimes an hour in charge of this very ill and very vulnerable child. a few times he's left them with me while I've been teaching a workshop or working with other students. when the regular carer is with the kid (most of the time) they just show up and then he leaves. i don't get any notice. the substitute usually gives me a heads up at the beginning of a class period that they'll be there, but she also stays with them so there's no problem for me. the regular situation is extremely bad for me.

i want to complain formally about the carer doing this. the obvious consequences will be that he will be monitored to make sure he's not leaving the kid unattended and management will start doing spot checks. he may have to do extra courses at home on safeguarding. if anyone else has complained about him, he'll be put on a PIP.

i feel like i might be the asshole because I'm fairly sure library time and his lunch break are the only times that he gets any respite from the situation. he's been the carer for this kid for about five years and knows them really well, and the decline in their condition is hitting him really hard. he will not only lose the extra breaks but he'll gain more work and scrutiny than he's had before, during a really hard time in his life. i don't know what to do to improve my situation except complain, but I know I'll be making his situation way worse. please be harsh.

#aita #am i the asshole

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manhwasedit · 9 months

Text

Manhwa: Extra por tiempo limitado/ The time of the terminally Ill extra

#extra por tiempo limitado #the time of the terminally ill extra #manhwa #fondodepantalla #fondos de manhwas #fondos para celular #wallpaper #love #romance #amor #edit #my edit

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especiallythewomenandthechildren · 10 months

Text

As If Destiny

A/N: I too have fallen ill to the widespread disease that is young snow 😮‍💨 like him being so fine is so unnecessary. Some quick notes: I've never actually written a fic on here nor a reader one in general so please deal with me! Also I wrote out this whole thing, posted it, then it went into oblivion and I had to rewrite it completely so I apologize! Please let me know if I should add anything or am missing certain details that seem necessary. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated, thank you loves❤️

Summary: You've always been kind hearted yet admirably defiant. Or that is at least one of the ways Coriolanus Snow would describe you. Ever since grade school, you have always been on the same level as him in academics and one of his few competitors for the Plinth Prize. But as tragedy struck your family, Coriolanus thought you would fall away from his life, but instead, you got even more intertwined (not to mention the complicated past knots tying your families together).

Warnings: Terminal illness, parent death, death and brutality (it is the hunger games after all) characters may be ooc. I read the book a while ago but don't really remember much of Snows way of thinking (I mean I know its toxic and insane but yk the other things) so I will mostly be basing off the film and my own thoughts. Also I can't spell for the life of me so be prepared for bad spelling and grammar. Enjoy loves!

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Blood just kept on coming. And coming. And coming. Every violent cough shaking your mother's body was followed by spatters of hot, deep red blood. You quickly tried to clean it up as soon as it came out to protect your mother's dignity and to make sure she didn't choke. It took a few minutes, but the coughing session passed and your mother took deep gulps of water, fighting off your attempt to get her to slow down.

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With her engrossed in her cup, you steal a glance at the clock on the wall. As the time for the start of classes nears, the more axinety builds in your chest. Your mother follows your gaze and smiles warmly.

"Run along my little scholar. I will be fine and even better knowing you are sticking your nose in every textbook you can find."

She says in a hoarse voice. You smile slightly and lightly laugh. "That's not how school works, mom. I stick my nose into tissues because of how many textbooks I have to read ."

She rolls her eyes at your little comment and does a little motion gesturing you should be on your way. Shaking your head, you retorted "I still have half an hour till classes begin and I have plenty of time for Rhayen (your driver) to take me to the academy."

You attempt to assure her. Though, it was now your mother's turn to shake her head.

"I know you prefer walking there, don't try to fool me now. You will come back after school and I will be fine. Don't worry, darling."

With a sigh, you stand up and dust off your rouge colored academy uniform and grab your bag. You give your mother a soft kiss on her temple and steal one more glance at the clock. You rush through the halls and down the stairs of your luxurious apartment. The academy wasn't too far from your home, so you could enjoy the walk and the early spring air ruffling your hair.

You tried to smile and nod at the strangers walking past. You needed to clear your mind (distract yourself) so you examined every part of the high class society. Their eyes, faces, hair, clothing, and whatever else you could analyze. With this strategy, it doesn't take long untill the grand structure of the Capital academy to come into view.

As you near the school, you notice a certain curly haired boy sitting on the steps. You feel a sense of relief and pick up your pace. You stop infront of the boy, who seemed too engrossed into his book to notice your sudden appearance.

"Are you behind on the reading or are you being a bookworm?" You question.

He snaps his head up with his familiar smile. "Had some extra time and motivation, so thought I would trudge through this absolute -"

You nudge him with your shoulder to motion to stop talking.

"Yeah yeah I know but be careful: Professor Rhaen always spawns out of nowhere and I would personally prefer if you were not on the receiving end of one of his lectures."

Everyone knew how hard it was to please your professor and how strict your he was. Especially with Sejanus.

He didn't care about his money: professor Rhaen still felt Sejanus was lesser because he was born in the districts.

That sentiment is widely shared with your classmates. From the first day, when little kind hearted Sejanus came to the capital, he was met with stares and whispers. You specifically remember Arachne snubbing the boy. But when lunch came and he sat all alone, seemingly dejected, you sauntered over to his table. Then, just like now, his brown eyes widened in surprise. You smiled and sat down in the chair across from him.

"What's your favorite smell?"

He just stared at you for a while. who asks that. The silence continued untill you got too impatient, a trait you still struggle with, and answer your own question.

"Mine is vanilla because it smells like the sweet cakes my mom makes on special occasions or even sometimes when she is in a really good mood."

A smell that has slowly been creeping its way back into your life after the war. He laughed at your confession and replied that his was lavender, the smell of his mother, or as he calls her, ma.

He was still warry as why you were sitting with him. It was clear you were well liked by your peers and teachers and always seemed to posses the right answers, exemplified in your shared morning classes. But as you both continued your meal and conversation, he felt as if he had been sent an angel that day.

"There's that smile, I've missed it." Sejanus says, breaking you out of your reminiscence.

You duck your head down in some sort of embarrassment and shame. It felt wrong to be smiling and laughing nowadays, especially with the worsening of your mother's condition.

Noticing your reaction and following your train of thought, Sejanus tried to backtrack.

"I didn't mean it like that, Y/N! I'm sorry, you've been suffering and here I am saying stuff like that. I- I- wow I'm such an idiot! I'm truly sorry."

You look up to his genuinely defated and apolgetic face. "You have no reason to be sorry, it's okay. And it's not like I'm the one suffering. I can walk, talk normally, and am not coughing up blood while my face pales and hollows." You say solemnly.

Sejanus opened his mouth to question but was cut off as you both reached your destination. It was best not to discuss your mother's condition around your gossip privy peers around.

You walk to your desks and switch to the topic of later tonight, which you would be having dinner with the Plinths, an occurrence that is becoming more and more often. The last few of your classmates filled in, including Arachne, Clemensia, Festus, and Felix.

A few paces later comes in the charming and handsome Coriolanus Snow. You wouldn't be embarrassed to admit that description, any girl with eyes would agree. With that ever plastered, neutral yet calculated expression on his face, he quickly made his way to his seat, on the other side of you.

He wasn't necessarily friends with you or even Sejanus, but he was far kinder to him than the others were. That's probably one of the many aspects that makes him more appealing. You definitely didn't have a crush on him, but you have zoned out on his side profile once or twice.

Hey, you can't blame a girl!

Well that was your excuse to Sejanus, who caught you seconds in on staring at the blonde. But that was a long time ago. Now you were always zoned out on her.

That's exactly where your mind drifted to as Professor Rhaen began his lecture on the reading assigned. And it stayed there untill the sound of a pen hitting the marble floor brought you back.

You thought it could have been you, especially in your state of hazy focus and sleep deprivation. But taking a quick look at your feet, it was Coriolanus's.

Perfect and proper Coriolanus. Huh.

You hastily grab it and give it back to him, which he accepts with a small greatful smile. A smile that quickly turns into a look of concern.

He grabs your wrist and began examining it. You were stunned and curious what he was looking at until you noticed the deep and clear blood on your wrist, clear even on your deep red uniform.

You must have gotten it when taking care of your mother! You were mentally kicking yourself for being so careless.

"Your bleeding!" He states worridly. He quickly grabs a handkerchief from his bag and attempts to put it on your wrist, but you snap it away from his hold.

You noticed the initials on the white handkerchief. It was his father's. You certainly weren't going to stain such an item of sentiment with blood that wasn't even yours. Her blood.

He was moving to grab your wrist once again but was interrupted by the clear nosies of irritation and frustration of your classmates.

While you and Snow were having your little debacle, Professor Rhaen assigned an extensive research paper that will be due in two months. You understood your peers frustration, the longer you had in this class for an assignment, the more work and harsher the grading will be. But you were greatful for this assignment. It would be a wonderful distraction.

You took a quick look around to gage their reactions and saw Arachne's scowl which made you inwardly chuckle at her expression. But when you came back around to Coriolanus, you saw him still staring at with you a questioning expression.

Questions he would be unable to voice as the bell rang to signal the end of the first period. He tried to stop you or slow you down, but you were extremely focused on getting your materials in your bag and getting out of the intense stare of the blonde.

Sejanus noticed your haste and helped you out, while Snow was attempting to catch up, handkerchief still in hand. But you sped out and straight to the bathroom to wash off the blood covering your hands.

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A/N: Sorry to cut it off here! I felt this was already so long (future me after doing some revisions and having some actual writing under my belt - no it's not.), but don't worry I plan on posting again soon! I am excited to see where this is going I hope you all are too!

#snow lands on top #the hunger games #tbosas #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow #sejanus deserved better #sejanus plinth #sejanus x reader

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arkieve · 3 months

Text

Doctor | @jegulus-microfic | word count: 1011 | cw: mentions of death & terminal illness

“Go fish.”

Regulus stares him down, a particularly indignant look settled in his face. James shrugs and nods towards the pile of cards on the overbed table.

“Liar,” Regulus retorts, he grabs a card anyway. Great. Another useless one.

“Defamation.” James tuts, a pleased smile on his smug face. Regulus rolls his eyes. James looks through his cards and sighs, bored. “Do you have a seven?”

Of course Regulus has a seven, but he hates James right now, so he tells him to go fish.

“You know,” James squints his eyes, “it’s rather distasteful to lie to the dying.”

Regulus freezes. “I–I wasn’t–” James delights in his panicked state, leaning back against his pillow, exhaling laughter from his nose.

“You’re an asshole.” Regulus clutches his set of cards, the edges digging into his fingers. He looks down at the bed sheets crumpled under the weight of his bent leg. James thought sitting on the chair beside him was too formal, and who was he to deny him?

“You’re not...” He can’t get himself to finish the sentence. “It’s your turn,” he says instead.

“I am, though,” James says, unwilling to let the conversation slide. “Dying, that is.”

Regulus doesn’t know what to say. James has this strange look on his face, like he’s looking for something.

He wasn’t supposed to be here today. Or any other day, really. He’s visited James with Sirius a handful of times, each time with the peculiar feeling of gravel in his stomach and the urge to retch.

There is a curated schedule around James to make sure he is never alone, and it has worked impeccably until it didn’t and Regulus was called in as backup to keep James company for a few hours.

James had barely acknowledged his existence when he walked in–escorted by a nurse because he forgot where James was staying–his energy already depleted for the day. He did peek through an eye and say, “You’re not my doctor.”

Regulus shook his head and dropped his bag on the floor and sat down beside him. “No, I’m your executioner.”

That earned him a lazy smile, though. James was still too tired to open his eyes. “Finally.”

A warm breeze blows in through the open window, and James shivers. Regulus moves to close the window, but James grabs him by the wrist to stop him, spindly fingers wrapping around him. It takes everything in him not to flinch because James is cold. He’s so cold, and Regulus thinks of the sun and all the times James was compared to it and thinks, ‘this isn’t right.’

As if he can read his mind, James lets go and cradles his hands in his lap. “Leave it. I like the sun.”

Regulus nods and sits down. It feels more awkward now, sitting so close. “Do you want me to get you an extra blanket?”

James scoffs, then inhales sharply, looking up at the ceiling, blinking rapidly.

Regulus can spot the telltale signs of a crying spell, but James never cries. For as long as he’s known him; James has been synonymous with happy, cheerful, and, again, the sun–always the fucking sun. There were instances when Regulus would be on the receiving end of one of James’ signature smiles, or an accidental touch and he’d think; yeah, alright, he is a bit like the sun. So overwhelming that Regulus feared that he’d burn.

He didn’t look like the sun now, though. He looked small, hollowed and drained.

He was dying.

“I’m dying,” James repeats with a shuddering breath.

You’re not dying, the words pile up on Regulus’ tongue, but quickly fizzle out when he catches a defiant glint in James’ eye. It’s right there behind the facade of mirth and playfulness that usually earns him one of those coveted jelly cups from the nurses. Hidden behind the tight coil of his smile. Maybe it didn’t surface just now; perhaps it has been there for a while now, making a home in James.

It was clear as day: James was angry. How long has he been angry?

It’s a stupid thing to wonder. Of course he was angry; he was dying. One day, he was a normal kid; the next, he broke a leg and came back with a cast and a diagnosis, and it all went downhill from there.

There is a fracture there, across the veneer of bravery and acceptance; a break in his act and he looks vulnerable. Broken. Pleading. Angry. He wants Regulus to ask him. To break the flimsy filter in their conversation and be real with him.

When James dies by summer’s end, and everyone who ever knew and loved him gathers, they’ll tell their stories through tears coated with tender laughter and they’ll all settle on the same thing: James was brave through it all. Regulus will remember this moment, will let himself be haunted and weighed down by the guilt and know that no, James wasn’t brave. Not always. Not really.

He’ll shake the feeling that James died as he lived; for others. He didn’t make a fuss, didn’t add to the obvious discomfort and tragedy that came with death. Instead, he fluffed the pillows and dusted off the sheets to make his departure as clean and comfortable as possible for his loved ones.

Except for one moment, the evening when he reached out for the first time–and to Regulus of all people. Regulus should’ve said something.

Regulus should say something.

Open his cage. Let him cry. Let him scream. Let him rage. Hold him. Hold him. Hold him. Tell him it’s unfair, and he shouldn’t go softly.

“Go fish,” he says instead, and he gets this sinking feeling in his stomach

“Hmm?” James blinks, eyes glassy.

Regulus looks down, caressing the seven he does have with his thumb. “It’s your turn, James.”

James looks at him, long and hard, and Regulus faces him head on. James doesn’t find what he’s looking for and frowns. He swallows and nods. Regulus wants to throw up.

“Right,” he reaches for a card.

#jegulus #regulus black #james potter #sunseeker #starchaser #jegulus microfic #marauders #marauders era #kie writes #don't ask me about the rules of 'go fish' i found out i was playing it wrong while writing this

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slytherinshua · 2 months

Text

DEATH'S LONGING

genre. angst. the tiniest most minuscule sprinkle of fluff. flower language never gets old in fics </3. warnings. major character death. reader has a terminal illness (not mentioned what it is) and is hospitalized. just general angst... not proofread. pairing. yujin x fem!reader. wc. 1.7k. request. requested by 🪩 anon from the prompt list but i did slightly change the prompts to fit the story better. a/n. i'm very sorry for this... i didn't mean it for be this angsty.... but don't blame me blame disco for this mess. divider by @/saradika.

It was lonely in the hospital. Apart from mealtimes and daily checkups, the nurses didn’t have time to keep you company in the room. You knew you were running out of time. You didn’t blame Nurse Park or Nurse Jung for not wanting to spend extra time on their shift talking to the girl who would be dead in a couple weeks. You were sick of being a burden to people. Maybe if your terminal illness would just hurry up and do its job, you wouldn’t have to cause mental stress for other people.

You had been offered euthanasia, a rare occurrence in such a small town hospital. But people pitied you, or maybe they just wanted you gone as fast as possible. You declined it, despite knowing that you would be in more pain. You were still waiting. Still waiting for him one last time.

Yujin’s face was stained with tears. He looked out of the train window, wishing that there was any way to get there faster. He just wanted to see you. He didn’t want to be late; he wouldn’t let himself be late. He was the only person you had left, and if there was one thing he was determined to do, it was to be with you for as long as possible.

He had received countless letters from the hospital, each with updates on your condition. He couldn’t bring himself to read most of them. He didn’t want to accept such a cruel fate. Why were you the one who had to suffer?

You had always been close to Yujin, supporting him in everything he aspired to do. Growing up in a small town, the community was tightly knit. Everyone knew that you and Yujin were inseparable. It was easy to tell that there were romantic feelings involved, especially as you grew older.

But unlike Yujin’s future, which was bright and full of endless possibilities, you didn’t have a future. Yujin’s dream had always been to move to a big city, one with skyscrapers reaching to the sky, one bustling with life and innovation. You were never allowed the privilege to dream as big or bright. It always seemed pointless.

But there was one thing you did allow yourself to dream of. One thing that you had always wanted. To be loved, to be in love. You wanted the same thing all the leads in books or movies had. But now as you lay in your hospital bed, staring at the ceiling and the artificial lights that were way too old to shine bright, you were starting to accept that even that small dream would die with you.

“I wish I could just see him one last time…” You gulped. The small plea was heard by no one, and you were once again reminded that you were so, so alone.

Yujin was breathless when he reached the front desk. The train station was a few miles from the hospital, and he had decided that running would be faster than waiting for a ride. Usually he would get tired from such a long distance, but the adrenaline and desperation to see you allowed him to sprint all the way to the small hospital.

The lady at the front desk, who recognized Yujin from a sprained ankle when he was 5, struggled to understand his hurried and stuttered speech. But, she eventually figured out that he was looking for your room, and directed him to the second floor.

He ignored the signs stating that running was not allowed in the halls, rushing past the elderly patients whose eyes widened at the young boy. All Yujin cared about was getting to you as fast as possible, and when he finally reached room 204, his heart finally stopped racing as fast.

He took a second to breathe, wiping the sweat that had collected on his forehead. He wanted to look composed and calm in front of you, as if none of this actually affected him. Although, maintaining that in front of you would almost certainly fail. It had already been over a year since he had seen you. Letters and short phone calls were the only contact he had been surviving off since he first left for the city.

He slid the door open and his eyes met yours. Like a habit, your face brightened, and you opened your arms for Yujin to run into. It all felt like the last missing puzzle piece coming together. You held him as tightly as possible, as if he was the one who was going to disappear instead of you. Sobs wracked your body, your one wish allowed to live on for a few moments longer. The boy you loved was in your arms once again; you had survived long enough to see him one last time.

“I thought I wouldn’t make it in time.” Yujin whispered breathlessly, tightening his grip around you as well. He wanted to memorise everything about the feeling before it was too late, so that the last memory he would have of you would be pleasant.

“I waited for you. I would’ve waited longer if I had to.” You told him earnestly.

Yujin’s eyes stung, and he tried to blink back the tears. He couldn’t imagine how hard it must have been for you. Alone, faced with nothing but the heartbreaking reality that was dealt to you. He felt guilty for wanting to chase his dream, for not staying by your side for as long as he could.

“I had to see you again before I said goodbye.” You whispered, face buried in his neck, relief present in your every movement, every breath, every word. Now that you were in Yujin’s arms, death’s sting couldn’t harm you anymore. You weren’t afraid. Although you still wished for more time, you knew it was impossible. So, instead, you were beyond grateful that at least your final moments weren’t spent alone.

Yujin shook his head, unable to hold back his tears for any longer, “I’m too scared to lose you. Don’t die, please, not yet. I can’t let you go yet.” He stuttered, brain panicked as he held onto you tighter, as if he could give some of his life to you.

You pulled back, wanting to see his face and not just hear his voice. A smile graced your features when you met his eyes. Although he was crying, nose and eyes red and cheeks stained with tears, he still looked beautiful. You cupped his face, wiping one of his tears with your thumb. His lip quivered, and he tried to choke down the wave of emotions that was threatening to hit him. He sniffed, wiping his face of the rest of the tears and clasping your hands with his.

His heart constricted feeling how cold they were. The sight of the IV you were hooked up to, distributing pain medication. His gaze drifted to the monitors to the side of your bed, and the small table in the room. He saw his letters still open on the top of it, neatly ordered from first to last. Even the envelopes were carefully preserved by you. He looked back to you, soaking in your features. You just smiled at him.

“How can you still smile?” He wondered aloud, both awed and dismayed at the sight.

“You came back to me. How could I not be happy?” Your eyes crinkled as your smile brightened, a feeling of pure happiness filling your body, replacing the old feelings of hopelessness and loneliness. You touched his cheek again, tracing the line of his cheekbone and down to his jaw. You had only been away from each other for a year, yet he had still managed to grow more handsome than ever before.

“I wanted to tell you something.” You said softly, immediately grabbing Yujin’s full attention. “Thank you.” It was such a simple statement, just 2 words, yet it felt like Yujin’s heart was completely shattered by them.

You continued with a breath, “Thank you for staying by my side. And thank you for loving me even though you knew you would have to say goodbye. And… thank you for coming back to me.”

Yujin closed his eyes, kissing the palm of your hand. It was enough to convey his thanks back to you, as well as another message. I love you. He knew if he said anything, he would probably end up crying again. It was better to stay silent, basking in the last moments he would ever have with you.

“I want to kiss you.”

Yujin opened his eyes again, eyes softening as he heard your request. He nodded softly, leaning forward to a distance where you could reach his lips. Your touch was tentative and gentle. It was your first kiss, and you knew it would be your last as well. At least, you were fortunate enough to share it with the boy who stole your heart.

It seemed like you both knew that time was running out. As you rested your head back on the pillows and Yujin swallowed back painful emotions, you were once again faced with your unavoidable end.

“I love you. I know it was hard to wait for me… but you can rest now. You don’t have to fight it anymore. I love you, and that’s why I’m letting you go.” Yujin said softly, mustering a smile for you. Just for you.

“I love you.”

It had been months since he confessed those words to you, yet they seemed to follow him wherever he went. Your hospital bed was long empty. The sheets had been neatly folded on the foot of the bed and the room sanitised, the last traces of you eradicated. It no longer held your possession, nor did it smell like you. But Yujin could still feel your presence somehow.

Not just in the hospital, but whenever he visited the columbarium just to stare at your picture again. He brought you flowers every time; pink camellias, which had been your favourite since childhood. They represented longing.

Longing.

That was the feeling that stayed with Yujin every day. It was bitter at times, sweet at others. Memories of you played in his mind and made him smile or laugh. The thought of never seeing you again bruised his heart. But he kept going for you, who had always believed in him, always knowing he was capable of anything he put his mind to. While you were still beside him, your words kept him motivated. Now, your memory served the same purpose. Even when you were gone, you were still with him. Not even death could shadow your love for him.

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