#every person that he kills is just someone that he managed to dress up successfully

[menimimimeni]

Modern AU in which Wen Ning becoming a fierce corpse is just him becoming emo.

[zeroducks-2]

I love your deep dives into the relationships between batman and other characters, because it feels like DC has set it up so that if you look even slightly below the surface of Bruce Wayne's character, you realize just how awful of a person he is. He's selfish and mopey, and values his moral code so highly that he's willing to let countless people die to hold onto his own perceived "good"-ness. I feel like he's created more supervillians than he's successfully stopped.

Thanks anon, and yeah I more or less agree with you. Bruce is deeply flawed and written in a way that more often than not reflects the DC directions of misogyny and enforcing of patriarchal stereotypes, but in a way that's also what makes the character so fascinating to read.

I dislike the exaggerated versions of "good dad Bruce who loves his children above all else" because they're false. Bruce loves some of the vigilante kids he's taken under his roof but his love is conditional; it's not the kind of unbridled affection that comes from a parent, instead manifesting in the form of what little praise and approval he shows towards his "kids" when they act in a way he deems correct. And I especially dislike when fans try to push the "the girls are undoubtedly his favorites" narrative because it couldn't be less true, and he doesn't give a shit about Cass and Steph (they've barely even been there after the reboot anyway). But even if I hate Bruce Wayne as a person, I love him as a character.

Bruce is a very dark character who connects more to someone like Joker than to his own family and friends. He's a prisoner of his own traumas in a way which makes him look constantly wounded, constantly suffering, and everyone around him tends to get sucked into and dragged down by his darkness. He's terribly flawed, and his moral code and perceived goodness is flawed too, but he still holds it as the ultimate standard of righteousness and it doesn't matter who you are and what you do - if you don't abide by it, you lose Bruce's affection and respect. He not only doesn't kill, but would do anything to protect the lives of the people who he claims to want to stop, and when he's written by someone competent, Bruce himself is painfully aware of this and of how much he should be behind the same bars behind which he keeps locking the "rogues".

Because of this, when he shows compassion and understanding it comes off as extremely powerful. When he praises one of his "kids" it feels like the ends of the world. When someone manages to make him light up it feels like the ultimate accomplishment. When in some variants he's shown more human and less stoic, it grips my heart so tight. He's absolutely an awful person but I suppose it does take an awful person to dress like a bat every night and go beat up folks in the street.

[groovycatanime]

There's not a lot of headcanons for Jesus Burgess's family or backstory (in fact, I don't think there are ANY), so I'm going to share some ideas that I've been playing with in my head for a while.

Burgess' parents died when he was really young, so his grandmother, or his 'Abuela' took him in and took care of him all his childhood.

Abuela was a small, sweet and caring old lady, pretty much your typical grandmother, but she was also very fierce and tenacious woman, who was a lot stronger than she appeared, traits that passed on to her grandson.

When Burgess was growing up, he was a bit mischievous (which is likely to be an understatement...) and liked to get into fights with anyone or anything he locked eyes on! Whether it be the town bullies, the drunks from the local bar or a wild animal he happened to come upon, Burgess would fight them!

As expected, this usually got him in a great deal of trouble, which was often reported to Abuela. If the fight Burgess had was with someone who Abuela perceived as troublesome, like the bullies or the drunks, she'd let him get away with it. If it were an innocent child, adult or wild animal, then she'd let him have it! And Abuela is not someone who you want to make angry!!! (She was probably one of the few, if not the only person in town, who could kick Burgess' ass)

Burgess' fighting spirit didn't grow weaker as he got older, which is what a lot of adults in his hometown hoped; it just got stronger, and soon, he was pretty much one of the strongest men in town! Burgess had also been doing his best to not pick fights with every rando he came upon, but he still managed to start fights with some people, though the town was pretty used to it as this point. And the law pretty much thought, "As long as he doesn't kill anyone..."

Now, what drove Burgess to piracy? (I took some inspiration from the backstory of Salvador, a character from Borderlands 2)

So basically, Burgess was pretty much minding his own business in town (a rare thing), and he encounters a fancily dressed person he had never met in town before and decides to challenge them to a fight. To his surprise, the stranger agrees, but he tells Burgess that if he wins, he has to give up all the valuables he has, not just on his person, but in GENERAL, which would include whatever his grandmother possessed.

Burgess, not wanting to put his Abuela through that sort of turmoil, fights the hardest he had ever fought in his life! And he wins! BUT his opponent was not pleased by the outcome of the fight, since apparently, he had a reputation of being a fighting victor where he came from and felt humiliated by his defeat by Burgess, who in his mind, was just a nobody. Burgess pays no heed to the man's frustrations and just goes about his business, thinking the man's anger won't amount to anything harmful.

However, later in the week, the loser, accompanied by several men, go to Abuela's house in an attempt to rob the place as payback against Burgess for his victory. Abuela fights back as best she can, and eventually, Burgess catches wind of it and rushes to her aid, where they successfully fight off the men and restrain the loser. Abuela would've preferred to turn the man in to the local police, but Burgess, enraged that the loser had dared to harm his Abuela, kills the man out of anger. Unfortunately, that proves to be a GRAVE mistake.

Apparently, the loser was not only a popular fighter, but was also from a VERY rich family, who was NOT pleased that Burgess had killed him. Burgess was taken to court, where the reasons for his crimes were explained and the trial went like this at some point:

Judge: Mr. Jesus Burgess, you brutally killed a man of noble birth! Have you anything to say for your actions?

Burgess: He was trying to kill my Abuela!!!

Judge: I know that, but is there anything else you want to say?

Burgess: ...it was fun?

In the end, the punishment for Burgess was either exile or a life sentence in prison, and since Burgess didn't like the idea of being in a cage all his life, he decided to leave his island and have his fights elsewhere, much to his Abuela's dismay.

It would be a couple of weeks later, when he's picking fights on a random island in the South Blue, that he encounters Blackbeard...

So then you must wonder, what happened to Abuela while Burgess was gone? Well, she probably worried about whether he was okay or not, which increased when he got his first bounty poster, like any good grandmother would do. And I have two ideas for what became of her at the present point in the story. One's happy and funny, the other...not so much.

For the happy and funny idea, Burgess gets a wild hair and decides to go to his home island to see how she's doing and brings some of the crew along to meet her. Some of his crewmates, like Augur, try to suggest that this may be a bad idea, but Burgess doesn't listen.

Once in the town, he spots her:

Burgess: ABUELA!!!

Abuela, seeing him and gasping: BURGESS?!

Burgess, starts running towards her: ABUELA!!!

Abuela, starts running towards Burgess: BURGESS!!!

Burgess, still running: ABUELA!!!

Abuela, pulling off one of her sandals: BURGESS!!!

Burgess: Abuela?

Abuela, holding up his bounty poster: BURGESS!!!!!!

Burgess, starts to turn around: OH MIERDA! AUGUR, YOU WERE RIGHT! SHE WASN'T HAPPY TO SEE ME! GET ME OUTTA HERE!

But Augur and the rest of his friends have disappeared and Burgess, despite his possession of the Buff-Buff fruit, once again gets his ass beat by his angry Abuela.

Once Abuela had calmed down, she invites Burgess and his friends to her home for tamales and pastelitos, where she delights them with stories of Burgess' childhood (much to Burgess' embaressment).

Now, as we manga readers know, Burgess's face is now half-metal, and Abuela does ask how that happened, and Burgess is more than happy to answer. Afterwards, Abuela asks Blackbeard if he's willing to recruit the elderly into his crew...

And then a brief idea of a scene in the battle of the Straw Hats and Allies against the Blackbeard pirates would go:

Sabo, staring off into the distance: why is that little old lady running at me with a sandal???

Abuela, raises sandal up: THIS IS FOR HURTING MY GRANDSON!!!

Sabo: WHAT?! You're grandson?! Who's your grandson?

Burgess, whistles, getting Sabo's attention, and points to himself, grinning: It's me. I'm her grandson.

Sabo, looking back at Abuela: Oh fu-.

So, yeah, fun times for Sabo. (On a different note, I feel like Abuela and Dadan would get along GREATLY. They'd have a LOT to talk about!)

Now for the not-so-happy idea (hate me if you feel sad)

Burgess is doing pirate things on the seas, when by some odd chance he comes across someone from his old town who's working on a trade ship the crew happened to be pillaging.

The neighbor recognizes Burgess and informs him that last he saw his Abuela, she wasn't doing well. She had gotten sick with something and had trouble recovering.

Burgess, horrified to hear this, takes Doc Q and goes straight home to the South Blue, hoping to help her and maybe take her back to Fullalead with him.

Unfortunately, he arrives just in time to see her freshly marked grave...

Burgess being Burgess tries to play her death off as no big deal ("Well, I guess that's fate, like Augur would say, or bad luck, like you would say, Doc!), but deep down, he is HURTING. He feels a lot of guilt for not checking in on her, which increases when he learns from his neighbors that she had worried about him a lot when he started becoming a notorious pirate, which likely led to her illness.

Some neighbors phrase this in a way that it makes it seem like her death is Burgess' fault and that he should've never gotten into trouble and gone into exile back then, because who knows, maybe his Abuela would still be alive, and for a time, Burgess agrees...

But eventually, he turns his grief over her death into determination, using his pain to motivate himself to help Blackbeard become the GREATEST pirate in all the world! And maybe make his own strength and winning-streak well-known around the world, too, to show his Abuela, who he was sure was still watching him, didn't raise Burgess for him to amount to being a nobody!

[bluebayousblog]

SWEET TALK

(JOHN B. ROUTLEDGE ONE-SHOT)

This is not a full on story but if you want more I’ll be happy to add on upon request

Plot: in which John B meets a girl at a bonfire after his breakup with Sarah

Setting: S2; bonfire scene

Visuals:

Gwyneth was at a bonfire that was being thrown by some kids at her school, one that she’d came to with her friends but hadn’t seen in a while. The girl didn’t care though, she didn’t mind being by herself where she could observe everyone and sip her drink.

A curse left her lips as she swatted yet another mosquito off of her soft, brown skin. The humid air of the outer banks inhabited all kinds of mosquitoes that loved the vanilla scent she was obsessed with spritzing all over her body. She would take a million bug bites over smelling like absolutely nothing.

Her head was down as she examined the red skin on her thigh obviously not quick enough to avoid actually getting bitten this time. What she didn’t expect was to be sent flying towards the ground as if she weighed nothing, a small squeal leaving her mouth.

“Shit, I am so sorry.” A deep yet familiar voice rushed out.

Gwyn looked up to see none other than John B. Routledge with his hand extended towards her with a sorrowful look on his face. “You’re good I suppose.”

Accepting his hand, another gasp left her as he pulled her up just as easily as he’d knocked her over. This guy had a grip on him, the same grip he’d been accused of killing Sheriff Peterkin with not too long ago, but now he seemed to be a free man.

His little friend group seemed to have a lot of strange things going on that they always managed to get away with but I doubt John B, the golden boy, killed a fucking cop.

“I swear that was an accident.” He promised with urgency still in his voice, like he was trying to avoid upsetting her at all costs.

A tiny laugh left her lips at his nervous demeanor, could he not act normal around people that weren’t in his inner circle.

“Hm, well I would hope you didn’t intentionally tackle me like a full on line backer.” Gwyn joked trying to lighten the mood, successfully prompting a chuckle out of him. “Where were you in such a hurry to that you’re knocking helpless girls over like bowling pins, John B?”

“I’m actually avoiding someone who invited me here, Gwyn.” He taunted, the nerves he once had completely vanishing.

She quirked her eyebrow, slightly surprised at the use of her name from the troublesome boy. “You know my name?”

The two of them went to different schools with Gwyneth being a kook and John B a pogue. Her family didn’t make being in the higher part of society their entire personality but she also found solace where she was having a small friend group at her school.

She wasn’t an uptight priss that thought she was better than anyone, she could befriend a pogue, it just seemed like they weren’t too keen on befriending someone like her.

Which she couldn’t fault them for, the kook reputation proceeded her.

“Of course I do, JJ thinks you’re the hottest girl walking the island.” The boy informed despite his eyes continuously dropping down to glance at her body that was covered in a tight little knit dress that stopped about mid thigh.

When she caught his gaze again he didn’t falter from being caught in the act of checking the girl out, a shameless look on his features as if he was silently saying ‘can you blame me?’

“Really? What else does JJ think about me?” She asks with a suggestive tone, his eyebrows raising telling her he caught on to what exactly she was getting at.

A wave of heat washed over her as he took a step towards her figure, definitely in her personal space but not touching her at all.

“He thinks the way your body looks in anything you wear should be a fucking hazard to the whole town.” He said with a low voice at an obvious attempt to sound sexy, and she would be lying if she said it didn’t send a couple shivers down her spine.

“-Don’t let me forget how he goes on about your scent, and how every time you walk by you have the power to cause a trail of men to follow in suit.” A short laugh leaving his lips.

She watched him as he leaned into her with his eyes closed, not sure if she should be weirded out that he was in fact smelling her neck, this had been the first time they’d actually spoken to each other after all.

“Do I smell like all your favorite things?” She whispers in his ear that was now adjacent to her mouth. The hum he let out vibrated her entire body, almost making her forget what she was about to say, “Anything like Sarah, John B?”

“Oh, you’re funny for that one.” He said as he pulled away but not taking any steps back to create some distance. He ran a hand through his sun kissed hair causing his barely buttoned shirt to open up even more than it already was putting his abs on display.

The boy always looked like he’d stepped out of a sauna, his skin illuminating in the light from the fire across the way from us. “You thought I would let you sweet talk me while having a girlfriend?”

“We’re broken up, Gwyn, I’m sure it’s hot gossip at Kook Academy.” He rolled his eyes. She wasn’t sure if the disgust in his tone was directed at her or how superficial the academy is.

She chose to ignore it, figuring he was still a little sensitive from his breakup, any guy would be devastated at losing the kook princess, Sarah Cameron.

“Yeah, broken up for like two seconds.” She smirked.

Getting sick of standing there and staring at each-other, she decided to lay back against the car they were standing in front of, gazing up at the stars. “The North Star is shining brighter than usual tonight don’t you think?”

Gwyn was met with silence as she looked over to see John B gazing up at the sky with an indistinguishable look on his face, something obviously on his mind.

“Oh shit, don’t tell me that’s like you and Sarah’s star or something.” She partially joked but all amusement fell from her features as she looked over to see he was already gazing at her.

“Yeah, it was our star, now let’s stop talking about her, I’m talking to you right now.” He practically begged.

The shift in his voice at the last part making her body tingle again despite her trying to run him off. While he was definitely still trying to reel her in while still obviously being hung up on his freshly made ex-girlfriend.

“I just don’t want to get involved in any mess is all, the wound is just too fresh.” She sighs.

“So if I were to be honest with you and tell you I didn’t think it’s the end of me and her, you would reject any advances because you don’t want to get strung along, you want something sustainable with me, Gwyn?” He’d managed to flip the script on me within a second, a stupid smirk now on his face.

“No! I just don’t want to get in the way if you plan to get back together with her in a few days, fuck sustainability.” I scoff, having no idea where this was coming from. Why did all males think women had attachment issues and couldn’t fuck and dump just as easily as they did, “You two are too attractive of an couple not be crawling back to each other by next week, it’s simple science.”

To her surprise the smirk on his face grew at her words, still not deterring him whatsoever, “So you think I’m cute then?”

“-that’s the besides the point, John B.” She groaned, finding it difficult to stop the smile that was forming on her lips.

He moved from his spot beside the girl, now standing in front of her body. She didn’t like the feeling of him towering over her while she relaxed on the warm metal of the car so she propped herself up on her elbows.

“Nah, I think it’s important we establish that right now, I already told you what JJ thinks about you,” he teased, referring to him eyeing me up and masking his apparent attraction for me through his best friend, “and the only way you could get in the way was if Sarah was any where on my radar, and she isn’t the girl that’s got me feining at the moment.

“Oh, for real?”

“For real.” He answers, his legs now touching her glowing brown ones.

She hooked one of her fingers in the waist band to the board shorts he was wearing not really invading any territory and looked up at him through her lashes, “So if we were to kiss you wouldn’t run away feeling all guilty and dirty?”

“No, Gwyn, you had me sniffing you like a dog a few minutes ago for God’s sake and I’m still here.” He groaned seeming to get more impatient with the girl.

She was just fucking with him at this point, and he was catching on to it rather fast, “You having some weird scent fetish and kissing me is two completely different things, John b.”

Just as he was catching on to her games, she could read into his too, not at all shaken when his two hands dropped down beside her head, caging her beneath him, and she couldn’t bring herself to say she hated being in this position.

“I guess we’re going to have to find out, yeah?” He mumbled, leaning further into her body, their lower halves brushing the other.

His face was just a few inches above hers as he tore his eyes away from her’s to glance at her plump lips, Gwyn wetting them with her tongue off instinct. He looked back up at her silently asking for permission, “Yeah, I guess you’re right, JB.”

A moan immediately left her throat as he conjoined their lips together, John b also letting out a deep groan at the feeling of her soft pink lips against his.

Gwyn broke the kiss, pushing him off to drag them on the other side of the car since they weren’t too far from the bonfire, not that she planned on getting drunk and nasty outside with a boy she’d just met.

His lips attached themselves to her neck, trailing light kisses down her collarbone as his back hit the window, “Shit, I think I’ve got more then a scent fetish when it comes to you, Gwyn.”

His words went straight to her vagina as he whispered against her skin, not being able to take his lips off of her. “Stop trying to butter me up.”

She released a high pitched moan as she grabbed his face to pull him from her shoulder, her skin sliding from between his teeth, making her writh from the feel of it. The two stared at each other in silence, Gwyn grinding against him liking the way he struggled to not let his eyes roll to the back of his head as he looked down at her.

The boy dove down to kiss her again at the feeling of her rolling her hips against his yet again, torturing him beyond lengths while barely doing anything to him. She melted into him even more as he ran his hands up her arms to meet her hands that were resting on the sides of his face, squeezing her small ones.

A hum left her lips as she guided their hands down the sides of her body, John B pulling her even tighter against his body if that was possible. A grunt passed through his lips when she removed her hands once his had gotten to her ass, Gwyn swore she felt his dick grow against her at the feel of it.

“Are you an ass guy, John B?” She asked against his lips, his mouth falling open when he squeezed the thick flesh, wasting no time to knead it, “It’s a little more than what you’re used to, can you handle it?”

The thing growing between his legs that was pressing against her thigh spoke for itself, “Fuck, yes.” He dragged out, smacking her ass in the process.

That had her clenching in areas she hadn’t planned on stimulating tonight when she agreed to attend this party with her friends, but she wasn’t as far gone as John B, he probably didn’t even know where he was anymore.

“I’m sure you could, and maybe I would’ve let you find out if you didn’t tackle me to the ground earlier.” She says, placing her hands on his chest and pulling their mouths apart.

“You being serious, Gwyn?” He groaned, but thankfully didn’t look too pissed off. He didn’t seem like the type to force a girl into doing something she didn’t want to, otherwise she wouldn’t have let him kiss her.

“I mean yeah, we just met, what do you take me for?” I give him a toothy grin.

Her eyes struggled not to flicker to his bulge between them as his hands remained on her ass, just holding her against him. “You’re such a tease, but I think you know that already, huh?”

“John B, is that you back there?” A deep voice made us jump.

Our heads snapping to the origin to see Pope staring at our position with wide eyes, John B finally dropping his hands from the girls backside and clearing his throat as she moved away from him, “Yeah, what’s up man?”

“Um, Sarah is looking for you, her and JJ have been searching everywhere, I see you’ve been occupied though.“ shock obvious in his voice.

His friends probably had just gotten used to him being with Sarah for all this time, and now here he was with yet another kook, this guy obviously had a type.

“Dude, there you are, we thought some kook kidnapped your ass.” JJ’s voice catching our attention as he walked over with a beer in his hand and Sarah trailing behind.

He was definitely with a kook, but he was here voluntarily no matter how many time she’d tried to send him away. “Nah, JJ, Pope and I have just been over here talking with Gwyn.”

Sarah gave me a friendly smile as I gave her a small wave—I hadn’t seen her at school since everything went down with her dad—but I guess she was here to distract herself, and here I was macking on her ex-boyfriend.

And, she didn’t need to know that, partially relieved at how easily John B had lied about what he’d been doing over here and roping his poor friend into it as well.

“What’s up, Gwyn?” JJ greeted, the stars in his eyes confirming what John B had said earlier about him thinking I was hot shit was in fact true.

I could feel John B shifting beside me, that problem between his legs not being relieved whatsoever.

“I’m good JJ, your friend was just telling about your little crush.” I smirk, the said friend awkwardly clearing his throat at my words.

“That’s kind of fucked up John B, but hey I got no shame baby.” He shrugged, taking another swig of his beer, making me smile, JJ was the most likeable person to ever exist.

I gave John B one final glance before moving away from the car, hoping he’d gotten that hard-on he was sporting taken care of, the look in his eyes told me I’d landed myself right in the middle of the wake of a disastrous hurricane.

“You want to walk with me to get one of those?” I asked, gesturing towards the bottle in JJ’s hand, wanting to get away from this awkward situation.

Thank God , Kiara wasn’t over here, she definitely would’ve sensed something was up. Sarah obviously had a few drinks under her belt so she hadn’t questioned us at all.

“You drink beer? Now that’s hot.” JJ smirked before dragging me away, taking me away from the storm I’d just help create.

At least for now.

[agustdakasuga]

Between The Bloodshed | Chapter 20

Genre: Mafia!AU, Angst, Romance, Fluff

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Characters: Doctor!Reader, Gangster!Namjoon, Gangster!Seokjin, Gangster!Yoongi, Gangster!Hoseok, Gangster!Jimin, Gangster!Taehyung, Gangster!Jungkook

Summary: Being a freelance doctor, this was just supposed to be any other job, helping a private client and taking care of him through his recovery. But you were not expecting to get caught in something so much darker that would change your life entirely.

The boys are trying their hardest to find you. And you are trying your hardest to find out more, to find out why you are so important. 

Warning: This story is fictional and has nothing to do with real life events or the actual members of BTS. It may contain depictions of violence, blood shed/ gore and mentions of abuse. Please read at your own discretion.

Chapter warning(s): Kidnapping, hint of violence. 

“W-What do you mean gone?” Namjoon was the first to break the silence.

“She was talking to some of our employees. Then she went to the washroom but never returned. They found this placed behind the stack of hand towels.” Jin opened his palm and all the boys saw your wing charm. The one that was supposed to be on your bracelet.

“So, she was taken?” Jimin asked in disbelief. His words made all their stomachs sink, this was their worst nightmare. This was supposed to be the perfect night for all of you.

“It’s obvious she was taken. She left this there for a reason.” Hoseok pointed to the black wing charm.

“There are hundreds of people here. Someone must have seen her. Namjoon, can’t you get access to the cameras? This is your building.” Yoongi asked.

“Let’s go.” Namjoon nodded and led everyone back in.

“I need access to all the security cameras. Now.” Namjoon commanded. The manager nodded, hurriedly bringing the 7 bosses to the security room. Taehyung sat down, typing away.

“Look out for her.” Jin said.

“There!” Jungkook pointed. You were being escorted out by a group of people, walking calmly to not attract any attention. But it was obvious that someone was pointing a weapon at your back to push you forward. For a split second, you turned to the exact camera the boys were watching, meeting eyes with the lens. The boys held their breaths as they watched.

“No...” They watched you get into a car and the car drive away into the night.

“Call a meeting. Now.” Yoongi growled, slamming his palm onto the desk. The boys were quick to move, exiting the small room.

“We’ll get you back.” Taehyung whispered, placing his palm against your face on the screen. Pursing his lips in determination, he ran out of the room to assist his brothers.

“We’re going now. Run the license plate number and put out a notice to our allies.” Namjoon ordered. Their car pulled up and they jumped in.

“Every enemy of ours is a potential suspect.” Jin said.

“We have thousands of people who want to kill us! It might be too late by the time we go through everyone. There has to be a better, more efficient way!” Jimin said impatiently.

“Give doc more credit. She is smart enough to survive a lot longer than we think. Besides, they won’t be so dumb to kill her off quickly. They’ll definitely come into contact with us to give us demands or make us do something for her to safely return.” Yoongi stated, crossing his arms.

“Young masters.” The maid opened the door for them.

“No more visitors. The house is on lockdown until further notice.” Hoseok ordered and the maid nodded, running off to inform the other workers of the house. The boys went to the other wing.

“As expected, the plate is of an old vehicle. It was meant to be scrapped last week.” Jungkook said.

“Get in contact with all your underground informants. Someone must slip somewhere. See if anyone has heard anything.” Namjoon sighed.

“I’ll go meet mine first.” Jungkook grabbed his coat, leaving the house once again. The boys tried to busy themselves but there wasn’t much they could do with no clues. 

“We can hardly see their faces.” Hoseok pointed at the screen, rewatching the footage from different angles. 

“We shouldn’t operate here. Let’s use ‘Magic Shop’.” Jin said. Magic Shop was a shared business between the 7 boys. Like the name, it had everything they needed. Information usually passes through there.

On your side...

When you woke up, you were in an unfamiliar place. You looked around to scan the area, it was a small concrete room with an old bed in the corner, a small barred window to the right and two doors, you guessed one led to a bathroom. Your hands were tied in front of you, ankle chained to the wall, and there was a dull ache at the back of your head. You remembered what happened. 

You were finishing up in the toilet when you heard the door open and footsteps enter the washroom. From the heavy stomp of footsteps and heavier breathing, you knew whoever entered was male and not female.

*KNOCK KNOCK*

“Come out. We know you’re in there.” A gruff voice sounded. You remained silent but you knew that this can only go on for so long. As quiet as possible, you tried to get your phone out of your clutch to reach the boys but there was unfortunately, no signal.

“We’ll break the door down.” They threatened.

“Okay, okay. I’m coming out.” You sighed, hand resting on the doorknob. When you stepped out, you looked up to see two men that you’ve never seen before.

“Let me at least wash my hands first.” You raised an eyebrow. They looked at each other before nodding. You washed your hands with soap, not even meeting eyes with them.

“Are you done?” One growled in annoyance.

“Yeah.” You picked up a hand towel to wipe your hands then tossed the used towel into the bin.

“You’re gonna walk calmly, out of the building. If you dare do anything else, it’ll be the end for you.” You felt cold metal press against your lower back. You nodded as one opened the washroom door for you.

“Go.” They pushed you forward. As you left the washroom, you side eyed the gleam of a gem under the light. You only hoped that the boys would see it. No one suspected anything as you walked out of the building with two men behind you, one standing suspiciously closer than the other. A car pulled up to the steps of the building.

“Get in.” They opened the door. Turning around, you caught sight of a security camera, staring at it for a few seconds before the men impatiently pushed you into the car, slamming the door shut.

As the car drove, you tried to remember where you were headed or at least, some landmarks.

“You guys didn’t blindfold her?!” The driver finally noticed you. The male that was sitting next to you pulled out a blindfold, getting closer to you.

“Get away.” You tried kicking him.

“B*tch!” The male squirmed when you successfully manoeuvred yourself to get him in a chokehold despite the small backseat. But you had forgotten about the other person in the passenger seat.

“Sleep tight, princess.” There was an impact to the back of your head. Black spots appeared in your vision and soon, it was dark.

“Look who’s awake.” One of the doors opened, a bright light shining into your darkroom. You winced slightly at the sudden brightness hitting your eyes. A suited male came in, walking towards you. You stared up at him but the shadow made it impossible. 

“Nice to meet you again.” He said, a teasing tone in his voice. 

“Do I know you?” You groaned. 

“How could you forget me? I’m hurt, doc.” 

“Well, if you didn’t know how light directions work, the light makes it a little hard to see your face. All I see is a shadow now.” You hissed with a glare. Then he bent down and you saw his face. 

“Recognise me now?” He smiled. 

“Not... really?” You tilted your head. His smile fell from his face as he frowned. He backhanded you, waking you fall to the side. Your cheek throbbed and you tasted iron in your mouth, knowing that you were now probably bleeding. 

“Look, I’m sorry you’re butt hurt about me not recognising or remembering you. But I meet new people every day. If everyone is like you and expects me to remember them, my job would be a lot harder than it already is. Stop being petty.” You growled. Usually, someone in your position would be more submissive, considering you didn’t have the upper hand. 

“Ever the smart mouth, doc. Let’s see how long you can keep that up.” He threw his head back, laughing. 

“I also wonder how long it will take for you to realise that kidnapping me and holding me captive isn’t going to do anything.” You raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, doc. Ever so naive. What you don’t know is that with you being here, my boss already has control over your 7 mafia bosses. They’re probably scrambling and panicking to find you.” He said. 

“I’m just an employee.” You shrugged. 

“That’s what you think. You think every employee has a diamond bracelet like you?” He asked. 

“I never really cared, it was just a pretty bracelet to me. But I’m sure you’re about to tell me how important that is.” You said in a bored tone. Under playing everything was now your plan. 

“Only the 7 bosses have that bracelet. It’s a sign of their highest rank. And guess who’s the 8th person to ever get one?” He smirked. You didn’t let it show but deep down, you were surprised. You never really noticed the bracelet on the boys. Because like you said, you never really cared or gave it much thought. 

“So trust me, they’ll be here.” He scoffed.

“Hold on, I’m still trying to understand, so you and/or your boss is the enemy of the boys? You’re not from one of the families I cared for?!” You asked. 

“Oh, doc.” He shook his head, laughing. 

“Man, talk about shallow...” You rolled your eyes. The man just waved, heading for the door. He slammed the door shut, leaving you in darkness once again. You sighed, looking down at your dress that was now dirtied. 

“Who is he?” You wrecked your brains to try and remember. 

“The guy at the casino.” You finally remembered the incident that happened when you first had dinner with the boys outside, at Jin’s casino. 

He tried to speak to you as you were coming out of the washroom and it ended with Yoongi escorting you to the car while the others ‘dealt with him’. Though at that point, you didn’t know what that meant. Now, you imagined how the boys must have given him a ‘stern warning’, for him to have such bitter feelings towards you. 

“Talk about holding a grudge.” You sighed. 

“No wonder they didn’t want me to remove the bracelet. Some VIP treatment this is.” You wondered out loud. You needed to find a way out of here, you couldn’t just sit and wait to be rescued. 

“Let’s see.” You brought your bound hands up to your mouth, hoping to be able to use your teeth to try and loosen the knot. 

“Here. Eat.” The door opened, making you put your hands down quickly. It was one of the men that kidnapped you from the ball. He held a tray and a bottle of water in his hands.

“Is it poisoned?” You looked at him skeptically. 

“You never know until you try, right?” He raised an eyebrow, placing the tray in front of you. 

“Just eat!” He hissed impatiently. 

“You take a bite first. You eat it, I eat it.” You shrugged. The man was given strict orders to make sure that you ate. And all you were doing now was making his job a lot more difficult. He glared at you but you just stared back nonchalantly, not backing down either. 

“It won’t be poisoned. We’re waiting for the 7 to come. If you’re dead, there’s no use in all this.” The man scoffed. 

“If it’s not poisoned, then eat it.” You said. The man closed his eyes, letting out a deep breath. You knew you were being infuriating but your attitude was the only thing that you could use as a self defence now. 

“I swear.” He scooped up the rice and kimchi, taking a bite. 

“Now that wasn’t so hard now, was it?” You said. The guy clicked his tongue, undoing the rope around your hands to let you eat. He took a seat opposite you on the ground, but keeping his distance. 

“This food is sh*t.” You took a bite. 

“Well, it’s all you’re getting so learn to like it.” He crossed his arms. You sighed, eating your food in silence. 

“Alright, I’m done. I might actually throw up if I continue.” You scrunched your face, pushing the tray. The man took the rope to bind your hands again. Seeing the gun holster on his waistband, you knew it would be foolish to try and fight back to escape now. So at this moment, you just had to be obedient and do whatever they told you to do. 

“Ugh.” You threw your head back, trying to get the stiff kinks out of your shoulders and neck. You stared at the metal brace around your ankle, that was gonna be hard to get out of. 

-

“Where’s Taehyung?” Namjoon asked when he came back from his meeting. It was safe to say that thanks to their parents, Namjoon and Yoongi had the most ‘ears to the ground’ in the group. 

“He went for a breather.” Jimin informed softly. 

“We need to think this through. Doc hardly meets anyone with us... Or at least, ones who are alive.” Hoseok said. 

“I’m going for a meeting.” Jin looked at his phone. He stood up and left with his bodyguard in tow. 

“Hyung is right.” Jungkook started a fresh document to list down the times you went to visit any of the boys’ place of business. Most of the time, the boys tried to go home for you to treat them since most of your equipment was at home but of course, there have been urgent times. 

“She came to mine. But the person was dead.” Jimin raised his hand and Jungkook noted that down. The door opened and Taehyung came in. He dragged his bloodied bat on the ground, falling onto his seat. 

“Where were you?” Yoongi asked. 

“Just needed some fresh air.” Was all the younger said. Taehyung didn’t deal with emotions well, which is evident considering what happened with his father. 

“Anyway, we’re listing down the times doc came to our place of business to maybe find out a time where our enemy might have seen her.” Namjoon got his up to speed.

“Did you forget she doesn’t even know that she wears our family band around her wrist?” Taehyung asked. 

“Did she not even notice?” 

“No, she didn’t even know what I was talking about when I mentioned it to her at the club the other night. She thought it was just a nice gift. I told her the gist of it but she probably thought that most, if not all, our employees have one too.” Jimin informed. 

“Whatever it is. We’re all just trying to form at least a list of suspects. Every option, we’ll try it.” Yoongi said. 

“She hasn’t been to Stigma or Singularity before. I usually handle those businesses outside and try to go home to get treated by her.” Taehyung crossed his arms.

“Stop looking at that.” He saw Jungkook still had the paused video of you staring at the camera on his computer screen. 

“Let him be.” Namjoon chided. 

“I got video footage from Daydream.” Hoseok informed. His place was one of the only one that the car could have possibly driven past. If they did, they would have a general direction of where you went. 

“Hook it up to the screen.” Jungkook handed Hoseok the cable to hook his computer up to the screen and he played the footage from the night before. He carefully skipped forward the seconds, they couldn’t risk missing something. Everyone was quiet, their focus on the video footage in front of them. Jimin stood up from his seat. 

“There. Fast backwards 10 seconds. Slow the video down.” He pointed. Hoseok moved the video back. In the slowed freeze frames, they saw the exact car drive past Daydream and take a left.

“Hobi, where does that road lead to?” Yoongi asked. 

“Uh, the car slanted left. That leads to the highway... Up north, I think.” Hoseok pulled up the map. 

“Yes. That highway heads north.” Taehyung said. Finally, the boys felt like they had a breakthrough. The kidnappers probably held you captive somewhere up north of Seoul. 

“Who are the clans in the north?” Namjoon asked. 

“Here they are.” Jungkook flipped through the photos on the screen. 

“It is one of them. No one else would let another gang on their territory, knowing that they kidnapped one of ours. Unless they want an unnecessary war on their hands.” Yoongi said. Even if they did have enemies, a lot of gangs would rather be an ally instead. Bangtan was just that scary. 

“I’ll call Jin hyung and let him know.” Jimin took his phone out, stepping aside to call the eldest, letting him know what they had found out so far. 

It only took 20 minutes for Jin to come back, unsuccessful from meeting with all his informants. No one had a clue as to who was vengeful enough to kidnap you from Bangtan. 

“We’ll start visiting some of them. You guys fill Jin hyung in on what’s going on. It’ll be faster if we split up to visit the gangs.” Taehyung said.

“Okay. Don’t be reckless.” Namjoon said. Jimin nodded, a silent promise to keep Taehyung in check. Grabbing what they needed, the duo left ‘Magic Shop’ immediately. 

“Show me the photos.” Jin said. Once again, Jungkook pulled up the photos. 

“Hold on. Go back.” Jin stopped the maknae. Jungkook clicked the slide, going back to show the photos of the leaders and righthand men from one of the gangs. Jin moved closer, squinting slightly. 

“That guy... Don’t you recognise him?” Jin pointed. 

“What do you mean?” Yoongi asked. 

“We’ve encountered him before. That first dinner with (y/n) at my casino. He harassed her outside the washrooms. Jungkook came to rescue her in time and Yoongi took her away before he could reveal anything. We didn’t kill him since we didn’t want to make anything too obvious yet.” Jin frowned. The others finally remembered. 

“But she didn’t have a bracelet yet.” Hoseok reminded.

“From the way Jungkook sprung to protect her... They must have been keeping tabs on her.” Namjoon concluded. 

Just then, the phone rang. 

~~

Ko-fi link

Series Masterlist

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[tothemeadow]

How Genshin Characters View the Traveler (aka crushes galore)

I know this isn't a Genshin blog but I need to get this off my chest and organize my thoughts because I believe in Aether harem supremacy ✌

Disclaimer: this is meant for fun, so don’t get your knickers in a twist

Albedo

Albedo blatantly admits that the traveler fascinates them. He'll usually ask to hear of their numerous journeys and take notes on them. He quite enjoys their company, but Albedo is pretty clueless about his own feelings, especially those of the romantic sort. He wonders why he catches himself staring at them so much.

Amber

Amber is easily one of the traveler’s biggest supporters. She almost gets a bit too excited whenever they’re around, but she’ll also outright deny that she has a crush on them if anyone were to poke fun at her. If time allows it, she’ll often ask them to go gliding around Mondstadt with her.

Ayaka

Ever since she first heard of the traveler, their accomplishments genuinely impressed Ayaka. However, once she first met them in person, she was taken aback by how attractive they were. Furthermore, once they helped her out, she gets more insight of how truly wonderful they are and her affections (hence the dance performance).

Barbara

Barbara truly believes they are an actual gift sent by Barbatos himself. Not only are they kind and helpful, but they treat her with respect as a person, not some glorified object. She tends to get flustered easily and turns shy whenever the traveler compliments her.

Beidou

Beidou likes to laugh, and she thinks the traveler is funny. She often swaps stories about fights and adventures with them, so there’s definitely a bond between them! She especially appreciates their fighting spirit and would be honored to have them join their crew or at least be a drinking buddy (despite what the traveler says).

Bennett

The traveler is essentially an idol in Bennett's eyes. He admires them so much, but it never gets to the creepy level of obsession. He jumps at the opportunity to travel with them every time. Bennett isn't really good with distinguishing feelings, but knowing that they treat him as an equal makes his stomach flutter.

Childe

Hey girlie 😏 Childe gets off to the idea of someone successfully kicking his ass or potentially being able to kill him, so he is an absolute simp for the traveler. He genuinely loves it when they show disinterest at his flirting, and he swoons whenever they're sarcastic with him. He's not pathetic, he's just a sadomasochist.

Chongyun

Frankly, Chongyun’s just happy to have another friend besides Xingqiu. He also really likes the way they don’t push him out of his comfort zone, but instead try to gently coax him out. He’s often very cold to the touch and constantly chilly, but he feels oddly warm whenever the traveler is beside him.

Diluc

Appreciates the fact that the traveler isn't full of shit (unlike some people). He's impressed by their competence and their fighting abilities, so he doesn't hesitate in complimenting them. He usually says things without really thinking through them, so sometimes Diluc says something sappy or embarrassing without meaning to.

Diona

Diona thinks the traveler may or may not be cute. She won't admit it, though. She won't admit that she cares about their wellbeing either. The traveler is just another person who's going to come and go, so there's no point in getting invested in them. It's a relatively simple crush, nothing more.

Eula

Eula is more or less impressed with the traveler. She views them as a truly reliable person that is able to get the job done. Although she may seem skeptical at times, one of her greatest fantasies is to find more rebellious people like them and break free of Mondstadt and her lineage.

Fischl

Perhaps the traveler is a dashing monarch from another world! It genuinely excites her that they follow along with her roleplaying, even when some of her messages get lost in translation. She appreciates their friendly gestures and the fact they don’t treat her like an outsider.

Ganyu

A lot of people have a difficult have a hard time understanding Ganyu’s feelings, so it came as quite as a surprise that she and the traveler clicked almost instantly. The traveler treats her as another person, not as some ancient being; this type of behavior is what made her become flustered around them in the first place ☺️

Hu Tao

Thinks they’re super cute! She’s one who’s playful and flirty; however, her ways are a bit odd. She usually tries to tell what kind of casket she’d lick out for the traveler, what she’d dress them in, etc. Sometimes, she’ll bake “special cookies” in the shapes of bones just for them.

Jean

Much like Barbara, Jean sees the traveler as a blessing. However, unlike Barbara, Jean doesn't swoon over their looks or mannerisms; frankly, she's just glad that someone rational is willing to help and not make too much of a commotion (like some certain members of the Knights of Favonius).

Kazuha

Has feelings for the traveler and makes no effort to hide them. Often times Kazuha will write them poems or haikus; sometimes he'll add dried flowers or a pretty leaf. He truly has a way with words, and it never fails to stir something inside the traveler's chest. He's very gentle and mild-mannered, so he never forces anything too heavy on them.

Kaeya

Kaeya is a humongous flirt and everyone knows it. However, he seems even more so once the traveler is in the picture, and he has the tendency of showing off in some sort of way. He knows he's attractive and uses his looks to advantage whenever he can, though he makes sure to keep it somewhat subtle.

Keqing

Keqing isn’t the type to deal with people’s shit and isn’t fond of fools. Fortunately, the traveler doesn’t fall into either of those categories, so she gets along with them quite well. She can find similarities in their personalities (like working constantly), so she appreciates the fact that she can openly discuss these sort of problems with them.

Klee

Genuinely sees them as an older sibling! Klee often goes to them for advice or to spend the day together; often times, she'll send letters or drawings whenever they're apart (and yes, the drawings usually consist of her and the traveler blowing something up).

Lisa

Another flirt, no problems asked. Lisa makes euphemisms quite a bit, and it truly brings her joy when her comments make the traveler blush. Despite being scolded by Jean to tone it down a bit, she genuinely can't help it. The traveler is her personal cutie, and it's only natural for her to treat them as such, isn't it?

Mona

She could easily tell right away that the traveler was someone special upon first glance. Mona sometimes dreams about them - especially about how they helped her out and landed her a place to stay in Mondstadt. She’s grateful for everything that the traveler has done, yet she’ll deny any feelings for them with a bright blush on her face.

Ningguang

The traveler is seen more as a pet. Ningguang is straight up the sugar mama type, and she openly flaunts it. Granted, she respects the traveler highly, but something about their being Liyue’s hero sounds very, very charming. Whether or not she makes a romantic move is entirely up to her, but it’s not out of the question.

Noelle

Needless to say, Noelle gets flustered fairly easily, so whenever the traveler shows affection and support towards her abilities, she somewhat short-circuits. She'll usually try to play off the fluttering in her heart and simply convince herself that the traveler is only being nice, but she can't deny the fact that she has feelings for them.

Qiqi

Another one that looks up to the traveler as an older sibling. She often refers to her notebook to remind herself as to why she likes them so much; they’re patient with her and genuinely try to help her remember things, plus they’ll bring her candies from Mondstadt sometimes.

Razor

Razor has no idea what romantic feelings are or how he should identify them. All he knows is that he gets excited whenever he sees the traveler, and his metaphorical tail wags furiously. He's keen on protecting them and bringing them food, plus he likes to lie next to them when they relax by the fire.

Rosaria

Like Diluc, Rosaria likes how the traveler isn’t full of shit and can actually put up a decent fight. However, she isn’t the type to compliment them, but rather points out how they can further hone their skills. If anything, she acts more like the traveler’s drunk aunt.

Sayu

She’s mostly indifferent towards the traveler, but - like with most people - she envies their height. Sayu appreciates that they don’t make fun of her size, plus they somehow always manage to find her when she’s hiding for her nap, so she’s fairly interested in what kind of person they are.

Sucrose

Like with most people, Sucrose is quite shy around the traveler, but for some reason she feels more comfortable around them than anyone else. She respects them much like she respects Albedo. She also thinks the traveler has a very nice smile.

Thoma

Thoma is another flirt, but he’s much more reserved in his ways. He’ll often make encouraging comments or flatter the traveler with a bright smile. His flirting either makes the traveler blush or it goes right over their head. There is no in between.

Venti

Venti has a slight... obsession for them. Not in a creepy way, but more in a clingy sense. He practically hangs from them whenever he's messing around, and he unashamedly writes them songs. Venti is also a big fan of hugs! When he's drunk, though, that's when things take a darker, more seductive turn...

Xiangling

Xiangling’s poor little heart goes doki doki whenever she gets to cook for the traveler, have them cook with her, or eat a meal that they prepared. The way to her heart is definitely through her stomach! It’s a fairly small crush since cooking is her true love in life, but if the traveler pops up at Wanmin Restaurant and specifically asks for her again… Oh boy.

Xiao

Secretly has feelings for the traveler, but he refuses to admit it. Xiao thinks feelings like these are a waste of time and only bring pain; since he's been through much and the ultimate emo, he's even more emotionally constipated than the normal person. Although he doesn't outright say it, he'll often show his affection through actions.

Xingqiu

Two words: library dates. Whether if it's meant to be romantic or not, Xingqiu has an affinity for those who show genuine intelligence and is willing to discuss stories with him. Xingqiu could literally sit there all day and listen to the traveler tell him about the different worlds he's been to. It's quite refreshing!

Xinyan

Like Venti, Xinyan will write songs for the traveler, but she's more timid about showing them since rock music has yet a long way to go in Liyue, much less in Teyvat. She'll casually invite them for a jam session and ask for their opinion on how her songs sound. All in all, she thinks the traveler is pretty rad 👀

Yanfei

Yanfei is very skilled and knowledgeable in a wide range of topics, but when it comes to the art of seduction… not so much. She isn’t entirely sure if she has affections towards the traveler or not, but she enjoys being in their company nonetheless. However… she may or may not have tried to teach them Liyue law while over tea 😅

Yoimiya

Thinks the traveler is a lot of fun! She was already interested by the mere fact that they were an outsider, but once they showed their worth and came to her aid, it really sealed the deal. Viewing fireworks with them was an incredibly crucial moment, and she’ll keep that memory stored in her heart for all time.

Zhongli

Zhongli is very protective of them and wants to spoil them, but at the same time, he's also very, very broke. It's not sugar daddy status, obviously, but he enjoys treating them out to a dinner or a night on the town. The traveler thinks he's doing it just to be nice, but Paimon calls bullshit.

[marsofaries]

The Itsy Bitsy Spider {Katsuki Bakugou x Reader}

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: Cursing, Blood, Assault

Summary: Your grumpy (and ridiculously attractive) neighbor helps you rid of the spider in your new apartment. Things grow from there.

Notes: fem!Reader, ProHero!Bakugou, Bakugou hates feelings

That’s it. You were moving out.

So what, that you just managed to unpack the last box in your new apartment? One look at that eight-legged... creature, and it was their apartment now. You weren’t trying to be dramatic, but spiders were the absolute bane of your existence.

This led to you shakily standing over the said arachnid, a large All Might mug trembling faintly in your hands. 

“Oh shit, oh fuck-- FUCK!” You shrieked as the spider took a quick dart to its left. Nope. No way.

It had taken about an hour before the spider was successfully captive. Another hour to finally figure out what to do next. 

And now there you were, pacing back and forth in front of your neighbor’s front door, mumbling failed greetings to yourself like a desperate prayer.

“Hi, I’m-- that’s not right. How about ‘I just moved in and--.’ God, I sound like an idiot.” Gathering all of your courage, you rapped three quick knocks on the front of the wood. The urge to bolt was suddenly very powerful.

“I swear to God, Shitty Hair, if you-- Oh.” The door was suddenly swung open to reveal the most gorgeous person you had ever seen in your whole life. With biceps the size of your head, the man completely dwarfed you in size. He almost took up the entire space of the door, his spikey blond locks brushing the top the frame. Vermillion eyes stared at you cautiously as you forgot everything you were about to say. “The fuck you want?”

As you made no move to answer, the Greek god of a man pulled his lips into a scowl. 

“What are you, a fucking stalker or somethin’?”

That definitely brought you out of your reverence.

“W-What? No!”

A scoff left the man’s lips, and you suddenly wanted nothing more that to kick him straight in the jewels. However, you were on a mission. A mission to rid a tiny eight-eyed demon from your living room.

“There was a, uh...spider.” You slowly trailed off, waving weakly in the direction of your apartment across the hall.

 “A spider? Really?” The blond questioned condescendingly, rolling his stupidly-perfect crimson eyes.

A light flush brushed your cheeks in embarrassment as you stared down at your shoes. You were sure he was going to slam the door right in your face. But he didn’t.

The man brushed right past you, marching right though your open door-- making sure to loudly mumble as many complaints as he could. You stumbled after the tall blond, failing to keep up with his abnormally long strides.

You watched in silence as he crouched by the downturned mug, raising a single perfectly-sculpted brow. However, your silence was quickly turned into a squeak of horror when your neighbor dumped the spider into his bare-hand. 

For a moment of absolute terror, you thought the stranger was going to throw it at you.

Wide-eyed, you watched as he pushed open the nearest window and placed the spider on the railing of your fire-escape. Having pushed the window back down, the man turned back to leave your apartment. As he walked past, he shoved the now (thankfully) empty mug to your chest.

“W-wait!”

He paused, sliding his crimson gaze to yours.

“M-My name is (Y/L/N)… (Y/L/N) (Y/N).”

You weren’t quite sure why you felt the need to give him your name. Maybe it was because he helped you when you were absolutely sure he wouldn’t. Or maybe how he decided to let the bug free instead of kill it. Maybe it was the amused huff he let out when he heard your terrified squeak. Perhaps it was all three. You didn’t know.

His striking red eyes suddenly raked your frame before a smirk settled confidently on his all-too-attractive lips.

“Bakugou Katsuki.”

~~~

“HOLD THE FUCKING DOOR!” 

You let out a squeak at the sudden yell, sticking the toe of your nude-colored pumps between the sliding elevator doors. A muscled arm wedged itself between the doors, pulling them back open.

“You.” You breathed as none other than your extremely hot neighbor was revealed. The blond was clad in a loose black V-neck and sweatpants-- a large duffel bag thrown over his shoulder. His hair was slightly damp, as small beads of water dropped off the edge of his spikes every couple of seconds.

“Stalker.” He acknowledged with a grunt. The corner of Bakugou’s lips shot up at your protests.

The ride down to the lobby was relatively silent and slightly awkward. You kept switching your weight on both legs as you struggled to find something to say.

“The fuck you dressed so fancy for?” The explosive blond finally said. You couldn’t help but let out a breath of relief at the break in silence.

“I got a new job at All Might Bank!” You were pretty excited, as it was your first day. The bank itself was pretty fancy, and you were cheery that it was named after the old symbol of peace. All Might had been your favorite hero growing up but you grew out of your hero phase as you had gotten older. Nowadays you couldn’t tell one hero from the other.

You turned to Bakugou with a smile, content that he even cared about your life. It was quite a surprise when compared with the vibes he gave off.

“What about you?” You asked cheerily. 

“... Agency.” He grunted.

“Oh! Are you a model or something?” You knew it! There was no way that a man as attractive as Bakugou Katsuki was not the cover of every magazine. He was, just not for the reasons you thought. You watched in confusion as the explosive blond emitted a loud snort.

“Or something...”

DING!

You were almost sad as the elevator dinged, signaling the end of the ride. Although it was short, and mostly awkward, you found yourself enjoying his company. You walked side by side until you reached the doors to outside, pausing slightly when he went to part.

“Thank you.”

Bakugou froze at your expressed gratitude, studying your figure with renewed interest.

“You know... for the spider?” You seemed to lose all cognitive brain function when he looked at you with those frustratingly gorgeous vermillion eyes. Bakugou scoffed and turned away, muttering a quiet response. Little did you know that he was trying to hide a light blush.

“Whatever...”

~~~

You were happy to say that these shared elevator rides became a daily ritual, to the point where Bakugou started to bring you his delicious leftovers for your lunch (he made the meals especially for you, but would die before he ever admitted that). Before you knew it, you were quite smitten with the blond.

You couldn’t help but replay this morning’s occurrence in your head as you filed checking account after checking account.

 “Good morning, Bakugou-kun!” You called as you exited your apartment. You didn’t even have to look anymore. Bakugou had a habit of waiting for you outside your door to give you his most current dish. 

“Morning.” He grunted in response, hating the way his heart skipped a beat.

His eyes scanned over your form, (longer than considered friendly) as he checked your outfit. Bakugou always seemed to have some sort of fashion-ready advice on the tip of his tongue, and with you still thinking he was a model-- you were more that happy to comply. And also for the fact that he really did have a good eye for it.

“Undo the top two buttons… you look like a nerd.”

Your eyes quickly flashed to your white button-up, pulling at the two buttons with one hand.

“Better?”

Bakugou only grunted in approval. He was trying to act like he wasn’t on the verge of kissing the ever-lasting life out of you.

~~~

“Hey, Newbie! Get me a coffee, will ya?” You were quickly pulled out of your daydream by one of your (slightly arrogant) bosses.

“Of course, sir.” You answered as you hurried to the other side of the bank. You’ve been at your new job (and apartment) for about a month, and they still won’t let up on the whole “newbie” stuff. 

You sighed as you waited by the coffee maker, situated right to the left of the big glass entrance. Oh, how you would have loved to pour that coffee right over your boss’ head. Too lost in your own head, you failed to notice the suspicious group of men heading straight for the vault until one of them grabbed your arm.

“What the fu--”

“EVERYBODY DOWN OR SHE DIES!” 

Oh shit! Oh fuck! Your mind was reeling at a million miles per hour. The man had pulled you to where your back was to his front, and had a blade pressed against your throat. It seemed to come out of the inside of his wrist, being a relatively deadly quirk if handled correctly.

Everyone within the pristine building froze but quickly dropped to the floor after some warning shots from one of the robbers. Another suddenly morphed into some sort of beast and marched to the steel vault door.

You suddenly wished that you had a more physical quirk, cursing it for being so useless in this situation. Yeah, you knew basic self-defense, but it would be futile with three other villains in your midst.

Minutes felt like hours, and you could only hope that someone had alerted the police and nearby heroes. You winced as the blade dug into the delicate skin of your throat.

A sudden explosion burst through the skylight of the building, raining glass shards on the hostages. All at once, people were screaming, running, and blast after blast started ringing in your ears. You let out a sigh of relief.

The heroes were here.

Using the distraction, you quickly gripped the man’s arm tight below the base of the blade. You pulled it away from your neck ever so slightly, ducking your head to pull yourself through the gateway you had created. Keeping your hands locked at the base of the robber’s wrist, you twisted his arm and shoved up-- forcing it to pop from its socket.

A sudden bump to your shoulder from a running hostage caused you to slip up on your little self-defense sequence, allowing the man to break from your grip. He whipped around to face you, holding his dislocated arm. You panicked, so... you socked him in the face.

He let out an enraged cry, thick blood gushing from his nose. You were a bit surprised with how easy it was to land a hit on him. You thought that villains would have been more prepared before robbing a bank named after All Might.

Oh, well.

You punched him again in the nose for good measure, and he was out like a light. His hot red blood coated your knuckles, and you gagged in disgust. Ew. You wiped the back of your dominant hand on you button-up absentmindedly, before being shoved to the floor by your panicking boss. Wow. Your limbs felt like mush now that the adrenaline was wearing off, and you suddenly couldn’t find the strength to pick yourself off of the floor.

A final explosion went off, followed by the most desperate and wretched call you had ever heard in your entire life. And the call... sounded suspiciously like your name.

Your eyes shot up at the scream, searching frantically for the owner of that voice. You knew that voice, you only ever heard it in grunts and light-hearted mocking sentences, but you knew that voice.

“Katsuki.” You breathed, eyes suddenly locked on familiar crimson irises. 

Relief flooded his features as he saw you, and was at your side in seconds-- dropping quickly to his knees. 

“Oh my god.” Bakugou breathed, grabbing your head and cradling it tight to his chest and-- what the fuck was he wearing? Wait, there was no way... he was the explosion hero you saw on the news! Holy fuck!

“You scared the shit out of me! Do you know how terrified I was when I heard there was trouble at your work?! And you didn’t answer your goddamn phone? Jesus Christ, (Y/N).” Worried rambles fell rapidly out of Bakugou’s lips, seemingly void of any filter. You would have been ecstatic by his cute little worrying if your mind wasn’t reeling by the fact that your crush neighbor was one of the top ten heroes in Japan.

He suddenly grasped both sides of your face and pulled back so you were eye to eye.

“Are you hurt? I swear to God, if someone hurt you-- I’ll fucking kill them.” Bakugou’s eyes were frantically scanning your face, looking for any sign of injury.

“...Katsuki?” You mumbled softly, and he immediately froze. He felt his heart lurch in his throat as his name tumbled from your lips. You, on the other hand, were completely, and utterly lost. “You’re a pro-hero?”

“....What?” Bakugou questioned dumbly. “You could have been seriously hurt and that’s the first thing you think about?”

“What? I thought you were a model.” You whined, lightly smacking his chest.

At this, Bakugou let out a loud laugh, and you just watched in awe. You had never seen him laugh before. Even though half his face was smeared in black makeup and little injuries littered his skin-- it was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen in your life. He pulled back to look at you, but suddenly froze.

“You’re hurt! Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?!” Bakugou shouted, spotting bright red stains on the front of your blouse. You quickly grabbed his hand, hoping to soothe his panicking.

“Hey, hey!” You yelped, gaining his attention. “It’s not mine.” 

You gestured over to the villain knocked out next to you.

“Holy shit.” Katsuki breathed, before turning his vermillion gaze back to yours. A quiet, amused huff escaped his lips. “So you’re afraid of a spider, but can knock out a villain?” He questioned teasingly.

A light blush covered your cheeks, causing you to force your eyes down. You suddenly noticed just how close you two were. You were situated about half way onto Bakugou’s lap, as one of his large hands softly held your waist. The other was still trapped between your own. This caused your blush to only darken.

“Hey, eyes up here.” Bakugou muttered, lifting his hand from your waist and to the base of your chin. You force your eyes back up to his, but couldn’t help but sneak a quick glance to his lips. However, Bakugou saw it, and that was all it took.

Bakugou crashed his lips onto yours, and you were quick to respond. You tangled your hands within his soft blond locks, allowing him to completely dominate the kiss. His hands held you tightly to his body, refusing to give even an inch of space between you two. He didn’t let go even as you pulled back for air, his lips chasing after yours.

Time seemed to stop while he was kissing you, and every one was distressed with the thought of losing you. It was soft and sweet, and then rough and desperate-- the sweet smell of caramel, of Bakugou, invading all of your senses. 

You finally broke for air, breaths mingling shamelessly. Bakugou rested his forehead on yours, wanting nothing more than to never let you go.

“I’m so glad I found you, Stalker.”

Bonus:

A low whistle dragged out across bank, turning the couples’ gazes over to a certain hardening hero.

“SHITTY HAIR, I SWEAR TO--”

The End.

Notes:  This was my first imagine! I hope you guys liked it!

The police watching the final scene like: 👁👄👁 can we go home?

[bonny-kookoo]

Bunny Boy Cases: “Hold Your Breath.” (⚠️☁️🔪[❤️]) JJK x Reader

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Genre: YandereAU!, psychological horror, hints of romance

Tags/Warnings: graphic description of murder, asphyxiation/choking, arson, home intrusion/invasion, do NOT read if you feel uncomfortable with ANY of the Tags

Summary: some things can’t be forgiven.

Contrary to what one might believe, Jungkook actually doesn't like killing all that much.

It's messy, it's violent- he knows that if you could see him like that, you would probably never look at him the same way you do again. He doesn't like the idea of involving himself into someone else's business to the extend of ending their life's altogether- he doesn't care enough for others to really have them bother him to that extend.

But sometimes, there's exceptions.

He had known from the start that when he got away, he wouldn't let things go until he knew this person had perished. Ideas of murderous intent had spread in his brain like a raging wildfire- like radioactive lava it had burned through his body, infecting every muscle with the rabid need to get his hands on the guy that had managed to invade his personal space; the little castle he had locked you in, the golden cage he had so carefully crafted for you.

Someone had invaded that space- infesting it with fears that you've never had before.

Now, of course, being the absolute angel you were, you never outright said it. But Jungkook had seen the change in your behavior ever since that day; you were hesitant. You were checking the windows numerous times a day, showered less long than you did before- all signs that you didn't feel comfortable in his home anymore.

Something had to happen.

His car made a weird ticking noise as he drove around the building complexes he knew this demon lived. He should really get that checked out, but it was probably nothing he couldn't fix himself.

After all, he knew how to fix things he broke himself.

He sighed a bit as he stepped out his car; the black facemask he wore making his breath taste stuffy. He probably shouldn't store them in his glovebox, considering his car wasn't the most sanitary thing around. His hood over his head, his glasses fogged up a little as he fixed the position of the mask a bit. Lately, his eyesight had worsened a little- forcing him to wear them again so he could make sure to not make a mistake simply because he didn't like his glasses.

He couldn't screw this up. Who would care for you if he was ever to go to jail?

The mosquito bite on his calf was itching inside his boot- but it was nothing compared to the itching of his inner dog ready to turn feral as he finally made eye contact with the window of the apartment he knew a life would be taken in. Getting in and out would be easy enough; it was dark, the middle of the night on a thursday- no one would think about this jobless guy sitting on his ass inside his crappy apartment during this time.

Jungkook doubted that anyone ever thought about this pathetic being at all.

But who was he to talk really? After all, he had been this low before as well- he had simply found you along his way. His ray of sunlight, breath of fresh air. The reason he was still alive and doing the things he did at this point.

He really loved you.

And he knew you'd understand if you were ever to find out about this. He did it for you, for your safety, for the piece and comfort this guy stole from you. He was only fixing things and giving you back what you had lost because of this selfish creature. Those were the only real thoughts he had as he used one of your hairpins to open the casing of the doorlock to the strangers apartment. Sometimes he was a little bothered by the korean way of securing their apartment doors- it kind of took away the opportunity to lockpick like in those movies he watched as a kid.

What a bummer.

Instead, he had to live with the simply chime of the pin pad as he opened the door quietly. Slipping inside, he scrunched his nose at the stale stench inside-

Jungkook hated strong smells.

To imagine that this pig had seen you made his blood boil even hotter. He could make out some light in one corner of the room; some trash TV still on display as the person on the sofa seemed to be asleep. Quite honestly, Jungkook wanted to click his tongue in annoyance at this. He had expected at least some amount of fun with this- but he would have to keep it quiet tonight anyways. Wrapping the rope around each of his hands for good grip, he simply walked up behind the mid-aged man.

He had no family, at least none he was in contact with. Less for Jungkook to worry about.

He hated the weird gurgling sound the man exhaled as he pulled the rope backwards- successfully cutting off the man's air supply as he looked frantically for the attacker. Jungkook grunted a bit at the force, but his training had really paid itself off after months and months to no end.

There was no way he'd loose this little battle.

And for the younger man, it had always been quiet interesting to see how people died. He had never shied away from the topic like other people would- instead he had always been intrigued by it, in a way. Just like now, as he stared down towards the man he had already forgotten the name of, turning blue just like it was always depicted in literature and movies. He could practically see the guy pass- and decided to make sure, by pushing his boot against the couch, pulling one last time with bigger force.

Until he heard the satisfying crunch.

Technically, this was done now.

But Jungkook liked things clean.

dropping the rope, the black dressed boy walked calmly into the kitchen- scoffing at the unwashed dishes piling up in the sink. It just added up for him that he had done a good thing after all. The man had clearly been wasting away at this point- what he did had simply been natural selection.

He simply shouldn't have done what he did.

Red lines covered his palms where the rope had dug into his skin, as he grabbed kitchen towels and baking sheets from wherever he could, placing them over a power strip close by- tampering a little with it, before he saw the first towel turn black. He stayed until smoke filled the apartment, the kitchen already brightly lit by flames as he watched the carpet leading to the now lifeless body catch fire as well.

That would have to be enough.

Slowly, Jungkook walked down the stairs, uncaring about security cameras at all- after all, he knew exactly how they worked, and at what angle they watched the hallways. Just a step to the side, and he would be unseen.

Sometimes, his hobbies really paid off.

He closed the car door and drove off again, yawning as he thought about his bed, where you would wait for him to return. Now, he would be able to sleep calmly again, and when you would see the news, you would as well. He felt accomplished now, even though his clothes smelled weird now. He did what he had to at the end of the day, and no one should judge him for that.

Walking into a small bakery, Jungkook used some of the money in his pockets to buy something sweet for you. He craved it as well- and he'd always share with you. The lady behind the counter smiled at him, making him return the gesture as he pointed towards the pastry he would like- the elderly woman carefully packaging it before chuckling. "You okay, young boy?" She asked sweetly, and he grinned a bit sheepish, before he stood up from his half kneeling position.

"Ah- yes" He answered. "Just a small mosquito bite."

[ask-runaan-anything]

Runaan@NYCC 2021 AU headcanons

If Runaan actually attended in person with the characters voiced by the VA's who will attend: gosh the muns got self-indulgent, this is long

Runaan leaves home for NYCC 2021 and sends Ethari a single Pleading Face emoji every time he thinks of him

Ethari gets 2472496 Pleading Face emojis while Runaan is away

Runaan brings his favourite book(s) with him to keep him company and also for Serotonin

Rayla mentions this to Callum

Runaan is all WHy did you Tell the HUMAN

but Callum did the exact same thing

Runaan is unexpectedly supported and he's not sure he likes it

they also make a plan for what he (and Rayla) can do if he ever gets very overwhelmed

Ethari@Rayla: Rule #1 is, do not let him shoot anyone

Rayla; *very serious nod*

he rehearses what he'll say at the panel beforehand, using flash cards

and some of the cards say things like "Thank you" bc Ethari worries he'll forget

Ethari color coding the flash cards for "Social" and "Informational" so Runaan can flip through them if he's put on the spot

he also asks Ethari what he can mention about him+what's off limits bc he doesn’t want to make Ethari feel exposed or anything

Runaan: please don't have a Q&A section please don't have a Q&A section please don't have a

host: so let's open it up for a little Q&A now-

Runaan, internally: *bleep*

Under the table he starts flicking through his flash cards

he doesn't realize there's no tablecloth and everyone can see him do it

he watches the recording of it later to find all his faults but Rayla sits right next to him and she's all, "Yes yes they saw you and guess what, no one assassinated you over it, it's okay!"

Runaan goes Soft™

it's like he can feel Ethari there with him through Rayla's words

he has to thank her but words aren't his style so he offers to let her drag him out of the hotel for the first time that trip

ten steps outside and he has regretti

but he promised and his honor is at stake now so he keeps going

Rayla takes him to a bookstore

its slightly outside his comfort zone but it's quiet, and the city streets are so noisy

Ethari texted her a list of recharge spots, and one was a bookstore, with a reading nook, so she takes him there and they curl up on pillows and hammocks for a while

Another time they go out to a coffee shop at 3am

Runaan sends Ethari a Pleading Face emoji

Ethari replies with “!!” and “IT’S 3AM GO TO SLEEP YOU HAVE A PANEL IN THE MORNING”

Runaan just sends him another Pleading Face

Runaan has noise cancelling earshrooms if he needs them

Ethari wears them while he hammers

Ethari sends Runaan jokes to distract him just before his panels start

And Runaan lies down at night to talk to Ethari with his phone near his ear so it feels like back home when Ethari cuddles him

Ethari sending his own homemade "good luck" memes just before Runaan’s panel, so Runaan can fall back on showing them to the audience if he gets nervous, which he does, and they LOVE it, and Runaan is like, “I can see my husband has some support in the human lands, I'll be sure to tell him,” and the room cheers and Runaan is like "Aaaaa this is making me feel so seen but also yes, my husband deserves all the support"

Runaan sleeps surrounded by like 8 extra pillows in the bed so he can feel as snuggled as when Ethari's actually there

and one is Ethari's

Ethari lending Runaan his scarf bc it smells like him

and Runaan not only sleeps with it right near his nose but he wears it during the panel

Runaan wearing his serious face at the panel and answering hard or angsty questions, and the whole time he has earshrooms in and their lil stems are pokin out of his ears

If Runaan is here then all the other characters with VAs at NYCC are also here, so it’s a panel of actual characters

Viren using chopsticks to try and steal one of Runaan's earshrooms out of unbridled curiosity, and Runaan just. takes them away from him. without looking over. and slaps them on the table like. no, bad human, do not steal my earshrooms while I'm talking.

Claudia's flipping through a book but it's a recipe book and she's looking up mushroom soup

Ethari made Runaan an anti-dark magic charm so he's safe and no one can use it on him, so he feels safe attending the panel at all

someone asking about Lachir and Runaan just brightening

also pspsps that person is @hoothalcyon

Runaan goes off for ten minutes unprompted and uninterrupted about his moonstrider, it's about as animated and excited as anyone has ever seen him

Clauds over on the side making big heart eyes

she asks if he has a picture and he says yes and she bounces over to him and squeals loudly

Rayla texts Ethari just then and Ethari gets a FaceTime call going so everyone can see Lachir in person back home, because ofc she is fine and alive

and Lachir looks derpily at the camera like "wat dis"

She do the blep, sniffs camera, makes it smudgy

Ethari laughing and protesting off screen

the entire panel and audience is all "awwwwww"

Viren loudly demanding a cute pet so people will like him too

Runaan does a discreet lil happy stim and it's so discreet that barely anyone catches it except one or two ND's who are like aaaaa

Rayla slipping behind Viren and putting an adoraburr on his ear tho

"One cute pet, courtesy of Xadia! You've had your Adorapox vaccinations, right?" she chirps sassily

yes the pox look like adoraburrs

you are very contagious and very adorable

Janai, someone asks her about Amaya and she gets flustered and Runaan feels seen

audience question during the Q&A: Runaan, who would win in a fight between you and Janai?

Janai, immediately: Me.

Runaan: Her.

Janai flexes, literally

Runaan is happy to give her the spotlight, which is why he lied, bc ofc he thinks he could take her, he'd do it at night and he'd steal her sword first, obviously

nowhere in the question did it say "fair" fight

Amaya is in the audience and she keeps signing flirty things at Janai no matter how loud the room gets or who's asking who what, and Janai keeps getting more and more flustered and distracted

Runaan has one (1) moment where he's actually relieved his husband isn't there

Ethari would want to tease him so badly

Q: Runaan, are you a good dancer?

Runaan: I'm passable, with the right partner.

Q: So can you show us some moves?

Runaan, blushing: Distinctly not.

whistling and clapping ensue

Rayla jumps up and grabs Callum's hand and says, "I can show you some moves!"

and they dance very sweetly and cutely with some basic Moonshadow moves

and Runaan is like "I can't tell if this is worse"

Q: Runaan, how did your marriage proposal go?

Runaan, after a long flustered moment: ...Successfully. *taps his horn cuffs*

Q from someone wanting to know how to follow Runaan on social media: Runaan, you're amazing, where can we find you?

Runaan: The Silvergrove, but you can't actually-

Q: No I mean, what if we want to follow you?

Runaan: You'd need to know the key dance, and that's protected information. Also, stalking isn't nice.

Q: But you stalk people.

Runaan: *dramatic eyebrows* And it isn't nice.

Next Q: Has Ethari ever gotten hurt, and what did you do?

Runaan: *crushes water bottle*

Host: Okay another question then!

his answers would be really short if he did not feel comfy interacting, which is probably most of the time

Rayla took away Runaan's bowblade before the panel started

Runaan: but that's my emotional comfort trick weapon

Rayla: No. Ethari's Panel Rule #1. No stabbing or shooting people.

they pass a weapons display in the artist alley and someone made a replica of the Bloodborne bowblade and Runaan’s like, hm that looks familiar

Runaan wandering the con and talking to all the cosplayers with cool looking weaponry tho

he takes pics for Ethari

Runaan wandering the con and asking Runaan cosplayers, "So who are you supposed to be?" bc he genuinely doesn't know

he doesn't think he should be in the pictures for security reasons but he takes pix of Rayla posing with everyone dressed as Runaan

social media gets flooded with pix of his hair from the back though

#itssosoft trends on Twitter

Rayla sets up a pic where half a dozen happy fans get to brush Runaan's hair at the same time, and he's stuffing his face with moonberry surprise so he doesn't get nervous

it actually makes him look happy and social and Ethari is like HOW, HOW DID YOU MANAGE THIS, MAGIC

people shyly approach him and ask if he and Ethari can adopt them and he says yes

he ends up in a coffee shop zone with a couple dozen people gathered around and tells them the importance of found family in Moonshadow culture and he doesn't understand why they're all crying

Rayla teasing Runaan and telling him to tell a pirate story

Runaan is like, "Spoilers for Season 5"

some superfan nerd like mun tries to get him to admit how much he knows about Xadia and history and the show's plot, and he does that one line that all stabby people say. "I could tell you. But then I'd have to kill you."

he gets half a dozen volunteers and he is so concerned

Runaan, Protector of Secrets

Soren starts to spill about 14% of a secret and from across the entire con hall a green fletched arrow just zips by

Soren is like "You know what, never mind"

Cracky: Viren runs through the room looking for protection, and Runaan is like ugh fine who's after you this time, and Viren's all, "No one, my children are just being so silly and I just need a break for five minutes, can we please have a grownup conversation about something serious and angsty, please I’m actually begging you"

Runaan spots the adoraburr on Viren's ear and he's like, "Adoraburrs get lonely if they're alone," and he puts another one on Viren's other ear

and then a bunch more so they stack like a hairband and they're happier

Runaan just smirks and walks away

the adoraburrs start squeaking to each other and Viren is like, "Ugh, I preferred my children's terrible puns" and the adoraburrs get huffy and all hop down and abandon him

he does not in fact get adorapox because Viren believes in inoculation

some attendees would try to convince Runaan to "seek asylum" in NY and not return to Xadia or something, and he'd be like "But. Ethari."

they remind him that if he goes back he has to wait in a coin, and he doesn't get it

"Wdym. Ethari is there. Not here. I have to be there."

"BUT. COIN."

"BUT. ETHARI."

Rayla's like, I ain't Naruto running all the way back

She clicks a car fob and there's a *boop boop* noise

and this hovering coin like Tenser's Floating Disk shows up and they hop onto it and surf into the distance

Rayla shouts "SPOILERS FOR SEASON FOUR I KNOW WHO DIES AND IT’S-"

and Runaan is like "RAYLA DON'T MAKE ME HAVE TO SHOOT YOU, I COULDN'T DO IT LAST TIME AND I CAN'T DO IT NOW, DON'T GET ME IN TROUBLE I SWEAR TO THE M-"

talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular, everyone hopes they come back next year too

[pradaksj]

ghostin || part 2 (finale). (m.)

all rights reserved © pradaksj

↳do not repost, translate, or claim as your own.

❧ summary ⟶  ❝Though I wish he were here instead. Don't want that living in your head, he just comes to visit me when I'm dreaming every now and then. ❞

❧ pairing⟶ seokjin/reader

❧ genre⟶  angst, angst, and angst … did i say angst? + a bit of fluff? friends to lovers.

❧ word count ⟶ 18,000+

❧ warnings ⟶ major character death! sad ending. descriptions of grieving process.

❧ part of the  ⟶ thank u, next series

part 1 || part 2 (final)

“H-He did the right thing,” Jimin stutters, and you were sure he hardly even believed what was coming out of his own mouth,“What he did was selfless,”he declares.

“No he broke my grandma’s heart!” Jia scowls at Jimin, “What a jerk…” she huffs, having been fully engrossed in your story.

“No he’s right,” you say, shocking Jia, “It was an act of complete selflessness and in a sense, I applaud him for being able to do it because God knows I wouldn’t have been able to,” you sigh, “But ask yourself Jimin, in a week from now would you regret it?”

He looks as if he’s about to nod his no, until you add to your question, “How about a year? Maybe two? What about three? Just how sure are you about it?”

He remains silent.

“Tell you what Jimin,” you pause, “Only if you’re one hundred percent sure that you’d have absolutely no and I mean zero regrets about your decision then go ahead and leave,” you say, and he looks at you in a confusing manner, “You heard me, you can get up and leave right now, but,” you add emphasis to the word, “if you have even the slightest bit of a doubt, then all I ask of you is to hear this story till its end.”

Jimin, who by now had grabbed his jacket from the table in preparation to leave, now hesitated. Before you went up to him, he was so sure he wouldn’t regret it… but now after hearing a part of this story of yours… that confidence was long gone. Because if history truly was repeating itself, then he wanted to know the ending to this tale.

And so remaining in his seat, a look of determination covered his face.

“Okay then,” you mutter, ready to continue.

“That night I had cried in that diner for what felt like hours. It wasn’t until the waitress had to tell me that they’d be closing soon that I remembered I was far from Seoul, and so instead I went to my parents’ house and spent the night crying in my mom’s arms. I didn’t tell her right away, but I knew that she had known. Because honestly why else would I cry that hard.

Still though, I kept my mouth shut about it for the week that I slept over there, thinking deep down in my heart that he’d come back and tell me it was all a big mistake. Because if he did, I would’ve forgiven him. Maybe give him the silent treatment for a bit, hell even make him beg a bit, but I would’ve still forgiven him nonetheless.

When I went back to Seoul, I stayed in the same apartment. I paid the same expensive rent despite there only being one person living in there now. I stayed there because every afternoon I’d come back from work with a tiny feeling of hope that when I’d walk in, I’d find him in the kitchen like I always did after work, eating God knows what.

Sadly it never happened....

In the beginning I’d have no problem visiting my parents in their home, that continuous hopeful side in me thinking I’d be able to magically see Jin at his parent’s house. 

In reality the only person I’d occasionally see was his mother, who greeted me the same way she always did, acting as if nothing happened. I’m sure Seokjin must’ve told her through a phone call, but yet like the amazing person she was, she never asked me any questions about it. Never uttered his name around me, instead asking about trivial things like my career and such.

With no update on where Seokjin was, or what he was doing, it was only a matter of time in which I’d realize that things just weren't going to play out like how I imagined them to. The charming prince in my story had truly left.  

Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months, and soon months turned into years. I stopped visiting my parents house as much, and ultimately began to ask them if they could come out to Seoul to visit me rather than the other way around. As going home only served as a reminder for me of what I had lost. No… of what had left me.

And so after about two years of being single, I finally began to date people for the first time in my life, until soon enough I met someone by the name of Seojun. Though it wasn’t exactly love at first sight, it was definitely my first serious relationship since my break up with Seokjin, and slowly I really did fall in love.  

I had successfully forgotten about Seokjin.

At least I thought I did ….

I guess this brings us to where our story begins to end….

1999. 

“My loneliness is killing me,” you whisk the batter of the cake you were making, “and iiiii,” the shiny ring placed on your left ring finger shines even under the kitchen light, “I must confess I still believe,” you pause for a moment, “I still believe,” you horribly sing the ad-lib to Britney Spears’ chart topper of a song, “...Baby One More Time”.

Out of nowhere, the music on the radio is turned down, “I think that’s enough whisking y/n,” your mom chuckles, “any more and you’ll over mix it.” 

Sighing, you follow your mom’s orders.

Today was Christmas, and like every other year, you were spending it at home with your parents. Your fiancé, Seojun, who was out of town to celebrate the holiday with his family as well, would arrive in two days. It was the best compromise the two of you could make, with the agreement that the roles would be reversed for the following year.

Taking out the baked bread she had put in an hour earlier, she immediately sets it down on the cooling rack placed on the table, “You’re going to have to take these to Mrs. Kim right now,” she mentions, while cutting the bread into slices.

Silently, you nod, ignoring the drop in your stomach that you’d feel whenever you had to interact with anything that forced you to remember him. 

Despite you successfully managing to forget about him in terms of your daily life, Kim Seokjin just wasn’t someone you could ever completely forget. No matter how much you wanted to.

Wrapping parchment paper around the pieces, you help your mom tie the cute little pieces of red string around it, her belief of presentation adding to the flavor still ringing true to this day.

She inspects them one more time before placing them into the woven basket decorated with many other Christmas like things, along with the two gifts she bought for the twins, “Make sure you remind her about coming over tomorrow with the kids.”

Nodding, you place your coat on and begin to make your way out, “And tell her I said Merry Christmas!”

Making a motion with your hand that you heard her well, you close the door before she can add anything else.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Ah y/n,” Mrs. Kim greets, pulling you in for a hug, “Merry Christmas,” she says.

“Merry Christmas Mrs. Kim,” you smile at her, handing her the basket.

“Come in, come in,” she insists, and reluctantly you do, “I swear everytime I see you it feels like I’m only getting older,” she chuckles, “You don’t want something to drink? Maybe some wine—”

Laughing at her enthusiasm, you say “It’s fine Mrs. Kim,” while looking around the place. She had done an amazing job at decorating this year, not like she never did, “Where’s Mr. Kim?” you ask in curiosity.

“Ah he’s not coming till later, had some paperwork he wanted to finish up at work,” she explains, and you nod in understanding.

“Merry Christmas!” two voices simultaneously yell, and immediately you're met with a giant hug from the two twins.

Eyes widening at how big they had gotten, a smile covers your face, “Now I’m the one who feels like I’m getting old,” you comment, resulting in Mrs. Kim to laugh. 

The two, who had to be at least 13 years old by now, were definitely going through the phases of puberty by now.

Ruffling their hair, you recall how baby-faced they once were, only imagining how different they’d look in a couple years time. 

Minjun, who now sported braces, was the first to speak, “Woah, it feels like we haven’t seen you in forever!”

Yeonha adds on, “Yeah! You’ve gotten so….” she stops herself from continuing, but you know what she wants to say.

“Old,” you finish for her, pretending to be angry by placing your hands on your hips.  

She awkwardly laughs, scratching her neck, a habit she must’ve picked up from her older brother, “Of course not!” she tries to play it off.

“I’m only 25, turning 26 in a couple of weeks if you really wanna be specific, but that doesn’t make me old little lady!” you scold.

She raises her hands to her defense, while Minjun comes to her rescue, “I think the word she was looking for was mature,” he says, “I mean you’re dressed like those office ladies we see on TV,” and you’re unsure if the comparison was supposed to be a good or bad thing, but nevertheless you change the topic, not wanting to fluster them any more than they already were.

“So any gifts you two are wanting this year?” and immediately Yeonha’s face lights up at the question.

Eagerly she nods her head, “I think Santa,” she sends her mom a mischievous look, “is getting me a new beeper this Christmas,” 

Mrs. Kim playfully rolls her eyes.

“Santa heard from a little birdy that your old beeper wasn’t stolen, but got dropped in water,” Mrs. Kim comments, and immediately Yeonha’s face pales.

She turns to her twin brother and smacks him in shoulder, “Hey!” he yelps, “it wasn’t me!” he scowls, “It was probably Jin,” and even by a single utter of his name, you feel your heart begin to race, “I swear, it’s like you purposely forget what you tell him on the phone sometimes,” Minjun continues to ramble on, clearly upset by the accusation of being the snitch.

“I think I should get going,” you suddenly interrupt.

“Oh but you just got here,” Mrs. Kim says, failing to notice why you were suddenly feeling uncomfortable.

“Yeah!” Yeonha adds for support, “Jin’s supposed to get here any second now,” she wiggles her brows, even after all these years, still clearly unaware of the circumstances for your breakup.

Mrs. Kim looks surprised at Yeonha’s sudden announcement, “He was supposed to get here at 8,” she mumbles, a wave of guilt washing over her.

You send her a sympathetic look, knowing that it wasn’t her intention to put you in an uncomfortable position, “I’ll see you all soon, I promise,” you say, and Mrs. Kim now barely notices the ring on your finger. A subtle gasp escaping from her lips.

With your hand on the handle, you begin to open the door, “And Merry Christm—”

Stomach dropping at the sight in front of you, you feel as if a semi-truck had hit you, rendering you at a loss for words, “Y-Y/N?”

The first thing you notice about him is the length of his hair. It seemed as if he had grown it back into the mullet he first had when you met him, only this time it suited the mature aura he seemed to have. 

Dressed in a black turtleneck, matched with black pants and dress shoes, you weren’t sure if you were in shock because he was right in front of you for the first time in nearly 3 years or because of how easy it was for him to get your heart racing.

It was weird really, despite his change in appearance, for some reason even now you were sure that he was still the same old Seokjin you’d always known.

Noting that you’d been staring at him in silence for quite a while, you finally manage to spew something out, “S-Seokjin,” is all you manage to stutter under your breath.

The twins share a troublesome look to one another, “Come on you two, Mom made Pajeon,” Yeonha says, pulling the two of you by your respective hands and forcing you both inside, “We can all eat and catch up,” she smiles wide and big, “I’m sure you two would love that,” she winks.

“I d-don’t,” you attempt to say something, but too flustered for your own good, you remain in shock. 

Glancing at Mrs. Kim, you notice the contemplative look on her face, as if she was debating with herself in terms of what to do.

Making up her mind, she announces, “I’ll get the plates ready,” much to your dread. 

Awkwardly, the two of you are seated across from another, the tension in the room only building as you wait for the food.

“Soooo……” Yeonha breaks the silence that fills the room, “What have you two been up to?” she glances at the two of you, waiting for a response.

Feeling a knot in your stomach, you continue to remain silent. 

It also didn’t help that Seokjin’s gaze had remained on you this whole time. It was as if he was studying you, analyzing you the same way you had done to him. He wanted to see if you had changed.

Feigning a cough, he ultimately speaks. “Shouldn’t you already know Yeonha,” he questions her, “unless you haven’t been listening whenever we talk on the phone…”

Her face reddens, “Of course I have! You just went to Taiwan recently to consult for some business company and do those boring analyses you always do.”

He shakes his head, “Then there’s your answer,” he simply states.

“Business? So he really did end up giving up on his dream ….” you think to yourself, a bit saddened at the fact. A part of you always assumed that Jin had left you to be well on his way to stardom, that when he left you that night, he truly was being the selfish person he claimed he wanted to be.

“Y/N? …” the sound of your name being repeated brings you back to reality.

For a moment you look confused, “I said what about you?” and for the first time since your breakup, both you and Jin make eye contact, easily taking your breath away.

Face reddening, you take a while to respond, “I um—” flustering with your words , you continue, “I’m um— the head writer at the same company I worked at years ago,” you force an awkward smile on your face.

“Oh…” Jin says, “Do you like it over there?” and the question brings you back to that first car ride to the diner when you had just moved to town. His delivery of the question still as blunt as before.

“Um yeah …” you reply, fidgeting with your fingers.

He genuinely smiles, “I’m glad,” he says, “really I am,” he adds for extra comfort.

And before you could say thank you, his mother enters the dining room, the plate of Pajeon in her hand, along with other side dishes, “Here you kids go,” she places the things on the table, “Make sure you eat it while it’s hot,” she warns before making her way back into the kitchen.

It’s only until you grab the piece of Pajeon with your chopsticks that he finally notices it.

He finally notices the shiny diamond ring you sport on your left index finger.

“You’re engaged,” he suddenly announces says , face unreadable.

As if the room wasn’t awkward enough….

Gulping, you nod, “Yeah,” you exhale, “it happened a couple of months ago,” you add.

The two of you stare at each other in silence, “I’m happy for you,” he gives you a small smile. Silently patting his mouth with a napkin, he gets up from his seat, “Well I just came back from a pretty long flight so I’m pretty tired, so I think I’m gonna head upstairs,” he avoids eye contact for a moment, a sign that he was lying, “Jet lag you know?” he awkwardly laughs, “But it was nice seeing you y/n…”

Getting up as well, you decide that it was best you left as well.

“Merry Christmas y/n,” he says one final time before heading up stairs.

“Merry Christmas to you too Seokjin,” you whisper under your breath.

“Since our breakup three years before, Seokjin had never once gone back home for Christmas, which was why I felt so sure that he wouldn’t that year, but of course I was wrong. So when I told my mom she immediately began to panic for me, remembering that she invited Mrs. Kim to come over the next day, and well of course she didn’t want to be rude and rescind her invitation.

And so I told my mom that it was fine. Whether Seokjin decided he wanted to come over or not, I’d be just fine. At least that’s what I tried convincing myself of…”

“Seokjin, we’re going to be headed our way now,” Mrs. Kim yells over the blasting music. God, did Jin feel like a teenager again. “If you change your mind well … we’ll be right next door!”

He hears her footsteps going down the stairs, signalling that she was gone.

Engaged …. You were really engaged ….

The image of the ring on your finger was the only thing that remained in his mind the night before, and it was what was haunting him even now. 

He wasn’t sure what came over him, you were happy, you had found love in someone else just like he’d hoped for years ago. 

He should’ve been ecstatic for you … but he wasn’t.

Several questions pondered in his mind once he saw it. Who was the guy? How did you meet? When were you sure you loved him? Was he treating you better than he ever did? Could he give you the future you always wanted? Just how happy were you?

Sighing, he gets up from bed, not wanting to sulk for any longer. 

He had to do something, anything, for the meanwhile that he was back home to get his mind off of this. And so grabbing his jacket, he prepares to leave, unsure of just how long he could be in the same proximity as you without doing something he’d regret.

The sounds of crickets chirping fills the air, a wine glass in your hand as you look at the stars above in the sky from the comfort of your front porch.

Inside, your parents were talking about the most mundane of things with Jin’s parents, while the kids were busy preoccupying themselves playing with their newly gifted Nintendo 64. And after getting tired of constantly losing to them, here you were, taking a break from the chaos going on inside.

Seojun was arriving tomorrow, from there you’d only be here for the remainder of the weekend and then back home to your apartment in Seoul, as if nothing ever happened. Ever since yesterday, something was eating at you. You just weren’t sure what. And the only thing you could look at to ease your anxiousness was the ring on your finger, a solid reminder that you had a future to look forward to and that the past was buried six feet under.

Taking a gulp of the drink in your hand, you mentally curse Jin. Why did he have to return? Out of all years, this had to be the one he chose to magically come back in? “Damn you Seok—”

“Y/N?” you look up to see the person you were just damning, car keys in hand. It looked as if he was originally planning on going somewhere, but must’ve walked over here once he saw you sitting here by yourself.

“Seokjin,” you say, a mixture of both shock and displeasure evident in your voice.

Relief washes over him when hearing your response because unbeknownst to you, from afar you looked as if you were completely knocked out, a result of the position you were in while you were deeply thinking. Immediately he eyes the wine glass in front of you, everything beginning to make sense.

“You looked um—” shaking his head, he disregards what he was going to say, “Sorry I’ll just get going.”

And maybe it was the wine talking, but rather than keep quiet and watch him leave, you call out to him, “You can—” you hesitate to continue, “You can sit here if you want,” you say, “that’s only if you want to of course, I’m not forcing you to do anything you don’t want to because I’m not exactly physically capable of doing that and—”

Jin interrupts your tipsy rambling by sitting at an appropriate distance from you, a soft chuckle escaping from his lips, “You always did like getting drunk off wine,” he whispers under his breath, a small smile on his lips.

For a while, the two of you remain in silence, simply staring at the view above. That was of course until you asked him a simple question, “Where were you going?” you mumble.

Bringing his attention towards you, his eyes soften, “Just wanted some fresh air,” he simply answers, being completely truthful.

Silently you nod, “Mm that’s good,” you say, your cheeks a soft tinge of red because of the wine.

“So…”

“So…” you mimic him, causing him to playfully roll his eyes.

“How have you been?” he attempts to break the ice, “I realized I didn’t really ask you that yesterday…”

It was funny really, the two of you truly had become strangers in a sense, just like how he said you two would be that night. But in a way, it also made things more interesting, it was as if he was getting the chance to know you for the second time in his life.

“I’ve been..” you hesitate to find the right word, ultimately deciding on the simplest one you knew, “I’ve been good,” you say, “I’m doing something I love, have an apartment I completely adore, and I found someone—” you stop yourself from continuing.

“You found someone you love?” he says for you, and silently you nod, remaining silent for a moment.

“Why did you—” you pause before continuing, “Why did you become a businessman?” you ask, the question having been on your mind since the day before.

Casually, he shrugs, “There was no future in the world of entertainment for me y/n,” he states, “so I went back to college, worked my ass off, and got a degree in financial accounting. From there the job offers came pretty easily and now I’m a traveling business analyst.”

“Did you do it because of your da—”

He’s quick to nod his head no, “I did it for—,” and at the last second he changes what he was originally going to say, “I did it for myself,” and you feel yourself getting angry.

“But it wasn’t what you dreamed of, it wasn’t something you loved!” you unintentionally shout.

“Hey hey hey,” he places a hand on your shoulder, “any louder and the whole neighborhood will hear you,” he attempts to joke around, and you feel your face get redder than it already was.

Letting go of your shoulder, he looks back up to the stars, his voice becoming soft, “The night I told you about wanting to seriously pursue becoming a director, you told me that if I failed, the real question would be if I’d be able to accept it…” your gaze falls on him while he continues to look up into the sky, “At first I wasn’t able to… I was too ashamed to admit to failure, but—” he smiles, “when I finally did, it almost felt liberating. And so I realized sometimes you have to give up the things you love, for a better shot at a future.”

Bullshit.

Complete bullshit.

That’s what you want to say to him.

And so you do.

“That’s complete utter bullshit Seokjin,” you mutter, taking a sip of your drink, “because if it isn’t then that makes you a selfish person, and you’re the farthest thing from selfish. So that’s just bullshit and you know it.”

He laughs, “It is, isn't it?”

Not expecting him to agree, you look at him in shock before grouchily looking away, focusing your gaze on anything but him.

Failing to hear the brief sharp hissing sound of his zipper being pulled down, you suddenly feel the placement of his sweater over your shoulders. You furrow your brows in confusion, “You’re shivering like a chihuahua,” he explains, scratching his neck like he always did whenever he was nervous.

Crossing your arms, you attempt to hide your face which you were sure by now was as red as a tomato. What the hell were you doing? Sitting here talking to your ex boyfriend of 6 years while your fianceé was probably well on his way here… it was wrong, it was inappropriate. So then if you knew that then why did it feel so … you brush the thought off before you could complete it.

“Because he was your friend first and as much as you hate to admit it,  he'll always mean something to you…” you tell yourself, feeling guilty at the thought.

“Y/N?” he says your name, bringing you back to reality.

You look at him, wondering why he said your name out of the blue.

“Do you—” it was now his turn to hesitate, “Do you hate me?” he finally asks, and immediately your mind says no. You could never hate him, even if you wanted to.

He stares at you, anxiously waiting for a response.

“No I don’t.” you simply say, not bothering to elaborate any further, but for Jin that was enough. It was enough to tell him that you still …

“Seojun…” you whisper under your breath, a car pulling into the driveway of your house, a look of surprise on your face. Immediately you push off the jacket from your shoulders, catching Seokjin by surprise.

“So this is who he is…” Jin thinks to himself, watching the handsome man come out of the car, a grin on his face as he locks eyes with you.

Walking towards him, Jin watches as you lovingly greet the man with a kiss to the cheek, the two of you then walking towards him. “Seojun this is Seokjin, his parents are the neighbors,” Seojun offers his hand out, a polite smile on his face, “Seokjin this is Seojun, my fianceé,” the two shake hands. Your past and present finally meeting.

“Seokjin which means to be a great treasure,” Seojun attempts to make small conversation.

“He’s a linguist,” you explain, awkwardly chuckling, noting the fake smile on Seokjin’s face.

“Mm I see,” he mumbles, bitterness in his voice.

“I thought you weren’t coming till tomorrow?” you ask your fianceé, still surprised by his sudden appearance.

He shrugs, “What can I say, I got bored,” he laughs, “So I said my goodbyes early, and decided why not come here to surprise you,” he kisses your forehead, and Jin feels the green eyed monster making its way out.

“Well I should get going,” Jin states.

“You sure?” you widen your eyes at Seojun’s sudden question, “I mean I love your dad y/n but it’d be nice to have someone else to talk to,” he chuckles, “and well I definitely wanna hear about what y/n was like as a teenager from someone who isn’t one of her parents.”

You and Jin both make awkward eye contact, unsure of what to say. “Maybe some other time,” Jin manages to say, “I have to um…” he flusters, “um..”

“Finish typing up that business report you were talking about,” you make an excuse for him.

He snaps his fingers, pretending that that was what he was trying to say, “Mmhmm yeah!” he scratches his neck, “My job just doesn’t want me resting, not even for the holidays, you know how it is...” he adds on, coming for the Actor of the Year award at next year's Oscars.

Seojun surprisingly believes it, “Damn, that’s too bad,” he scratches his chin, a sign that he was thinking of something, “Well are you coming to our engagement party? Maybe we can talk then,” he says, and if your eyes weren’t already wide enough, by now they were well on their way to falling onto the floor. Seojun was just too kind for his own good.

Jin practically chokes on his own spit, “I um—”

Realizing that you probably forgot to invite him, Seojun interrupts before Jin could feel any more embarrassed, “January 12, at the Lotte Hotel in Seoul, 6PM sharp.”

Feeling his face get red, Seokjin nods, “Yeah I’ll be there,” he forces a laugh.

Patting his shoulder, Seojun smiles, “I look forward to talking to you then,” he says, beginning to make his way inside, with you following closely behind, a guilt-ridden look on your face.

Now by himself, Jin silently cursed to himself. Damn him! Seojun wasn’t at all the asshole Seokjin made him out to be in his head. But damn did he want him to be one…. then it’d be much easier to hate the man, and it’d make him much less guilty for what he was planning to do….

“After that night, I’d go to sleep scared. Not because I was in danger in anything, but because I was scared about the feelings I’d repressed for so long now starting to return. I was scared of looking back…”

Patting down your black fitted cocktail dress, you look at yourself in the mirror for a final time, “Everything is going to be just fine,” you whisper to yourself, having cooped yourself in the ladies restroom for quite some time now. 

You couldn’t help it, the moment you saw the twins walk in with Jin’s mother, you knew it was only a matter of time before Jin walked in.

Ever since that Christmas weekend, his sudden return into your life had been eating you alive. You had gotten over him, you were sure of it. No … you are over him. Point. Blank.

This ring you wore on your finger signified that you were over him, that there was a different future to look forward to now. That whatever was meant to be in the past was no longer an option for you now. Right?

The door suddenly opens, “Y/N, there you are!” your mom comes in with an upset look on her face, “the host of the party can’t just disappear whenever she wants to,” she scolds.

Staring at her with a doe eyed look, you want to tell her everything. Everything that you were currently feeling, every question, every doubt that was crossing your mind since Jin’s return. But instead you just look away, making your way out.

“Taiwan huh? I’ve always wanted to visit there,” you hear your future brother-in-law, Hoseok, say. 

He, along with Seojun, Seokjin, and some other guests were currently discussing God knows what in a social circle.

“Y/N,” Seojun calls out to you, a grin on his face.

Immediately you make eye contact with Jin, feeling your every movement being scrutinized under his gaze. 

Sucking it up, you plaster a smile onto your face, reminding yourself that in a couple of hours you’d be in bed, with the only other times you’d have to see Jin being your rehearsal dinner, which was the night before the wedding, and the wedding day itself. And even then he would just have to be another face in the crowd of guests.

Seojun places a kiss to your cheek, “Jin was just talking about his adventures in Taiwan, I’m thinking it might be a good destination for our honeymoon,” he says with genuine excitement in his tone. Oh how naive he was…

“Oh…” is all you can say, struggling to keep the smile on your face, “um yeah, I guess that would be a nice place to go, wouldn’t it?” you attempt to stay engaged with the conversation, and it seemed as if it was enough to fool Seojun because soon he was talking about something else with another guest. 

But clearly it wasn’t enough to fool Jin, as he currently had his gaze fixed on you, occasionally taking a sip out of the glass of whiskey in his hand.

“I think I’m gonna go out and get a breath of fresh air,” you whisper to Seojun’s ear, and silently he nods, distracted by the conversation he was currently having.

Going out, you make sure not to be seen by your mother, knowing that she’d only scold you again for trying to leave. And so like the cowardly person you were, all you could do was hide and wait in the hotel’s little garden, sitting on the stone bench, the smell of the flowers somewhat relaxing you. 

God, did you just want this night to be over already…

“You shouldn’t have come here,” you suddenly say, feeling the presence of someone behind you, but you knew exactly who it was.

“You looked sad,” you hear Jin say, genuine concern in his voice.

You remain silent.

Sighing, he sits next to you, the moonlight framing his face in such a way that he almost looks ethereal. “Originally I wasn’t going to,” he says, understanding the double meaning to your words, for you meant that he shouldn’t have came to this event at all, “But I needed to see it with my own eyes, confirm that it wasn’t just some—”

“What? Some joke?” you scoff, “Some wretched attempt at getting over you…”

Now it was his turn to remain silent.

You shake your head, “3 years Seokjin,” you say, “3 years you were gone and you just had to come back the year I get engaged,” you bitterly chuckle, wishing you had a drink in your hand, “funny how life works huh?”

Silently he nods, agreeing with you, “I guess it was just a natural sense,” he attempts to joke around, but you remain silent, “I’m sorry,” he randomly says and you look at him confused, “For coming back,” he elaborates on the apology, “if I’d known beforehand I wouldn’t have come back to town for both of our sakes,” he chuckles, being completely honest.

“Hand me that,” you motion to the drink in his hand, and without question he does. Taking a giant gulp, you then finally say something, “I’m getting married in 6 months Seokjin,” you remind him of your future fate, “it was going to happen before you came back, and it’s happening even after,” you turn to face him, wanting to make sure he understood that at this very moment you were placing a line between you two, one that you hoped was unbreakable.

He returns to stare, “I know y/n,” he simply responds.

“Do you?” your face twists into a frown, “Because I know you Seokjin and something in my gut is telling me that—”

“Y/N I know,” he repeats, “but just answer one thing for me…” he pauses, contemplating on whether to continue but does so anyway, “Do you really love him?”

And just as you’re about to respond, he interrupts, “But I mean genuinely y/n, enough where you really can picture the rest of your life with him with absolutely no regrets, no what if’s…” he adds.

Could you? You ask yourself. Could you really imagine being with Seojun with no regrets…..

To Jin, your silence was enough of an answer, but before he could get a word in, a voice suddenly interrupts, “Y/N!” Seojun calls out, “There you are,” he exhales a relieved sigh, “We’re about to cut the cake,” he glances at Jin, nodding as a way of saying hello.

“Oh right ...” you get up from the bench, a black cloud hanging over your head, “I’ll see you at the wedding Seokjin,” you look at Jin a final time, the statement ultimately acting as your answer.

“The six months went by in the blink of an eye, but each and every night when I went to bed, it ate me alive. 

The lies I was telling my fianceé, the lies I was telling myself, everything was just becoming too much. 

And as the date loomed closer and closer, it was only getting worse. And so the night before the rehearsal dinner I finally came clean…”

Staring up at the ceiling of your bedroom, you’d become accustomed to the sleepless nights for the last six months, faint lines beginning to form under your eyes. 

In less than 48 hours you’d be a married woman, welcoming a future you’d always wanted. So then why was it now, you still couldn’t get a wink of sleep.

“Wedding jitters?” you hear Seojun whisper beside you, and you find yourself shocked that he was still awake. Usually he was quick to fall asleep, a deep sleeper as well, so to find him awake was pretty unusual.

You remain silent, hoping he’d just fall asleep, but like the caring person he was, he softly nudges you despite knowing that you were ignoring him, “Seojun, go to sleep, it’s late,” you mumble in the darkness, reminding you of a memory from long ago.

“Something’s bothering you,” he says, now turning to face you, and he nudges you a second time, “You know you can tell me anything…” he adds, wanting to reassure you.

This was your chance, your chance to tell him everything before it was too late. It was speak now or forever hold your peace, and so sighing, you position yourself to sit up, turning on the bedside lamp.

“Seojun I haven’t been completely honest with you…” you announce, now avoiding eye contact. “And well you deserve to know the truth because you’re an amazing person who deserves nothing but the bes—”

“Y/N,” he interrupts you, a soft laugh emitting from his lips, “I know Seokjin is your ex, and I know he still loves you,” he drops the bombshell of news on you, and you could’ve sworn you felt your jaw hit the floor.

“W-wait w-w-what?” you manage to breathe out, and it only makes him laugh again.

He now sits up, nodding his head, “I knew the moment you introduced his parents as the neighbors rather than calling him an old friend,” he chuckles, “you were trying to make it seem a little too platonic,” your face squirms, “and well you’re not exactly the best liar,” he pauses, “Plus your mom isn’t exactly a quiet speaker so when I heard her rambling to your dad about the situation, I sorta just knew.”

“T-then why didn’t you call me out on it?” you immediately ask, but before he could respond, you continue to ramble, “God, I’m so sorry Seojun,” tears well up in your eyes, “I love you, I really do,” you say, completely truthful, “but I-I-I—” you struggle to continue.

“But you also love him,” he completes for you, a look of understanding on his face.

Immediately you nod your head no, “No I don’t it’s just—”

“Y/N it’s fine,” he says, grabbing your hand, but you still refuse to admit it.

“No Seojun, you don’t get it. I love you, I do, more than you ever know and I’m ready to start our future together but—” you look away, “as much as I hate to admit it I’m always going to feel something for him because he was my first love,” you whisper the last part, “but you’re my last,” you reaffirm.

Seojun smiles sadly before sighing, “I know, which is why I sorta just let it be that night at the engagement party because well... I figured that if you were able to make it to the aisle without turning back it meant that you truly did love me,” he pauses, “Because even now you have the choice to turn back y/n, you do understand that right? I won’t be mad, I won’t be too sad, and I won’t hate you for it because I understand,” he says and you feel a teardrop fall from your eye, “that night I overheard him ask you if you really loved me and though you didn’t immediately say yes, you also didn’t flat out say no. And so it seems you’re at a crossroad… ” he whispers.

“Seojun…” 

He squeezes your hand, “When you step on that aisle then I’ll have no doubt that you’ve completely unregrettably chosen me,” he says, “and if you don’t then I’ll know you were just never meant to be mine,” he smiles softly.

A silence follows.

“Tomorrow he’s going to the rehearsal dinner, and I’m assuming it’ll act as his hail mary. His final attempt at getting you back,” he suddenly says, “and so it’ll be your time to make a decision … a future with me or a look back at the past with Seokjin,” and he kisses your cheek, his way of saying goodnight before making himself comfortable in bed again, quickly falling asleep, and leaving you in the same sleepless state you were already in before.

He was right, knowing Seokjin tomorrow he was going to do something because you were 100% sure that he would never grow the balls to object to the matrimony in front of everyone. And so as the clock kept ticking, it was only up to you to decide your future.

“The next night came quicker than expected. After all of the guest greetings and pretentious conversations I had to make, it was time for the guests to make a toast. By then I had already made a decision in my mind, I just didn’t expect everything to happen the way it did….

For over the last 50 years I’ve constantly looked back at that night and have asked myself where it went wrong, what could’ve gone differently, what if this, and what if that… as it was never meant to escalate to the point it reached...

But it did … and as much I would love to go back in time and change everything, I can’t. And that’s just something I’ve had to accept, no matter how much it hurts…”

Clink. Clink. Clink.

You eye Jin as he gets up from his seat, his glass of sparkling water in his hand. 

You’d been avoiding him like the plague the whole night, just wanting to get to the wedding day as soon as possible.

You attempt to remain calm. 

He wouldn’t do it, not here in front of everyone. If he really cared for you like you believed him to, then he wouldn’t. 

You knew Jin, and he was the kind of person to pull you to the side or find you alone like at the night of the engagement party in order to tell you something. Never would he stoop so low to do something like this…

Feigning a cough, he speaks, “I want to make this as quick as possible, don’t want to take too much of everyone’s time,” Jin’s mother glances at yours, the two of them unsure of what was going on, “So where do I begin…” Seojun looks at you with an impassive expression, your conversation from the night before coming to fruition, “Ahh I know,” Jin snaps his fingers, “So for anyone who doesn’t know, I actually dated y/n first…”

“Seokjin,” his mother attempts to stop him by harshly whispering his name, but he relents.

“We dated for about 6 years actually, to a point where we sure that we’d spend the rest of our lives together,” he scoffs, “but then I ruined that by breaking up with her,” he reminds you and everyone else around you of the fateful night, “which I know is shitty of me to realize just now how much of a mistake it was. But I mean what are the chances that I come back the year you’re about to get engaged, I mean that has to mean something right?” he rambles, almost as if talking to himself, convincing himself that this was the right thing to do.

Everyone sits in shock of the words spewing out of his mouth, certain that this was only something that happened in movies, never imagining that it could actually happen in real life, “I’m only saying this now because I realize it’d be even more of a dick move of me to object in front of everyone,” he chuckles to himself, “And so I’m doing this now, in front of everyone y/n…” he locks eyes with you, “I’m sorry,” he whispers, “but this is our last chance, a final shot at the future you’ve always wanted... with me.”

The silence in the room was deafening.

Slowly you get up, a heavy feeling weighing down your chest as you clear your throat before speaking, “I know this is a lot to ask but if everyone can get up and momentarily leave the room, I’d really appreciate it,” you announce, “I’d like to talk to my friend privately for a moment,” you look down to Seojun who nods understandingly.

Without question, Seojun begins to lead everyone out, until ultimately it was only you and Seokjin standing by yourselves, a scene all too familiar to you. 

“Y/N…” he begins, but you’re quick to cut him off, your hand placed on your temple.

“Why?” your voice breaks, any emotion you’d been withholding beginning to unravel, “Just why?” is all you’re able to ask.

“Because you don’t love him y/n,” he whispers loud enough for you to hear, and it’s at hearing that, that you feel a shift in mood.

“But I do Seokjin!” you yell, seeing nothing but red now.

Silence momentarily lingers in the air, until you scoff.

“What were you thinking, Seokjin? That you could just come back into my life and I’d welcome you back with open arms?” you ask, tears welling up in your eyes, threatening to fall with every word you got out.

He shakes his head, “No but—” he hesitates, walking closer to you, “what are the chances y/n? What are the chances I come back to town the year you’re getting married—”

“The only reason I’m getting married to someone else is because you left me!” you interrupt him, reminding him of the choice he made years ago.

He looks away, “You don’t get it y/n,” he mumbles under his breath, beginning to grow frustrated.

“What’s there not to get Seokjin?” you push at him, now yelling, “If I hadn’t gone looking for you that night, I would’ve been left with nothing but a goddamn note—”

“I was doing what was best for you!” he yells in return.

“For me?” your voice shakes, “Leaving me at a diner in the middle of the goddamn night with some poor excuse wasn’t the best for me! Leaving me to cry in bed, by myself, for almost 2 years straight wasn’t the best for me! Leaving me, not knowing where the hell you were for almost 3 years wasn’t the best for me!” you finally explode, years and years of anger now revealing itself.

“Everything I had felt, the sadness, the anger, the frustration, everything … was finally being released…”

“I begged for you that night Seokjin, begged!” you emphasize, the tears that had been building up, now falling hysterically.

“I was just trying to do what was best for you,” he says, completely and wholeheartedly honest, because it was true. At the time he really was doing it all for you, and you understood that now, truly you did.

“But I just couldn’t let it go… I was still hurt, and that hurt was what was holding me back. That hurt was what was preventing me from walking out the back door with him, ready to finally start that future with him I always wanted…”

“I didn’t need you to do anything for me!” you yell, “I was a grown woman Seokjin! Capable of making my own decisions, just like I am now!” your heartbeat slows down, “I gave you my heart that night Jin!” your voice cracks, not only feeling your heart break for the second time in your life, but all by the same person, “It was you who left me! Not me, you!”

“Because I didn’t want to hold you back y/n,” his voice breaks, “Because at the time I couldn’t give you the things you wanted.”

“And I told you I didn’t care!” you cry out, “Because for me all that mattered was being by your side…” a silence follows, “You were my first love Seokjin,” you breathe out, “the first boy to make me feel completely and unconditionally loved and so for that I thank you,” you say, “I really do…” you grab his hand, “but this—” you struggle to say the words.

“But this is the end,” a tear falls down from his eye, and you can only stare at him in sadness.

“I’m choosing Seojun, completely and unregrettably,” you whisper, placing a final soft kiss to his cheek, “I’m sorry,” I’m sorry for being unable to let go, is what you want to say.

“So then I should go,” he quietly says, and silently you nod, letting go of his hand in the process.

And he watches you as you walk away, “Y/N,” he says your name for a final time and you turn around, sadness still etched in your face. 

There’s a brief silence before he continues.

“Live—” he hesitates, “Live a life you’ll be proud of,” he reminds you, and to that you send him a small smile. A chapter in your life coming to its end.

“And so the next day was the wedding....” 

“How are you feeling y/n?” your mom comes up to you from behind, practically feeling just as nervous as you were.

You pat down your dress, sighing in the process. Ever since last night, there was a churning feeling in your stomach that had been bothering you, but you reasoned with yourself that it must’ve been due to the events of the night prior, “Nervous but I should be good to go,” you respond, and your mom gives you a smile of reassurance.

Curious to see how many guests had arrived already, you look out the window of the room you were in, which gave a perfect view of the venue. Scanning across, it seemed like everyone was here except… 

“Where’s Mrs. Kim?” you ask, “and the twins?”

After last night’s events, Mrs. Kim had gone up to you frantically apologizing for her son’s behavior, rambling about understanding if you didn’t want her at the wedding anymore, but you were quick to tell her that it was fine. That just because Jin did what he did, didn’t mean you didn’t want her attending. Which was why now seeing her seat empty along with the twins’, you were not only confused but a little hurt.

“Maybe they’re stuck in traffic,” she reasons, “they did leave quite late,” she adds.

Deciding it was best not to dwell on it too much, you push it to the back of your mind, “Let’s get this show on the road,” you ultimately say, ready to get married.

“You have to remember that in the early 2000’s, not everyone had mobile phones yet because of how expensive they were. People were still used to calling a house phone by memory and crossing their fingers that you’d pick up. You couldn’t just send a text message to absolutely anyone whenever something of importance happened…” you explain, your voice beginning to shake, “you couldn’t inform someone of an emergency until God knows when,” a tear falls from your eye, “Because if you could, then—” you let out a heart wrenching sob.

“Grandma?” Jia says in concern.

“Then I would’ve never gone through with that wedding…”

Seokjin was tired, no … he was exhausted. 

God, was he such an idiot. What the hell was he thinking doing that? You were right, did he really think he could just waltz back into your life and everything would just go back what it once was? And to see you cry like that only made him realize even more of what a complete selfish asshole he was.

But at least, you both found closure right? That was all that—

The sound of Seokjin’s car engine making an ugly noise breaks him away from his thoughts. Almost immediately, he pulls over to the side of the road, purposely stopping near a payphone for reference.

Grabbing the flashlight from his compartment box, he gets out of the car and lifts up the hood of the car.

“Hmm...” he hums, nothing seemed wrong. It was probably just his car’s way of saying that it needed to be replaced by a newer model soon. 

He smiles, tapping the hood once he placed it back down. He’s had this thing since his first year in college, it being by his side almost as long as you had been, if not more.

Yawning, he gets back in the car, the need to fall asleep becoming a little too overwhelming. Placing the key back in the keyhole, he turns it in order to turn on the ignition, but to his surprise the car refuses to start, “Come on LadyBug,” he says, the name of the car being something you and him both made up on a drunken whim, it sticking ever since.

Deciding to be stubborn tonight, LadyBug relents. 

Sighing he grabs his Nokia phone from the glove compartment, the giant words of “NO SIGNAL” only making him sigh more. He just wanted to go home and sleep already.

Getting out of the car once more, he walks towards the phone booth, inserts a quarter, and dials the number of his parent’s house phone. As much as he hated to ask for help, desperate times called for desperate measures, and his dad should be home.

“You have reached the voicemail box of 45x-7x8-87xx, please leave a message after the beep. Beeeeeep,” the automated voice instructs.

Seokjin groans, maybe his dad was asleep, “Hey dad, I’m sorta stranded out here with a car that doesn’t seem to want to start and well … I think Mom is still at the rehearsal dinner with the twins,” Seokjin begins to ramble, “She’s probably on her way back home, but you know her,” he chuckles, scratching his neck, “she still refuses to get a mobile phone so there’s really no way of calling her till she gets home,” despite his father not being on the line, he still felt awkward asking him for a favor, “I’m on interstate 6, you know … the usual route to get from Gwacheon to Seoul. Well, I’m gonna try calling someone else just in case you’re asleep… bye,” he hangs up the phone, disappointed that he was going to be stuck here longer than he hoped for.

Who else could he call, hmmm.

Ah! Yoongi! Hell maybe even Taehyung or Namjoon! Though it’d been a while since he last saw them, he was sure they’d be willing to do him the favor.

Quickly dialing their numbers one after another, he’s met with the same automated message of, “We’re sorry, you have reached a number that has been disconnected or is no longer in service. If you feel you have reached this recording in error, please check your number and try your call again.”

“Damn, they probably changed numbers,” Seokjin mumbles to himself, unsure of what to do.

Glancing at the time in his watch, he realizes just how late it was. Who else could he call….

The image of you appears in his mind, but he’s quick to shake his head no. He was the last person who could call to ask for a favor, but damn was your number the only number he had left in his memory. 

And it wasn’t like he could sleep in his car for the night, that was only an invitation to get robbed on the side of the road. 

He needed some kind of help, and quickly at that. And the chances that you were already home were pretty high, never being much of a partier to begin with.

“Fuck it,” he mutters, promising himself that this would be the last time he ever asked you for anything. He could only hope that you still lived in the same apartment….

“We should really start heading back home,” you whisper to Seojun’s ear, the rehearsal dinner having only awkwardly resumed about an hour or two ago. Things were barely beginning to get comfortable again among the guests, not like you could really blame them, they had just witnessed something that looked like it came out of a movie.

“Y/N,” he chuckles, “Have some fun,” he says, as this was probably your 10th time saying this in the last hour, “You deserve it,” he tries to convince you, your whole mood having gone sour since the whole mishap.

Sighing, you look away shyly, “I don’t know Seojun—”

“Come onnnn,” he teases, gently pulling you into a hug, “Just one more hour.”

You roll your eyes, “Hm fine,” you say, easily convinced, “but only one,” you reaffirm.

He nods, “only one.”

“Hello, we are currently either sleeping or—Jin I’m making the message for the voicemail thingy majiggy—” the sound of a high pitched laugh in the background is heard, and Jin remembers how he had been poking fun at you for using your “I mean business” voice, “as I was saying, we are currently either sleeping or at work! Sorry we couldn’t reach your call at this time, but please please please leave a message after the beep and we’ll make sure to get back to you as soon as we can! You ready? Beeeeeep!”

Jin laughs at how silly you sounded, surprised that you hadn’t changed the message in the last 3 years. It probably meant you had no reason to, considering it was pretty rare that you didn’t pick up a phone. 

Meaning maybe you weren’t picking up on purpose….

Jin shakes his head, reminding himself that he was calling on a payphone and that there was no way you could see it was him. It was just self doubt getting to him.

“Hey y/n it’s me um Seokjin,” he awkwardly laughs, “I know I don’t really deserve to be asking you for a favor right now, but um,” he exhales a deep breath, “I’m sorta stranded right now and well I tried calling everyone else I could think of at the top of my head, I swear, but no one picks up,” he wants to make sure you understand that you really were his last option, “I promise that after this it’ll be the last time you see or hear of me, but I’m just really tired and well I just wanna go home and sleep. So if you can, I’ll be on interstate 6 with LadyBug,” he chuckles, “Um …” he’s unsure of how to end the voicemail, “I’ll see you soon then… bye ….”

Sighing, he walks back to his car, deciding he was going to try one more time before officially giving up. Twisting the key, he could only cross his fingers that it’d start up.

Vrooom.

A toothy grin appears on Jin’s face as he childishly celebrates, “Oh thank God,” he whispers to himself, rubbing his eyes and preparing himself for the drive ahead.

“Y/N,” your mom calls out to you from the dance floor, a shock ridden expression on her face, “Y/N!” she yells again, this time grabbing your attention.

“What is it mom?” you ask, unaware of the severity of what she was about to tell you.

“We need to go outside, I—” she seems out of breath, “I need to tell you something,” her voice shakes, and an immediate concern covers your face.

“Right now?” you ask, confused as to what could be so important that she needed to tell you at this very moment, in the middle of your wedding reception.

Silently she nods, leading you outside, her hand intertwined with yours. Your dad, with a solemn expression on his face, follows not too far behind.

“Something’s happened y/n…” she begins, voice wavering, “It’s about Seokjin…”

Inaudible words are spoken. 

And soon you fall to the ground, the shock paralyzing you in such a way that you were sure this had to be some cruel nightmare, the sound of silent muffled sobs escaping your lips and filling the air. 

A tragic story coming to its end.

“He died that night driving,” you hauntingly say, “A car had swerved into the opposite lane, and he was just too tired,” your voice shakes, “He didn’t see it in time,” tears fall down your eyes, “He died that night thinking I didn’t love him when in reality I loved him more than ever before. I was just too prideful to admit it,” you wipe the tears from your cheeks.

Jimin and Jia were at a loss for words, shock running through their veins, their eyes wet with their own tears, “You-You’re lying…” Jimin’s voice breaks, unable to comprehend what you had just told them.

“His mom didn’t get the call from the police until she got home, and even then she immediately rushed to the hospital, clinging onto the tiny bit of hope that he’d be just fine,” you shake your head, lips quivering at the recollection of everything, “She told my mom the next by calling my dad’s travel phone, felt like as a close friend … I deserved to know.”

“Grandma…” Jia says weakly.

“I always ask myself what if I hadn’t agreed to stay that extra hour that night. What if I had gone home like I should’ve and heard that voicemail? Because if I had, I would’ve gone to go get him without even a second thought. But like I said, I’ve just had to accept that what happened happened, and there’s nothing I could do to change that.”

Seojun gently knocks on your bedroom door, dressed in an all black suit, “Y/N…” he softly says your name, “Today’s the funeral… you,” he pauses, “you have to get up…” his voice is gentle, but firm, “You—” he hesitates, “You have to go y/n, you have to say goodbye,” he whispers.

He hears you attempt to muffle your sobs, just like you had been for every night of the last month. But in a room full of utter silence, it was almost impossible not to hear you. 

“Y/N…” he slowly enters the dark room, heart breaking at the sight of you aimlessly staring at the ceiling. Sitting beside you, he begins to gently run his hand through your hair, an effort to comfort you.

But the heartfelt action only makes you sob harder, reminding you of the person you had lost, “I—” you barely croak the words out, “I just want to sleep,” you whisper, because you knew that it was only in your dreams that this wretched reality no longer existed. It was only in your dreams that he still… existed. It was the only time you were truly happy.

But by going to that funeral, it meant coming to face with the reality that everything was indeed real. That Kim Seokjin was truly dead.

“I know you do y/n…” he frowns, “but you have to say goodbye,” he repeats his words from earlier.

Goodbye. Goodbye. Goodbye.

Didn’t he understand? You didn’t want to say goodbye! You weren’t ready, and you weren’t sure if you were ever going to be.

“I don’t want to,” your voice cracks, face feeling moist because of how much you’d been crying.

“I-I know y/n but—” he’s unsure of what to say. What the hell could he say? You were mourning, you were heartbroken. The man you loved more than the world itself was dead, and there was nothing that could be done about it.

“I have to say goodbye,” you quietly mumble into space, the phrase echoing inside your mind, “I have to say goodbye,” you repeat for a final time, an empty look in your eyes.

The rain pours as you watch the casket get lowered, almost as if grieving itself.

There’s a haunting emptiness in the atmosphere, everyone still in too much shock and disbelief to believe that this was all real.

All you could do was blankly stare at what was in front of you, trying your best to tune out Mrs. Kim’s raw sobs, the sound being too much to bear. 

She had lost her very first born. The child she learned how to nurture, the child whose job was for her to protect, the child who was one of her greatest joys in this world, but most importantly the child she had no doubt loved unconditionally. And so to hear her cry with such a deep hysteria…. it was just too much….

Your mom squeezes your hand tightly, knowing that no words could take away the pain that you were feeling. She had first hand witnessed the love Kim Seokjin had for you, watching it go from a faint crush when you two were teenagers to a love so strong she was once sure it was unbreakable. You were going to get through this dark period in your life, that she was sure of, but the real question was when exactly would you come to accept it.

The clergy makes the final cross motion, ending his eulogy with God knows what because right now everything was just a big blur for you. Because even now with the sight of his casket being lowered six feet under and seeing both his mother and siblings cry like never before, it just didn’t feel real.

Slowly members of his family begin to leave after bidding their final goodbyes, with the occasional number of them stopping to give you their condolences, only making your heart wrench even more. You weren’t his wife, so why were they treating you like some widow? You didn’t deserve their consolation because you didn’t choose him. Like the horrible person you were, you just watched him leave that night. If it weren’t for you—

“Y/N?” a familiar voice interrupts your thoughts.

Turning, you feel your body go cold, “Y-Yoongi?” and beside him were none other than Namjoon and Taehyung, all three of them having tear stained eyes. 

With sad eyes, they give you a small smile, clearly hurting themselves at the loss of their dear friend.

Soon you’re embraced in a hug by them, your body still in disbelief at the sight of them. It had been so long since you’d last seen them, years in fact. Never did you imagine your reunion with them would be here.

“W-we would’ve gotten here sooner but we caught traffic,” Taehyung says with a weak voice, eyes on the verge of spilling more tears.

And for the first time in a month, a small smile appears on your face, “You’re—” you sniffle, “You’re such a bad liar,” and he pulls you in for another hug, this time allowing those tears to fall.

The four of you soon stand in silence, words not having to be exchanged in order to understand what you were all feeling.

Namjoon suddenly speaks, “The last time I saw him was was the day he first came back into town, Christmas,” Yoongi smiles at the memory, all three of them being there, “He stopped by our apartment before going back to his mom’s, said he wanted to say hi,” Joon continues, “even apologized for just disappearing out of nowhere.”

“Tch that idiot,” Yoongi mumbles, “he said the first place he wanted to go was the diner but that they were closed,” Yoongi’s eyes glisten, trying his best not to cry.

“He then promised that for the next time he saw us, he’d to treat us to a meal and some soju,” Taehyung feigns a laugh, “We never got to take him up on it though...” his eyes lower.

“But the thing I’ll remember the most was his horrible attempt at finding out how you were after all those years,” Namjoon shakes his head, a dimpled smile appearing on his face.

Yoongi’s face lights up, remembering just how much he teased Jin that night, “You should’ve seen him,” he chuckles, “Not only were his ears red like how they’d always get but his whole face as well,”  tears fall from Yoongi’s face as he laughs, “He looked like a tomato.”

“Ah and the mullet,” Taehyung reminds them, and soon the clear image of the Jin you’d fallen in love with when you were seventeen appears in your mind.

And for the first time since their appearance, you speak, “He—” you softly chuckle, “He was always convinced he’d bring them back in style,” and the boys feel a sudden sense of happiness in seeing you talk about him.

“Yeah he was—” Namjoon suddenly stops speaking, the boys and him now staring at something behind you.

It was Mrs. Kim, who was now walking towards the four of you, a box in her hands. A solemn smile graces her face.

One by one, she hugs each one of them, turning her attention towards you last, “I was—” she pauses, “I was hoping I could talk to you, privately,” she says, the boys silently nodding and bidding a silent farewell to you, glad to have made you smile, even if it was for a temporary moment.

She leads you to a bench, not too far away from his grave. 

By now the rain had stopped and the sky was now a gloomy shade of gray. 

Placing the box on her lap, for a small moment both of you simply stare at the view in front of you in silence.

You hadn’t talked to her since the night of your rehearsal dinner, not because you didn’t want to, but because looking at her reminded you so much of him. It reminded you of that first day you met him, how she had forced him to show you around town, not knowing that the two of you would be head over heels for one another years down the road. She, along with your mom, had always been your guys’ number one fan, always rooting for the both of you.

“He really did love you,” she stares off into the distance, “up until his very last breath, I’m sure,” she whispers.

You lower your gaze, unable to look at her.

Oddly enough, there was a peaceful aura in the air, both quiet and serene. Just like he would’ve loved it to be. He never did like seeing people cry.

“Whenever he’d come back home to visit, you should’ve seen the way his eyes would light up when he’d talk about you,” she smiles, “always eager to talk about what you were doing with your career,” she fiddles with her wedding ring, “Sungjin would get peeved but Seokjin wouldn’t care,” she chuckles, “he just loved you that much.”

At the mention of his father, only then fo you realize that you hadn’t seen him at all the entire service, “Where’s—” you’re hesitant to ask, not wanting to push boundaries, “Where’s Mr. Kim?” you croak. Yeah, he and Jin didn’t have the best relationship, but did that really matter now? Did any of it matter at this point?

She bitterly smiles, “He’s grieving in his own way,” she says, her voice breaking and her eyes still watery, “Those two had a tough love relationship,” she feigns a laugh, “but—” her voice cracks, “I always secretly knew that Seokjin was Sungjin’s favorite,” she sniffles her tears, “he just wasn’t good at showing it.”

You try your best not to cry, too physically and emotionally exhausted to sob any more. To you, it was just better to be numb than to feel every single emotion heightened, but God was it so hard. Everything just had to be so fucking hard. 

Tightly, you grip the bench with your fingers, biting your lip in effort to suppress your emotions.

Slowly, she begins to open the box, pulling out what seemed to be childhood photos of Jin. 

A genuine smile appears on her face as she begins to show you them, wet tears splashing onto the squared photos, “I—” she stutters, “I wanted you to have these,” she begins to explain, handing some of the photos off to you, “I tried looking for the photos and videos he’d take when you two met but,” she frowns, “but I don’t if he threw them away or—” she begins to ramble, “so I brought you these instead. I’m sorry they’re not of the exact memory you have of him,” she feigns a chuckle, “you know Seokjin,” she scratches the back of her neck, reminding you of exactly where Jin got his mannerisms from, “he never did like taking pictures.”

She flips through more of the photos, “I’m sorry there’s not that many,” her voice shakes, “I just—”

She needed to keep her memories of him too, is what you know she wants to say. 

You notice that she’s also thrown some of Jin’s favorite things in the box, his denim jacket, the original little Mario figure he had always kept on his bed stand and his favorite Mariah Carey album, Daydream.

“I understand Mrs. Kim,” you softly say, “Thank you,” you whisper to her, embracing her in a tight hug.

“I should be the one thanking you,” she says in return. Thank you for loving him, are the unspoken words that linger in the air.

“I should—” you lower your gaze, “I should get going,” you say, feeling as if the world was spinning, your breathing now becoming rapid.

With the cardboard box in your hands, she watches as you hurriedly leave, only hoping that rather than haunt you, things could one day get better for you.

Running as far as you could, you hide behind a pillar. 

It was all too much. 

Everything was just too much.

Finally, silent sobs escape your mouth as you squat against the cement pillar. Grabbing his jacket from the box, you sob into it. 

You just couldn’t let go.

As much as you wanted this all to be some horrible nightmare, you knew deep down it wasn’t. This mind numbing pain was all too real and unbearable for it to be some dream. You weren’t going to be waking up and finding Jin by your bedside, you weren’t going to hear his high pitched laugh ever again, and you weren’t ever going to be able to tell him just how much you still loved him.  

Because Kim Seokjin was never coming back.

Your Jin was never coming back. 

And it was completely all your fault for it. It was all your stupid miserable fault. If only you had—

“Y/N?” Seojun crouches down to face you, genuine concern on his face. “You’re—” he stutters, “You’re gonna get sick standing out here,” he wipes your snotty nose with his suit’s handkerchief.  

Seojun was trying. He was trying to be as supportive as he could, and you understood that, truly you did. But just looking at him was a reminder of your choice because at the end of the day he was the person you chose over—

“It’s going to get dark soon y/n,” he whispers, “I-I think we should get going.”

You stare at him in silence and then turn to face the direction of the grave.

He wanted you to say goodbye.

But you just … you just weren’t ready to.

Because there lied the boy you were once so certain you’d have a future with. The boy who was capable of making you laugh even on gloomy days like this. The one who loved you on your good and bad days. The one who stood in a room full of people just to tell you how much he still loved you, something you knew he was probably so nervous about. 

And so you just couldn’t let go.

But knowing you’d couldn’t stay here forever, you had to do the most humane thing you could possibly do. You had to live on.  

“And so I did, all for him…”

“Yeojin!” you grab your mischievous 4 year old from the waist, stopping her blatant attempt at touching the stove, “What did I say about trying to touch the stove,” you scold her, and all she does is giggle, clearly unaware of the potential consequences of her actions. 

Sadly you couldn’t be too mad, she was still learning right from wrong, but when it came to things like this, it was hard to keep your patience.

Carrying her up the stairs, you continue to scold her, “Remember what I said about it being hot,” you remind her, “you don’t want to end up with your fingers all red, do you?”

She nods her head no, “Of course not mommy.”

“Then,” you sigh, placing your little girl on her bed.

“Daddy said I’m in-de-struct-ible,” she sounds out the new word she’s recently learned, “Like Spiderman!” she mimics the superhero’s web shooting ability, the movie she just saw recently still clearly still in her mind.

“Okay Spiderman, I think it’s time you take a nap,” you say, and she mumbles something inaudible in return, “Hey hey, don’t go giving attitude now little lady,” you hide your smile, “it’s too early for all of that.”

Though not wanting to sleep, she allows you to tuck her in, already planning to get up and play with her toys once you left.

Taking note of her grumpy attitude, you place a kiss on her forehead, gently combing a hand through her hair, “I love you,” you coo.

“I love you too Mommy,” and before you knew it, her eyes were closed, the little girl now “sound asleep”, or at least that’s what you thought.

Sighing, you leave the room, gently closing the door. 

That girl was a handful, most definitely, but she was everything you had in this world. Your symbol to keep moving forward, despite that constant need to look back.

Going down the stairs, you hum Mariah Carey’s new song, “We Belong Together” , the famous singer’s latest comeback single having topped the charts these days.

“When you left I lost a—” the smell of something burning gathers your attention, the intense scent of cooking oil alarming you that something was wrong. Your mind goes back to when you grabbed Yeojin from reaching the stove, her arm clearly outstretched—

Boom!

The kitchen illuminates an intense shade of red, a fire now starting from the stove, “Oh my—” immediately you run up the stairs because despite your mind being in utter chaos, one thing was clear: you had to get Yeojin out of here.

Frantically turning the knob to her door, you come to realize that it’s locked, “Yejin!” you yell.

“Mommy, I’m playing!” she giggles, oblivious to the danger you both were in.

You practically begin to punch the door, “Yejin I need you to open the door!” your breathing becomes heavy, panic now flowing in your veins. Smoke was beginning to reach upstairs, signaling to you that this fire was moving fast, dangerously fast.

Taking a deep breath, you take a couple of steps back from her door, “1..2…” using all your force, you ram into the door, effectively opening it in the process.

Without a second thought you grab Yeojin, wrapping one of her blankets around her body and face, immediately running down the stairs as fast as you possibly could. 

By now the whole entire living room and kitchen were in flames, and you could hear Yeojin begin to whimper, confused as to what was going on.

“Everything’s gonna be okay baby,” you soothe her, your hand regrettably grabbing the door knob.

Immediately you hiss in pain, retracting your hand, “Oh God,” your hand felt as if it was sizzling. 

There was no way you could get to the window, not without risking your daughter’s safety.

Preparing yourself for what you were about to do, you mentally reassure yourself, completely grabbing the door handle and twisting it, withholding the screams you desperately wanted to let out until you were out.  

Running out, you place your daughter on the neighbor's front yard, the family immediately coming to assist you.

By now the whole neighborhood was standing outside their houses, concern and worry evident on their faces, “Oh my God y/n,” your neighbor notices the burn on your hand, “Go grab the kit in the basement!” she instructs her son.

By now, your breathing was erratic, a result of all the smoke you had inhaled, “T-The f-fire de—”

“We’ve already called them, they should be on their way. I’ve called Seojun’s job as well—” she immediately reassures you, “You need to relax y/n,” she tells you, but immediately your mind goes to something inside your house that was irreplaceable.

Mrs. Kim’s box.

Getting up from the lawn, you hear Yeojin call out to you, “Mommy!” she yells as you begin to run back to the house, focused on one thing and one thing only. 

Getting that box.

“Y/N!” your neighbor tries to get you to come back, but by then you were already making your way inside, using your shirt as a cover for both your mouth and nose, a measly attempt at having more time inside the house.

Running up stairs, you barge into your room, immediately looking to the spot in your closet where you always had the box, but to your shocking surprise… it wasn’t there.

“What the…” you mumble to yourself, your lungs beginning to feel heavy again. 

Without a second thought, you begin to ravage the room, knowing your time in here was limited. The fire was going to reach up the stairs at any moment, and once it did, it was over for you.

“What the fuck!” you yell to the empty room, feeling as if you were on the verge of an utter mental breakdown. It had to be here! There was no way you moved it, and Seojun knew better than to touch it. Putting a halt to your search, your eyes widen when you come to realize something.

What the hell was Yeojin playing with?

The Mario figure.

And in the blink of an eye, you run out the room, only to find the hallway now engulfed in flames, making it almost impossible to get into her room, not unless you wanted to burn to death.

“No…” you say under your breath, refusing to believe the box was in there. Your vision was beginning to get hazy and your head was pounding, now unsure if it was because of the fire or if it was because of the state of shock you were in. Tears begin to fall from your eyes as you hear the sound of the firetrucks nearing the house.

“Seokjin…” your voice breaks, realizing that the final things you had to remember him by were now gone. But despite your state of grief, your body knew it had to move on its own. Because by staying here, you’d inevitably die, and he wouldn't want that, not because of something like this.

Lifting up the window in your bedroom, you begin to slowly place your body out, trying your best to work with one hand. The fire was beginning to get to your bedroom, and you simply couldn’t afford to wait for the firemen to come with a ladder.

Sucking the pain up for one final time, you place your injured hand onto the ledge as well, now dangling outside the window, a scream of pain coming out of your mouth.

“Oh my God, Y/N!” you hear Seojun call out to you, “I’m gonna get you help, just hang on!” he yells, immediately running back to the front yard to presumably tell a fireman.

But the pain on your hand was just too much.

You needed to let go.

Even if it meant getting hurt in the process.

And soon you feel the impact of the floor, your arm taking mosting of the hit, most definitely dislocating. The last thing you see being the paramedics.

“Mommy! Mommy! Look what I made for you with all the other kids who were visiting their mommies and daddies!” Yeojin eagerly shows you the scribbling piece of art she created from her car seat, a toothy grin on her face.

“It looks amazing Yeojin,” you feign a smile, trying your best to act normal. Today you had been discharged from the hospital after about 2 weeks of getting your hand and arm treated along with having multiple tests ran because of the amount of smoke you inhaled.

Now, with bandages wrapped around your hand and a heavy cast, which the doctor said would take about two to three months to completely heal, you were on your way to your new (temporary) home. The fire had ravaged absolutely everything, sparing not a single thing in its sight.

It was your fault really, you shouldn't have had the cooking oil so close to the stove, especially without its cap on.

You turned your attention to Seojun, his quietness during the whole car ride not going unnoticed by you. It seemed as if whenever he did talk or laugh, it was unmistakingly fake.

Deciding you weren’t going to press him on it in front of Yeojin, you tell Yeojin to go upstairs to her room once you arrive.

Sighing, you place your things on the dining table, your free arm now feeling sore from its now constant use. 

You attempt to make small conversation with your husband, “The insurance company called me at the hospital, said almost everything was covered…” you bring up, but he remains stoic.

You try again, “Yeojin seems to have made a lot of friends, with the way she was rambl—”

He finally breaks his silence by interrupting you, “Why did you do it...” he mumbles, causing your eyebrows to perk up, “Why did you run back into that fire?” he asks, trying to contain his anger.

You feel your body freeze for a moment before answering, “I told you already, I wanted to get the papers in the sa—”

He’s quick to cut you off, venom in his voice, “Stop lying,” he grits his teeth, “There was—” he shakes his head, “There was only one thing in that house that I’m sure you’d risk your life for Y/N, so let’s stop acting dense here…”

You lower your gaze, silence filling the room.

“You could’ve died y/n,” he whispers, and your silence only peeves him, “Died!” he repeats, wanting you to understand the possible severity of your actions.

Narrowing your gaze, you scoff, “You think I don’t know that,” you spit back, not exactly fond of how he was treating you, as if you weren’t a grown woman capable of understanding the consequences of your actions.

“No I don’t think you do,” he retorts back, “Because if you did then you wouldn’t have ever gone back inside that house to begin with!” his voice becomes louder.

“You’re going to wake her up,” you refer to Yeojin, who was probably taking a nap in her room.

It was now his turn to scoff, “Like you care.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” you growl in return.

“You almost left her without a mother!” he finally yells, “All for that goddamn—” he stops himself midway, unable to finish the sentence.

You glare at him, knowing exactly what he wanted to say, your eyes already getting watery at the thought of it, “Say it,” you challenge him, “Say what you’ve been wanting to say for all these years,” you mutter.

“He’s gone y/n…” he tiredly whispers under his breath, maintaining your gaze, “He’s been gone for 4 years now!” he cries out, and you feel your face twist in anguish.

“Shut up,” you mutter.

“It’s time to accept it y/n, you can’t keep letting him haunting you, you can’t keep being in deni—”

“Just shut up!” you yell but he relents.

“Life has moved on y/n,” his voice breaks, “it’s time that you do too!”

“But I have! Can’t you see?” tears are uncontrollably falling down your face by now, “I stayed with you despite it all!” you scream, now heaving in anger, “I had a kid with you, we bought that big old house you always wanted—”

“And why is that y/n? Why did you stay with me after his death, huh? Why?” he asks you, his questions ringing in your head, making you feel as if you were going insane.

“Because I made a choice that day!” you yell loud enough for your voice to echo across the room, everything coming to a haunting silence, “Because I chose you that night, when I could’ve chosen him,” you cry, “And I can’t bring myself to regret that choice, not anymore at least, because regretting you would mean regretting her!” you glance at the stairs, signalling that you were talking about Yejin, “And I just can’t bring myself to do that. I chose you, and I have to deal with that decision for the rest of my life. I got up from that bed years ago and went on with my life all for you—”

He shakes his head, “No you didn’t…” he frowns, “You didn’t…”

You did it for him.

“Y/N he’s dead…” Seojun repeats, his heart still wrenching for you even years later, “it’s time you let go and begin to live for yourself. Not for him, not for me, not for her, but for you,” he grabs your hand, squeezing it in the process, “It’s time you let go.”

You pull your hand back, refusing to accept it, “I just—” you muster up your tears, “I just wanted to save what was left of him. Because without it he just existed in my memory and—” your voice shakes, “and now he really only does. Because now he’s really gone,” you sob,“ Can-Can you really blame me?” you weakly say.

“I can’t,” he says, “but I also can’t keep doing this anymore,” he murmurs, “I’ve tried y/n, I really have. But I can’t help someone who doesn’t want to be helped, and I have to prioritize Yeojin first and so I think—” he struggles to continue, “I think we should get a—”

“Divorce,” you scoff, tears still flowing down your face.

He gulps, “I’ve been talking with a lawyer for about a year now, we’d get joint custody, with no need for court because I don’t see us having to make this a longer process than it needs to be.” 

“You’re not taking my daughter away from me,” you clench your teeth. 

“I know I’m not and I wasn’t planning on it because damn it y/n, you’re an amazing mother. Truly, you are. But—” he pauses, “But until you find closure and acceptance then I think—I think she should stay with me for the meanwhile, until you’re ready that is.”

Until you’re ready to let go.

By now you were fully sobbing again because not only were you unable to control your emotions, but because you knew he was right. Ever since Seokjin’s death, he was the one who had to hear you silently cry at night, the one who had to accept that no matter what Seokjin would always be the one dearest to you, and who secretly hoped that with time it’d be something you’d get past.

Had it been anyone else, and you were sure they would’ve left you the day Seokjin passed. But Seojun was different, Seojun understood. But he couldn’t prioritize you anymore, not with Yeojin now in the picture.

You feel his arms wrap themselves around your frame, comforting you for a final time, “I’m sorry, for everything,” he whispers.

“Me too Seojun,” you hum in return, “Me too.”

The smell of the fresh rain hitting the concrete headstones fills your nose as you make your way to the resting place of the person you once loved the most. You hadn’t been here since the funeral, too in denial to ever really visit.

It had been three months since your separation with Seojun, your arm now fully healed. Currently, you were staying at a small apartment near your parent’s house, still unable to bring yourself to stay at their place. Not with the amount of memories it brought on.

The last you’d heard, Mrs. Kim had also moved, and you assumed it was for the same reason you couldn’t bring yourself to go back home. It was just too much.

Placing the red roses on top of the headstone, you make yourself comfortable by sitting on the grass, not caring if it was moist from the rain.

You just wanted to talk to him.

“I’m getting divorced, you know?” you begin, deciding to catch him up on recent events, “Things didn’t seem to work out between me and Seojun,” you chuckle, staring at your now naked ring finger ,“Not that you hadn’t predicted it already.”

Silence.

“We had a daughter together,” you mention the hyper little girl, “Her name is Yeojin, I think you would’ve loved the name,” you say, “She—”already you feel tears beginning to well up in your eyes, “She sorta laughs like you, that same kind of laugh that unintentionally makes everyone around her laugh,” you begin to ramble, “she seems to like Mariah Carey as much as you too, she’s the only artist we’ve noticed that can get Yeojin up and dancing. I’m sure she would’ve loved to dance with you,” tears begin to fall from your eyes.

The soft sprinkles of the rain surprisingly soothe you. 

“God, I’m such a crybaby,” you mumble, remembering how Jin would tease you for your sensitivity to things, “It’s just so hard, you know? Sometimes it still feels like you’ll walk through the door with a VHS movie you just rented in your hand, talking about how excited you are to see it after hearing reviews,” you laugh, “or that you’ll come in the room to tell me to fix your hair after cutting it crookedly.”

You place your hand on his headstone, softly grazing your palm against its rough surface, “You know scientist theorize that there’s possibly billions to an infinite number of parallel universes out there,” you chuckle, “I learned about it in my introductory course to Physics my first year in college, I don’t know if you remember me babbling about it,” you continue, “But it means that there are cosmic patches which are exactly like ours where everything has happened exactly like this one, meaning somewhere out there there’s someone exactly like us, except they have the possibility to do things different. And so... I wonder in which universe did we get our happy ending?” you solemnly ask, “I—”

“Y-Y/N?” a familiar voice says your name from behind, and immediately you turn to face the person.

“Mr-Mr.Kim?” you say in disbelief, as you hadn’t seen the man in years. Not since the final year you were still with Jin. 

You scan his appearance, wrinkles and gray hairs now more prevalent on him, but yet he still looked like the spitting image of his son. He just looked more … tired.

He places the flowers in his hands next to yours, silently taking a seat next to you. You were still staring at him in shock as he was the last person you would’ve expected to see today.

“It’s—It’s been a while,” he says, and originally you were unsure if he was saying it to you or his son, that was until he turned his attention towards you.

Silently, you nod, unsure of what to say, “Yeah,” you mumble.

“Do you often come here?” he asks.

Ashamed, you nod your head no, “This is actually my first time since the funeral,” you confess.

He hums a response, not in a place to judge, “Nothing to be ashamed about little girl, we all have our own ways of grieving and coping with a loss,” and you’re surprised to hear such comforting words from him. In the years you’d known him, you couldn’t recall a time where you had an actual genuine conversation with him. It was depressing that it had to be now.

“Do—” you hesitate, “Do you?” you gulp, “Do you often come here?” you repeat his question. 

Coughing first, he then responds, “Every Friday since his funeral,” his fingers tremble, and you were unsure if was because of his age or because of the topic he was currently talking about, “I do it to catch up with my boy, keep him up to date with the things you young people are doing,” he explains, eyes now glistening, “it’s the least I could do for him,” he mumbles.

A silence follows after.

Feeling bold, you ask him something you’d been curious about for a long time, “Why didn’t you come to the funeral?”

He stares at the headstone, “I—” he sighs, “He was my first born, my first son, my—” he hardens his jaw to prevent himself from crying, “The night it happened he called the house, asking me to go pick him up. I had been tired from work that night, so I went to sleep early,” you feel your heart twist, “If I hadn’t overworked myself that day, I could have picked up that phone call and told him to stay where he was, that I’d be there in no time because at the end of the day he was my son who I loved like no other, even if we had a rocky relationship. He still called his dad for help, and I—” he takes a deep breath in, feeling himself lose control, “I let him down,” he ultimately says, “And so I let the guilt eat me alive, to the point where I felt like I didn’t deserve to go to my son’s funeral.”

You stare at him in silence, understanding exactly what he felt. For you had felt that same guilt all these years.

“I quit my job following his death, and fell into a deep depression like no other. Yerin and I were even close to getting a divorce, the loss of our son adding a strain to our marriage,” he explains, “She had managed to accept and let go of her pain, but for me it was just too much. I couldn’t accept that he was gone,” he pauses, “I just couldn’t let go.” 

A single tear falls from his eye.  

“I was breathing , but no longer was I living,” he continues, “And so I needed to learn how to live for myself. I needed to accept that he was gone. I needed to say goodbye, even if it hurt to do so,” he smiles solemnly to himself, “because once I finally did, it was liberating.”

“And it was in that moment while talking with Mr. Kim that I’d come to realize that in order to start living for myself, that it was time to let go, that it was time to say goodbye.”

Getting up from the grass, you stare at Seokjin’s grave for one final time, for it was time to accept the cruel fate that had been given in this awful tale. One day you’d be back, that you were sure, but for now all that was left for you to say was....

“Goodbye Seokjin,” you whisper, ready to begin again.

Jimin and Jia stare at you in silence, both having dried tears and disbelief written on their faces. This couldn’t be how the story ended, right?

But it was.

“So you really have nothing to remember him by?” Jia asks, and you point to your forehead.

“Sadly all ll I have is this,” you say, “but for me that’s more than enough.”

You turn your attention towards Jimin, “And so here I am, having told you this story in order to teach you that you shouldn’t let your fears get in the way of allowing yourself to be happy, ” you say, “Because then you’ll live a life of nothing but regret,” and immediately he gets up from his seat.

“Where the hell are you—” Jia’s about to ask him something until you raise a finger, signaling to her to let him be.

“I’m-” he stutters, “I’m going to get my girlfriend back,” he breathes out, squeezing past Jia, “T-Thank you Ms. y/l/n. I mean it,” he says, and you only smile in return.

“I should be the one thanking you,” you whisper to yourself, watching as he hurriedly leaves the diner.

Placing money on the table, Jia smiles at you, “Come on Grandma, let’s go home,” she hugs you once you get up, making a new vow to herself to appreciate those around her and never take anything for granted. Just like Jimin had learned, she had to live for herself.

“Finally! I know I told you that you could stay out as long as you wanted but I didn’t think—” Yeojin is interrupted by the embrace of her daughter arm’s. Confused by the sudden act of affection, she narrows her eyes, “If this is some trick into getting your phone little—”

“Shhh,” Jia complains, “I can’t hug my mom?”

Allowing her skepticism to pass, Yeojin returns the hug, “Movie night?” she asks her daughter and immediately she nods.

You smile at the sight, making your way up the stairs and into your room.

Slowly, you crouch under the bed, pulling out a worn out box from under your bed, grabbing a small flash drive out of it in the process.  Placing the now vintage item into the plug-in of your TV, your mind flashes back to that last conversation you had with Mr. Kim. 

“Wait,” Mr. Kim stops you from leaving, pulling something out of his suit’s breast pocket, in what seemed to be a flash drive?

Handing you the small item, you look at him confused, “I found it in his room when we moved, not too long after his passing, I’m guessing he must’ve converted it before breaking that old camera of his and well I always carried it around just in case—” he pauses, “Just in case I ever bumped into you.”

You furrow your brows, why was he telling you this now? Why didn’t he look for you instead? 

As if reading your mind he says, “Because you’ve finally said your goodbye,” he smiles, “watch this when you’re finally allowed to look back. " 

Pressing play, you stare at the screen in front of you.

“Seokjin!” the person behind the camera sighs, “Seokjin!” Mrs. Kim yells again, and the camera begins to shake, presumably because the person was now going down the stairs.

The camera soon pans to the twins, both of them giggling at the cameraman's antics, “Say hiiii,” he cooes. And soon the door he’s recording opens and the camera pans to a 17 year old you, an awkward expression being worn on your face.

“Woah,” he whispers, zooming in on your face.

Your eyes begin to water as you watch the recorded memory.

“Seokjin, but you can call me Jin for short,” he introduces himself, the camera now recording the wall beside him, probably because of how he was carrying it in that moment.

The scene then changes.

“Come on, you know you wanna smileeee,” Jin sings, he closes the camera to your face, ultimately making you smile.

“Well cheers to a new friendship,” Taehyung announces and Jin records you all lifting your hands in the air.

The scene changes again.

“This is her first time eating kongguksu everyone,” Jin announces.

“Who are you even talking to?” you roll your eyes, grabbing the noodles with your chopsticks.

“To the people of the future!”

And you recall how Jin had winked at you that time, causing your crush on him to begin to grow more intense.

Your face gets red as he continues to record you. Taking a slurp of the noodles, you try to cover your face.

“Well what do you think?” he asks.

Your face twists, “Mmmm I don’t know,” you mumble, the taste not exactly being your favorite.

“Boooo!”

You flash him the middle finger.

The scene changes.

“Y/N” the camera begins to move around, and your giggles begin to get louder, “Hand that back to me!” the camera begins to move in an up and down motion, probably because whoever was holding it was running.

Soon the person gets tackled, but not before panning the camera onto Seokjin’s face.

“And the recorder finally gets recorded,” you laugh, and Jin attempts to cover his face, but you’re quick to remove his hands. He awkwardly avoids eye contact, allowing you to record his face.

You feel your breath hitch. It was Jin… the Jin you knew, the Jin you fell in love with. Right there in front of you.

Looking at the camera he quickly makes a kissy face, making you shriek in excitement. “There you have it folks,” you tease him, “Kim Seokjin being the model he is…”

He rolls his eyes, now attempting to reach for the camera.

“Okay okay, that’s enough,” he groans as you relent.

“Smileeee!”

The scene changes for a final time, and you see Jin sitting in his room, facing the camera you presumed he had set up. 

“Hello!” he awkwardly waves to the camera, “If you’re watching this it means one, you’ve been snooping around in this room or two, you’re Y/N.”

You feel your heart skip a beat, and your body going numb.

“Ah I don’t know how to start this,” he chuckles, scratching the back of his neck, “When I first met you, I thought you were really pretty,” he begins, “and I knew I wanted to be your friend! What I didn’t think was going to happen was that I’d end up really really realllyyyy liking you,” he laughs, “I’ve been trying to tell you for some time now,” his voice cracks, and immediately he begins to cough, trying to make himself sound as manly as possible, “So I thought why not tell you the best way I knew how … through film! That way I’ll let this video do all the work for me,” he smiles.

You laugh at how endearing he was.

“Hopefully you like me too because if not then I feel really bad for the future Jin who’s probably attentively watching your reaction and crossing his fingers. I made this collage of memories using the shitty editing programs we have at the school library so sorry if it’s not exactly the best, but …. I hope this is something you can look back on in the future and be glad I recorded, even if you complained all the time.”

Look at him, predicting the future.

“So… I’ll leave it to the future Jin to handle the rest,” he laughs, “Byeeee!” he waves to the camera. His final goodbye.

5 years later.

“Mom, slow down!” Yeojin instructs, worried about how fast you were trying to walk.

“If you can’t keep up with me, an 80 year old lady, then that should be a concern for you, not for me!” you continue with your daily walk, enjoying the spring weather. 

“If you’re not careful you cou—” Yeojin suddenly stops speaking, now having caught up to you. “Mom?” Yeojin asks, concerned as to what you two were staring at with such a shocked expression on your face. Following your gaze, she notices a man staring at you a little girl tugging at his shirt.

“Daddy! I wanna play on the swings!” she pouts at the lack of attention her father was giving her. Immediately you recognize the woman sitting on the bench behind them, remembering her once crying face which was now replaced with a grin as she carried a second (younger) child in her arms.

Slowly the man raises his hand, waving at you with a warm smile on his face.

A single tear falls from your eye as you wave back, your heart swelling at the sight.

And as quick as the moment was, it ended just as fast. As slowly, you began to walk away, while he went on to play with this young daughter. Two strangers crossing paths for a final time. 

“Do you know that man?” Yeojin cluelessly asks, confused about the exchange that just happened in front of her.

You nod your head, a smile still on your face, “No,” you chuckle, “No I don’t,” you ultimately say, continuing with your walk.

a/n: whew ! & that’s the end ! if you’ve made it this far then i want to personally thank you! i don’t really expect this story to get many notes well because it’s sad and well ik i personally don’t normally click on major character death fics haha. if you enjoyed this fic then (if you can) please please please leave a comment/review/like/reblog (whichever works best for you) and you can always hop in my ask box for any questions or comments :) im thinking of making an alternative ending for this one day, maybe after i finish the whole tun series, but we’ll see haha. ill see yall next time ! <3

[krreader]

black swan.

pairing: king!min yoongi x spymaster!reader fandom: bts warnings: non idol!au ; royal!au ; historical!au ; death ; blood  genre: angst ; fluff  word count: 1.9k+

summary: you’ve always been loyal to the king, ever since you became his left hand, but the amount of deaths resting on your shoulders get to you every now and then. you rarely allow yourself to be vulnerable, too afraid that someone might see.. but anyone would have been better than for king yoongi to find you in this situation. 

a/n: now, I’m going to be honest. I had to change quite a lot of your request to make it fit the idea that I had, but I think I managed to write it in a way that you’ll still be happy with it @strawbaeree​

If someone had told you as a child this is where you'd end up when you're older, you probably would have cried and then ran away from what was to come. The future and the consequences of that future would have scared you, so much that you wouldn't have been able to fathom it, much less see it become reality.

This life that you lived now wasn't a life that you had chosen willingly. If you have had the choice, you would have done what your mother had always wanted and found love, living a peaceful and content life with your family somewhere on a farm where you’d be bothered by nobody.

But you were never given that choice.

Soon after your mother had passed and you were left to fight for survival, you had stumbled over an ambush in the woods while trying to find some berries to eat. You had heard the screams of a woman who was begging her attackers to kill her and not her son.

Everyone else would have run back to the village and gotten help, but your instincts that you cursed in hindsight made you run towards the ambush, pick up a dagger that you found on the corpse of someone – most likely another attacker that was killed in the ambush – and ram it into the back of the attacker that was threatening the woman and her child.

The woman let out a scream, mostly out of surprise and not shock of all the blood, but you couldn’t scream, not even after you realized that you had just taken someone’s life.

All you could do was watch the man crumble to the ground, dig his fingers into the dirt below him as he tried to get back up, but he simply couldn't. Whatever you had hit when you had stabbed him, it prevented him from moving. All he could do was lie there and slowly bleed out.

It was only when the woman got up and grabbed your face to make you look at her and not at the man on the ground anymore, that you realized who it was that you had saved that day.

Queen Eun Jung and her son prince Yoongi had been on the way back to the palace when they had been ambushed by a group of radicals who thought that the future king wasn't a royal at all, but an usurper. They wanted a distant relative who had been preparing for war against your kingdom to become king.

“The rightful ruler” is what they called him.

If they had succeeded that day, who knew what kind of person you'd be now.

But you had killed that man without having given it much thought on what the consequences of that action would be. Back then, you had just wanted to help. But the queen... she had seen your... 'potential'.

“My son will need a left and a right hand once he becomes king. I want you to be his left.”

You were only a child when she had said that. Left hand had meant nothing to you until you had started your training with the left hand of the – then - king.

Left hand was just a nicer word for the truth.

The truth was assassin. Spymaster. The one who'd do all the dirty work that no one else was willing to do.

You had often thought about running away back then, being so scared about what kind of life was lying ahead of you as you were taken on countless of missions and watched your master kill dozens of people. But what if you ran away? What then? You had no family, no money, nowhere to go. At least in the palace, you had a purpose, a roof over your head and warm meals to fight the hunger.

So you had stayed.

And that is how you became the woman that you were today.

Living in the shadows, never to be seen by anyone or anything except for your – now – king.

When you had met Yoongi, he was a gentle child. Never wanted to hurt a fly and was more interested in playing catch with you than learning about the history of his kingdom. He often snuck into your room at night and told you made-up ghost stories that made you giggle. He stole the sweets that you liked so much out of the kitchens, just because he knew you’d smile once he’d give them to you.

But he had changed throughout the years.

His father had died in war soon after you had joined them at the royal grounds and his mother succumbed to a fever a few years later. Suddenly being all alone, he threw himself into the world of politics, his goal now being that of his parents.

Finally ridding his lands of the treacherous king that would see him lie dead at the foot of the throne that 'the rightful ruler’ so desperately sought.

Now, your conversations didn't revolve around your favorite animal or favorite colors anymore.

Now, all he talked about, was who you should kill to give him any advantage in the upcoming war.

At first, killing was something that kept you up and night. Something that made you sob your eyes out, weep for those that had fallen by your hand. You never forgot the first man you killed, but throughout the years, the faces of those lives that you had taken started to blur, mostly because it was simply too many to remember.

You had become a shell of your past self, a killing machine which only purpose in life was to do what her king commanded her.

Spy.

Kill.

Report.

But every now and then, that little girl that you wanted to hold on to so badly, showed herself.

There was currently a big festival held at the palace after the right hand of the king – his commander – had successfully pushed back a foreign army at the border. A reason for celebration, definitely.

But you had never been one for these festivities.

And so you started to walk towards the only place in here that you ever felt peaceful at.

The huge lake at the outskirts of the royal grounds that was only illuminated by the moon casting its shine down onto the water.

The sound of strings started to fade, slowly, leaving only a faint sound that made you close your eyes and take a deep breath, feeling all the stress, anxiety and sadness slip away for just a moment.

You took off your shoes, raising the skirts of your red robes as you dipped your feet into the coldness of the water.

It was these moments that made you feel most alive and that was unfortunately not a feeling you often had anymore. It was as if the more lives you took, the more you died yourself.

You were so far gone in that moment – something that a spymaster definitely shouldn't be – that you didn't realize the reason for why you were here at the palace approached you. Or rather.. the lake, it seemed. Because you weren’t the only one that pretended to be strong day in and day out, when in reality, they would love nothing more than to just give up.

King Yoongi stopped dead in his tracks when he saw you standing there, his lips parting, even more so when you let your hair down, a sight that he hadn't seen since he was a child.

It was easy to forget that you were a beautiful woman, but as Yoongi was staring at you now, he remembered.

He remembered how fond he was of you when you were still children. How he wanted you to like him so badly, but at a certain point, with the tasks that he gave you, he gave up on that dream. You could never be more than a left hand for him. He had made you do too many bad things for you to see him in a good light.

But every now and then, his mind wandered to a place in which you and him had become lovers, maybe in which you had run away and started the peaceful life that you had always dreamed of.

It was naive to think so, thoughts he’d never say out loud.

But they were loud in his mind when they came.

Yoongi watched you pull out your dagger from under your dress and lean down, dipping it under the water and gently washing it off despite there not being any blood on it. He watched you caress the blade, then hold it up into the moonlight to inspect it, before gently placing it behind you on the grass. And once the dagger was safely put away, you pulled up the sleeves off your dress and started to wipe your arms.

It was only then that he saw the scars. 

Some fresh, some old.

You had come back from a mission only yesterday and while you had been successful as always, didn't mean that you didn't run into trouble at some point.

His heart started to do things to him that he didn't like. A king shouldn't feel what he was feeling now.

Regret.

It was his mother that had dragged you to the castle with them, but it was him that gave you task after task. It was him that sent you into dangers again and again. It was him that would ultimately be responsible for your death.

Despite hating it, the feeling was too strong to ignore and so he made himself known by finally walking over to you.

“(Y/N)? Are you alright?”

In your head, you cursed yourself for being vulnerable out in the open, for letting your guard down when others could see you. And it wasn't just anyone that saw you in that state, but the man that should have never seen that you were still a person. Because that would make it harder to give orders.

You quickly put your knife away, pushed your sleeves down and put your hair back up in the ponytail like you did every day.

Yoongi let out a heavy sigh when you turned around and bowed, no sign of the real woman that you were a moment ago left.

You were his left hand again. 

Nothing more and nothing less.

“Forgive me, my king. It was a moment of weakness.”

But instead of walking away with a nod like he should have, Yoongi actually closed the distance until he was right in front of you.

“Let me see,” his voice was soft and he reached out for your arms, pushing your sleeves back up.

You should have walked away that very second, but the little girl that liked the little boy so much kept you standing still and watched his every move carefully.

The man that people were so afraid of, that had gotten the title 'the mad king' was standing so close to you, tending to your past wounds with the softest touch possible. 

You knew him, you knew that he wasn’t what people made him out to be.

But being so open with you was not something you had expected.

“You don’t have to do that,” your voice was fragile, which rarely happened.

“I know I don't,” he looked up into your eyes, “But I want to.”

It was quiet for a moment, only the faint sound of the strings were still playing in the background. Yoongi gently pulled you out of the water so you were standing in the grass with him before he took another look at the scars. His thumb was brushing over them, so softly as if he was afraid he'd hurt you... more than he already has.

You could tell that's what he was thinking, because despite the relationship you now had, you knew him better than anyone else, maybe even better than he knew himself.

“What happened to us, (Y/N)?” you could see him gulp down hard after his question.

“We grew up,” your eyes never left his face and you weren't startled when he suddenly looked up into your eyes again, even when you realized how close you were, “Life does that to you.”

You could see him think for a moment before his hand came up to your face to brush over a scar on your cheek, a scar that you had gotten young, from a mission that he had sent you on. A mission that you had almost died on.

“I wish it hadn't,” you didn't move an inch now, your breathing even, even when he started to caress your cheek, “I wish we were still the carefree children from years ago. I wish I could still sneak treats into your room to make you smile.”

A thought that often crossed your mind too. It was comforting to hear that you weren't the only one stuck in that time that seemed to have been so much easier.

But unlike him, who seemingly forgot who he was for a moment and where you were, you didn't. You had already let yourself be vulnerable before, but you wouldn’t let him be. You wrapped your fingers around his wrist and smiled softly at him, “I think it'd be better for you to go back to your festivities, my king.”

What surprised you was the hurt look that flashed over his face for just a split second. 

But you still saw it.

You didn't know what he had hoped would happen tonight, maybe for you and him to finally be honest with each other and not pretend like you were nothing other than his tool for killing, but apparently you didn't want that.

Or so Yoongi thought, when he cleared his throat and walked away without another word.

But it wasn't like that.

You were simply doing what you had always been doing.

Protecting him.

Your eyes wandered to the man standing in the shadows that had watched all of this. It was only when Yoongi was gone that he retreated back into the shadows.

“In another life, Yoongi,” you whispered to yourself as you slipped back into your shoes, before following him, “But it can't be this one.”

[transbuckaroo]

pain, applause

hello. my name is andrew, and i wrote a short lambden fic a few days ago. this will be based on the “following the thread” quest from “the witcher 3: wild hunt” developed by cd projekt red. the characters are based on dev patel as sir gawain in the 2021 film “the green knight” as directed by david lowery, and paul bullion in the upcoming 2021 seaon 2 of “the witcher” as directed by stephen surjik. i haven’t written very much these past two or three years, but i am proud of this finished product. please keep any comments/criticisms kind. thank you, enjoy!

_________

The moment Aiden realized how well and truly fucked him and Baby Steadfast were, he was already surrounded on all sides. He could sense them. His medallion hummed gently against his chest with the signal of danger with every step he took. If he could get out of this clearing, he thought, just into the tree line to stay hidden. It wasn’t far; he could make it, just keep going. The Cat kept his hand at the ready to make quick work of grabbing his battle axe and kept his breaths even as he walked. Aiden knew what was waiting for him. It seemed the fox did as well. Always intuitive, the little one.

Jad Karadin came out of the trees in front of him like a shadow from an alley, looming and dagger drawn in his right hand. Aiden slowed his pace, too exposed, ears picking up the slide of multiple steel swords off to the left. Then two figures emerged from behind Jad, appearing as if they had come directly from within his body. Lund first, after came Hammond. Baby laid back his ears flat, centering himself lower to the ground in a defensive position. He placed himself between the three and Aiden as he went.

There was no running from them. These people were never meant to be his enemies; Jad was supposed to be his brother especially. If anyone here was supposed to be on his side more than anyone, it was Jad. An elder Cat, someone Aiden was supposed to be able to look up to as a mentor. Jad had broken the mold. Had children, a wife, a life away from being a Witcher. Beyond it. He had proof that there was more.

These things didn’t matter anymore. Whoever Jad Karadin was supposed to be was pointless now. Because he was an evil man today. He and whoever else followed him here.

Aiden drew his axe, pulling a deep and centering breath as he went. There were more of this group, hiding somewhere in the thick of trees, awaiting their moment. This was only to end one of two ways. There would be no other option besides these. For a split second, Aiden found himself missing the presence of a certain Wolf over his right shoulder.

Lambert. Lambert wouldn’t let him get hurt. He would protect Aiden here and now, and the Cat wouldn’t have to worry about a thing. In fact, Lambert would have already drawn his sword and made a calculated advancement on their enemy. He would have won, too, because Aiden has never seen him fail a task when he gets that crease between his brows as they furrow in his determination. Lambert, with his fiery curls and attitude to match. Lambert, with his impossible wit and unrelenting promises made to Aiden that have never broken. Lambert, the little brother of Kaer Morhen, baby of the lot of them.

Lambert, who Aiden swore to see back in the valley in Kaedwen where the Buina and Gwenllech rivers part in Daevon so them and Baby Steadfast could finally make the trek up to Kaer Morhen together.

The heat in between Aiden’s shoulder blades told him he wasn’t going to make it up to the keep this year.

“Aiden,” Jad spoke, knuckles white around the hilt of his dagger. Aiden snapped back into focus. He didn’t even dare to blink. “You know why I’ve come?”

“I didn’t kill the Duke’s daughter. I couldn’t save her. I tried.” The contract Aiden had held just months ago in the start of spring. A young girl, cursed, incurable despite the Duke’s pleads and Aiden’s best attempts to reverse it. She had succumbed to her circumstances. Aiden was paid for his efforts, bowed his head with sorrow as the Duke grieved, and went on his way.

“I’ve come to hear otherwise. You’ve botched it, boy. People are angry with the results of your work and lack thereof. You fucked up, and you’ve not shite to say for it.”

“I didn’t botch anything, I did my job. Not everyone gets a happy ending, Karadin. You’re a Cat. A Witcher. You should know.”

To be completely honest, Aiden hadn’t a goddamnable clue how he was going to get through this. Maybe he could take them. Most rivals don’t tend to waste time talking through events, let alone listen to their target. This time, maybe this time, Aiden could walk away with a mere banishment from the city. Possibly, hopefully, he could meet Lambert in time in the valley.

“You’re right,” said Jad, some semblance of resignation on his face. It wasn’t real, his tone sounded fabricated. “Aiden. Not everyone gets a happy ending.”

The arrow came right in that moment, whizzing through the air and lodging itself into the ground by Aiden’s left foot. He startled, stepped back, whipping his head around to try and follow its trajectory. Someone was up high. Someone was in the trees. Jad brought a sniper with him. Of course he did. Oh, of course that motherfucker did. This horrid, abomination of a man. The tree line was too dense, impossible to know where in the leaves the arrow came from where Aiden was standing in the field. He had only tried to look for a moment though before the sound of running footsteps came too close for comfort. And fuck, he could only gain so much momentum with his axe from this angle but he had to try.

Aiden spun back around on his heel, hands braced on either end of the hilt of his axe, prioritizing blocking the blow and creating distance before landing a strike of his own. Jad was successfully pushed back at the chest. Sent fumbling backwards to regain his footing. He growled in anger at the same time Aiden swung at his accompanying attackers, just barely missing them with the blade of his weapon. Steel struck and sounded a metal clang through the clearing. Aiden grunted with the effort of three-and-a-sniper against one, swinging his axe to catch a sword under the head and vaulting his enemy away. Distance was vital, energy was crucial to use sparingly.

“Baby!” He shouted towards his fox, whom of which was bee-lining for the trees where the arrow had come. “No! Run home! Home! Go home!”

It was something they’d agreed upon once. Home. They knew what home was, who home was. Where home was. The valley. Lambert. The point they meet and part at every year, the small town the Wolves have passed through many times in prior years. It was an easy place to go. That was where they found home, him and Baby. Lambert was home. Baby Steadfast knew this command well and clear as day. Go home. Go find Lambert; he’ll know what it means for the fox to show up without the company of his Cat Witcher. He’ll spring into action.

All it took was one incorrect turn, expose just a little too much of something or other, at just the right moment. It wasn’t because he’d called out to Baby; he knew how to give direction without faltering in his task. It was fucked luck. Terrible, awful, shit luck. All he did was avoid another two arrows in the ground, one grazing his cloak as it went.

Jad caught him in his right side with his dagger, blade plunging in deep and ripping a pained and surprised shout from Aiden’s throat. All the way in and right back out. Aiden staggered, snarled, and lunged at the man in front of him. Jad was a monster on this day, and Witchers know damn well to dispose of those. His side was on fire. The younger Cat swung, but Jad ducked underneath the blade. As Aiden turned with the momentum, one of the others kicked a boot into his chest and sent him backwards into Karadin’s grasp. The dagger entered the same area as before as Jad grappled an arm around Aiden’s throat. He was stuck. He was bleeding horribly. Baby Steadfast had gone to get Lambert. There was no way they would find one another in time.

With a strong shove from the man behind him, the dagger dislodged, and in the same moment whoever was at his left ripped his axe out of his hands. Aiden tried to spin around to face them as he propelled forward, but only managed to end up on his back on the grass. It was still cold with morning dew. Aiden could see the fog of his breath as he fell.

And in the most startling of realizations as Jad came to kneel over him, Aiden realized he was going to die. Without Baby. Without his dignity. Without Lambert. Without telling Lambert how much he truly and purely loved him.

He thought he had more time. Had it all planned out. They would meet in three weeks hence, and the night before they would make the ascent to the keep for the winter, Aiden would tell Lambert that he loved him in their room. This incredible, selfless, beautiful Wolf. Part of him even believed Lambert might say it back. He would feel the same. They were just like comfortable lovers already, what with the way they shared beds and blankets and curled up in the night to sleep, the way they helped wash and put up one another’s hair, cooked for each other, looked out for each other, lost all sense of personal space with each other. Melitele, the two of them even refused to separate their bedrolls while they camped out during their travels. They called each other “pup” and “kitten” respectively, dressed wounds, mended clothes and armor, cleaned weapons, hunted together, laughed and smiled and hugged and shared stories. Oh, Lambert was beautiful. Of course Aiden was in love with him. To expect anything else were a fool’s game.

“Oh, kitty cat,” he heard from above, and focused his eyes on Jad. The coldness of his gaze, so detached and unaffected. The only indication he’d ever been in a fight at all was the way his chest pulled bigger breaths than before. “Don’t go and cry now, will ye? This is just the natural order of things.”

Oh, Gods above, Aiden was crying. Silent little tears slipping free from the corners of his eyes, sliding down into his hair that lay fanned out in the grass below. Without dignity indeed. Wounds screaming in white-hot pain, vision blurring with tears that he could not control, heart aching, voice beyond him.

“Please,” the younger Cat spoke in a soft, quivering voice. He blinked hard once, twice, willing the tears away. They did not relent.

“Please.” He was being mocked. Then someone spat from out of his sight right into his hair. It smelled of salmon and tobacco. This time Jad’s dagger entered slowly, and new hot tears fell from Aiden’s eyes with the hurt of it, hand coming to grab his wrist in a feeble attempt to stop him. It did nothing. If anything it encouraged the man.

Aiden couldn’t grant him the final victory of looking away from Karadin’s eyes. Even as the blade ripped out of his body once more. Karadin spoke again. “You beg me to spare your life. Your pathetic little life. Insignificant, worthless, liar’s life. You were never going to change; your batch was doomed from the start. Your death is hardly any repayment, but it is the best we can do to provide peace and closure for the Duke and his people. A life for a life. It is but the way of the world, Aiden. Certainly you understand.”

Oh, he understood. A life for a life was the most polite way to speak of revenge. Talk of debts and dues, exchanges of wins and losses. A life for a life meant a day of reckoning to come. Lambert, kind as Aiden ever saw him, would cash this in as quickly and mercilessly as he could. He was coming no matter what. If he was unable to save Aiden now, he as sure as all things was going to tear apart whoever hurt him. What a gorgeous soul he was.

The fourth and final stab, a telling sign of Karadin’s assassinations. Aiden couldn’t fight it this time. A cluster of wounds just under the right side of someone’s ribs, always in four, always fatal. Aiden choked out a cry of searing agony, feeling the blade twist inside of him with force, squeezing his eyes shut and clenching his jaw so tightly he should have broken a few teeth. It twisted again as it was taken out, and all Aiden could do was let the fat tears roll as it happened. He felt Jad grab his medallion from under his shirt and opened his eyes as it was ripped off his neck and placed into a pouch at Karadin’s hip. Proof of death. The easiest form of it, but still worth enough to get paid. Hired by anyone associated closely with a Duke, Jad was sure to be rewarded handsomely for his work.

“Now,” spoke Jad. Aiden’s eyes were starting to get heavy, chest heaving, vision spotting behind the blur of tears. “You’ll be gone in moments, boy. A few minutes and this will be over. The pain will dull just prior, don’t fret. I will not seek out your fox nor that Wolf you travel with, but should they come I will be ready. Goodnight, Aiden. Sleep well.”

Then Jad started to walk away. Hammond and Lund went with him. Aiden could only lay there in the grass, sending his apologies to Baby and Lambert skyward and hope they would understand. He never meant for this to happen. If there hadn’t been that damned sniper, then maybe he could have taken them. But there was no time to dwell now. Darkness crept in, and Aiden’s breathing slowed, and it went dark once and for all as he bled out. He had failed. He was sorry. He could only imagine how horrifically pathetic he appeared. Perhaps he could be forgiven in time by his fox and his Wolf for never coming home.

In some months, when the snow lay thick on the ground, white and untouched blanketing where grass once resided, there would be the choking gasp of a man within the Brokilon Forest. Waking from a healing sleep induced by an old magic, cast by resident Dryads within the cover of trees that towered above. Known by many as the forest of death, breathing life back into someone who simply had not been due to die.

“Sir Witcher Aiden,” said a calming voice, a person standing kindly to the side. Her palm lay gently at the crown of his head, soothing. “We welcome you back to the living world. It has been some time.”

[thrillridesz]

rsvp ▫ hyunjae

➳ pairing: frenemy!hyunjae x female reader ➳ genre: fluff ➳ word count: 1.4k ➳ warnings: mentions of alcohol, language, PG 15 ➳ requested?: no

a/n: this is written as a birthday special for our one and only tbz fried chicken lord, Hyunjae ^^ Happy Hyunjae Day everyone 🥳 please go shower him with lots of love and well wishes =) 

i’m so sorry if this was trash, I kept rewriting this and i think i must have screwed it up big time but i hope you guys like it! this is also unedited.

If humiliation and shame got together to create a person, it’d be you. As you stood by the snack table, you wished with all your heart that you had never accepted Hyunjae’s birthday party invitation in the first place.

The house was abuzz with activity and a catchy song blared from The loudspeakers at the DJ’s stand as people swayed and popped to the beat. Balloons and party streamers decorated the room, the smell of alcohol and fruit punch permeated the air but nobody seemed too bothered by it for they were too busy living in the moment. Everyone, literally everyone had gotten out on a limb to dress well for the party of the year. The ladies were clad in their beautiful party dresses while guys were in their best tops, reeking of their musky cologne. Everyone was having fun, the sweat clinging to their necks in wet tendrils as they simply danced. The drinks in their hands sloshed messily but nobody care as they lived for the night.

Everyone but you.

You had shown up in a vampire costume with the works. Red contact lenses, the fangs and even the freakishly long fake fingernails that practically resembled claws. With everyone shooting you weird looks every now and then, you didn’t even dare look in the mirror. You are sure you must look like a complete fool. Either that, or you just looked like you’re attending the wrong party.

“Hey, Halloween’s next month.” A guy in a blue flannel with a cup of vodka in his hand hollered at you, laughing along with his friends at his own remark.

You kept your eyes trained on the floor, refusing to look up as the shame burned in your face, your grip on your cup getting tighter. The plastic crunched in your hand while you cursed silently under your breath.

“Fuck you, Hyunjae.”

“No, thanks. I’ll pass.” A voice whispered in your ear from behind, nearly causing you to spill your drink.

You turned to look behind you, only to come face to face with the birthday boy himself. You narrowed your eyes, eyes shining with anger.

“You.”

“Wow, no ‘Happy Birthday’? Not even a smile for the birthday boy? That’s kind of rude.” Hyunjae laughed, his grin only growing wider at the frown on your face.

“If you think I’m going to do either of those, you are sadly mistaken. You told me this was going to be a horror themed costume party!” You hissed, jabbing at his chest with your finger only to wince. How the hell is his chest so firm?

“Jesus, are you wearing a breastplate?”

A knowing smirk tugged at his lips, his eyes glittering with mischief and amusement.

“Is that a compliment?”

“No. As if I would want to feed onto your overinflated ego,” you rolled your eyes and Hyunjae clutched onto his heart, his face twisted into an expression of overexaggerated and highly dramaticised agony.

“Ouch. Right where it hurts.”

“Whatever. I’m done playing your game. You’ve successfully shamed me tonight. Congratulations. I’m going home.” You sighed, suddenly feeling overwhelmed and just… Tired.

Why had you even bothered showing up? You should have known better than to trust Hyunjae. The two of you have been frenemies ever since the two of you could crawl. With your parents constantly comparing the two of you, it was normal to naturally forge a more competitive, rivalrous relationship between the two of you. On every single turn, Hyunjae had always tried to undermine you for as long as you could remember. From stupid pranks to just fighting for the extra credit just to maintain his lead over you, he had always wanted the upper hand.

Well, now he’s got it.

Hyunjae’s smile disappeared from his face, his eyebrows burrowing into a V shape in confusion as you turned to leave.

“Hey! Where are you going?”

“Look, you’ve won alright? Just… I’m tired so I’m going to go home first. Have a good birthday.”

It took you a split second to realise that he had latched his fingers over your wrist, pulling you back towards him as you fell backwards. Spinning you into his arms, you felt your breath hitch as you came chest to chest with Hyunjae. Looking up at him, you released a shaky breath when you noticed just how close he was to you, the tip of his nose almost touching yours. His eyes shone with an unexplainable passion as you felt his arms tighten round your waist.

“Hyunjae…”

As if shaking out of a spell, he quickly let you go, withdrawing his hands as if he was burned. You didn’t want to admit it but when you saw his reaction, part of you felt a twinge of disappointment.

“I… I’m really sorry I did that to you. Don’t go. At least stay for some cake.”

Was it just you or did it sound vaguely like he was actually pleading?

“No, thanks. I’ll pass.” You replied in a snide tone before storming out the door with Hyunjae hot on your heels.

“Wait!”

The party guests were starting to stare at the commotion unfolding between the two of you, some whispering and others shooting you looks of disapproval. It must be rather disconcerting on a lot of levels to see the birthday boy chasing after a particularly scary vampire with looks that could kill. The Hyunjae who has never had to chase after a girl is now doing so at his own birthday party? Did someone drug his drink?

“Y/n! Stop! This isn’t a romantic movie, stop being a brat and making me chase after you.” He panted. 

How the fuck does someone run that fast in heels and in that ridiculous get up?

“It’s time you hit the gym then.” You called back, laughing at his pathetic plight, breaking out into a full sprint and running into the night. 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Hyunjae screamed, forcing his legs forward. 

“You... Are seriously unfit.” You chuckled mockingly as you watched Hyunjae lurch over, placing his hands on his knees, his chest rising and falling rapidly. 

“Oh, shut up. It’s the alcohol getting to me.”

You laughed, the melodious sound of your voice floating in the peaceful night and you looked out over the horizon. Somehow, the two of you had managed to bring the direction of the chase all the way to the beach just downtown. The ocean waves crashed gently against the shore as the town lights from afar made it seem as though the two of you were far from civilisation, as if at that moment only the two of you existed in each other’s eyes. 

You turned to Hyunjae. The moonlight against his glistening skin made him look almost ethereal, bringing out not just the clearness of his skin but also the brightness of his eyes. The white button down he wore clung to him from his sweat and you realised with a start how it showed off his defined body. 

Suddenly feeling embarrassed, you turned away and tried to ignore the burning sensation in your cheeks and the pounding of your heart. Before you could stop yourself, the question that had been lingering in your mind for almost the entire night was out of your mouth in an instant.

“Why even invite me today if you’re just going to humiliate me?”

Hyunjae looked up at you, slicking his hair back away from his eyes and you almost felt your heart did a flip when you saw the way he was looking at you. There was an unexplainable passion behind those dark orbs that always shined with a sort of youthful mirth and mischief. As he walked towards you, you felt like you were unable to move away. It was as if you were rooted to the ground and strangely, you didn’t feel like moving away but rather, you found yourself anticipating what was coming next.

Leaning forward, his face was so close such that if you were to move even an inch forward, the two of you would be locking lips. Your hands were starting to turn clammy from all your nerves as you held your breath in anticipation for what his next words.

“Because I get a kick out of seeing you suffer.” Hyunjae grinned, enjoying the annoyed expression on your face. 

“Ugh, get a life.” You shoved him away, feeling ashamed that somewhere deep inside you, you had wished he would have said something else.

He shrugged nonchalantly.

“If I told you the real reason, you wouldn’t believe me.”

“Oh yeah? What is it?” You asked, not even caring what his answer was as you trudged away.

“What if I asked you to come in a ridiculous costume because I didn’t want to have to any other guy hit you up at my birthday party?”

[wickedgamesoyaoya]

❧ part of Jan’s Halloween Circus 

❧ about: atsumu hates ghosts, but free food and the company of his friends leads him to the angel inn where he meets a journalist who is seeking more than a cheap thrill. 

❧ prompts: Anybody else notice the small child staring at us & wait! its too dangerous to go alone, take this! *puts my hand in yours*

❧ pairing: Atsumu x F!reader 

❧ wc: 2.7k

❧ triggers: anxiety, mentions of death and murder, a touch of dark humor, ghost children. 

❧ A/N: I hope you guys like this! I had so much fun writing it. I edited this twice but if I missed anything pls ignore. MWAH. 

The Angel Inn was not merely famous for their delectable burger, no – its name had been splattered across dozens of newspapers for a reason far more dreadful. In 1954, a tragedy occurred on the property, drawing the attention of locals and foreigners alike. On the morning of October 31st four lifeless bodies were discovered by the unsuspecting housekeeper. She was sent to the room after the neighboring occupants complained of a nauseating smell to the front desk. 

After initiating an investigation, the authorities ruled that it was a triple homicide and suicide. The Angel Inn remained closed for months to allow the authorities 24-hour access to the crime scene, and when it was time to reopen, they opted to covert the establishment into a restaurant instead. 

During the renovation the owner had received various complaints from the contracted party, who claimed that something was amiss. There were reported sightings of a little pale boy, along with concerns about flickering lights and screeches that would ring through the narrow hallways. Soon the haunting of the Angel Inn was assigned the status of town gossip, alluring ghost hunters and disbelievers alike to the newly opened restaurant. Though, fearful of a potential lawsuit, the owner of the property elected to lock each of the bedrooms – whether it was to keep the humans out or the ghosts in was questionable. Yet, she hoped either way it would save her from enduring another investigation.

When your boss originally assigned you the story for the Halloween edition of the magazine, not a single protest left your mouth. Instead, the sound of excitement crawling up your throat had to be swallowed, to spare your manager from a potential earache. Not only would your dinner be covered, you were being paid to explore a haunted motel, something you would have agreed to do if your boss had simply asked. Ghost stories had always captured your interest as a child, partially due to the fact your grandmother was a self-proclaimed psychic.

Was it bad that communicating with a ghost was on your list of life goals?

Maybe you should aim higher, but the possibility of encountering a ghost child had electricity surging throughout your nerves. It was going to be perfect.  

When four vouchers were allocated to the Ace of the MSBY Black Jackals for dinner at the Angel Inn, he naturally decided to invite his closest team-mates. Hinata agreed immediately, oblivious to the reputation of the property. Sakusa declined the invite promptly, until he noticed the colour drain from the setter’s face. The panic flaring in Atsumu’s eyes and the strained smile tugging at the corners of his mouth indicated that at minimum, the dinner would be interesting. He could sacrifice peace for one evening if it meant watching his friend tremor the entire time.

“Tsum Tsum, don’t worry! If any ghosts come, I’ll protect us. I am the Ace after-all.” A teasing laugh rose from Bokuto’s chest as he snuck an arm around the setter’s shoulder. The blonde responded with a low grunt, mumbling something inaudible. Ghosts were not his thing, and he failed to understand how they could be anyone’s thing.

But alas, on October 30th, the setter found himself sat at the Angel Inn with his three team-mates. Earlier in the day, he attempted to bribe his brother to colour his hair and attend on his behalf. While Osamu was certainly tempted – it was food after-all, he was unwilling to colour his hair to match his brothers. Blonde was a colour that suited only a subsection of society, and he was not fortunate enough to be granted permission into that branch. And so, he left his older brother to fend for himself.

Nothing could distract Atsumu from the supposed danger that loomed over him, his senses were sensitive to every noise that vibrated within the confines of the establishment. For most of the night, the setter found himself observing every creak, sneeze or laugh, to ensure that its source was not supernatural. However, the anxiety gripping his heart had released its hold when the sound of a melodic laugh touched his ears. It took him a few seconds to discover the source of the laughter, and when he connected it to you, eagerness brought him to his feet.

“What’s wrong with you? Are you possessed now?” Sakusa raised an eyebrow at the blonde as a small simper formed on his mouth. He had read that the weakest one in the room is the most likely to fall victim to possession, and so it made sense if Atsumu was their first target.

“I’m gonna go talk to that pretty girl.” With his fingers adjusting the collar of his shirt, a flirtatious expression adorned his features, washing away any hint of gloom that was once present. While Bokuto and Hinata strived to detect who their friend was referring to, Sakusa clicked his tongue in artificial distaste.

“Did it ever occur to you, that maybe she is a ghost?” The humour laced into the inquiry could not be successfully disguised by the outsider hitter’s pretentious attitude. It was clear to them all that it was his attempt at a joke. 

“Shut up, Omi!” Before stepping away from the table, the blonde administered a glare at his friend. There was no way you were a ghost… Right?

When Atsumu was close enough to catch a glimpse of your face, any concerns on the status of your existence were banished. Although, he was not particularly enthusiastic when he spotted the notebook situated in front of you. Reporters were usually far too intrusive and insensitive for his liking. Yet he still found himself claiming the empty stool beside you.

“Whatcha got there?” Shifting his gaze to the sheet filled with scribbles, his breath caught in his throat at the title. The Haunting of The Angel Inn.

It took you a second to comprehend that the question was aimed at your work. The last thing you anticipated was for someone to seek you out during your little investigation today. Dressed in ordinary business attire, it was surprising that someone of his calibre would consider sparing you a second look, yet alone a conversation.

“Hm? Oh, I’m writing an article.” Despite instructing yourself to not stare, your y/e/c irises refused to leave the stranger’s face. There was something familiar about him – was he a model? As you racked through your mind for an answer to the question of his identity, you blinked in slow intervals.  

“About the hauntings?” When his attention traveled from the notebook to you, it finally clicked. Miya Atsumu – pro volleyball player. The realization tempted you to pound your forehead with the edge of your palm.

“Yeah, I’m a journalist. Star here was just telling me about her experience with Haru.” His question about your work returned your mind to the task at hand. Gesturing towards the bartender with the pen nestled between two fingers, a soft laugh was exhaled. Right. You were on a mission tonight to gain an audience with the ghosts of Angel Inn.

“Haru?” Atsumu narrowed his brows, the smile on his lips slipping away into a frown. Who was Haru?

“The ghost kid who haunts this place?” Adjusting yourself on the seat, excitement sparkled in your eyes. It was at this point that Atsumu realized that you were the polar opposite of him – you were seeking a paranormal experience, whereas he simply wanted a burger.

“Well shit. Didn’t know he had a name.” The setter propped an elbow onto the wooden counter, directing artificial laughter to leave his lips.

“They call him that because he apparently looks like the child who was murdered here.” A knowing wiggle was given to your eyebrows. While he may have sought to disguise his discomfort with the topic, it quickly dawned on you that MSBY’s setter was afraid of ghosts.

“Right. So lemme get this straight, you came here willingly? You want to see a ghost?” His eyelids fell into a quizzical slit. He knew the answers to those questions, and still was foolish enough to vocalize them.

“Yeah. I think it would be fun.”

And there it was. Confirmation that you were less than sane.

“Not if they try to kill ya.” There was a bitter edge to his comment, earning him a puzzled titter.

“I doubt a four-year-old ghost is going to kill me.” A shake to your head accompanied the reassurance. His anxieties were rooted in foolish assumptions, but you found the pout on his lips to be oddly adorable. “But if you’re scared, you can sit with me and I promise if a ghost comes, I’ll do all the talking.” An eyelid was then dipped into a wink, which prompted the blonde to break into a laugh.

“Yer the second person to offer to protect me.” Embarrassment flooded his stomach with bees, instead of butterflies. Yet he refused to lower this façade, with laughter continuing to drip from his mouth.  

“Hey, we all have our fears. You can protect me if a spider appears. Deal?” The arrangement prompted you to offer out your pinky to solidify the verbal contract.

“Yah. Okay. Deal.”  Atsumu curled his pinky around yours, and the smallest touch had calmed the insects inside of him. Maybe you weren’t that bad, even if you were a little crazy.

“I’m l/n, f/n, by the way.”

“I’m Miya, Atsumu.”

The following hour contained various conversations, ranging from past paranormal experiences to locker-room gossip. Atsumu munched away at the plate of appetizers while you supplied him with stories of your childhood. He was beginning to piece together why you were so keen on communicating with the ghostly residences of the Angel Inn. You were halfway through another story when his attention drifted onto a figure in the corridor behind you.

“Err. L/n. Did ya notice the small child staring at us? Please tell me ya see it too.” It was never his intention to lock stares with the almost transparent being that was beckoning him over. The poor male choked on the fry in his mouth, and then dove for a glass of water.

“Hm? Where?!” Spinning around on the seat, you attempted to attain a visual of what had frightened the blonde. To your disappointment, there was no sign of a young child. “I think it ran away. I’m gonna follow it.” The announcement of your plans was followed by a little fist pump in the air. If Haru wanted a playmate, you were certainly available.

“Yer gonna follow the ghost child? Can we talk about this?” After administering a cough to clear his throat, the setter prepared his best impression of a puppy-dog, hoping it would convince you to abandon your endeavours.

“You don’t have to come with me, Miya. I’ll meet you back here when I’m done.” With laughter dancing up your throat, you settled onto your feet then presented a bright beam in the setter’s direction. Atsumu was appreciative of your efforts to reassure him, though he would refuse to allow you to leave without him.

“No. It’s too dangerous to go alone, take this.” Before you could question what he was referring to, the male intertwined his fingers with yours then casted his gaze aside shyly. “Alright. Now ya can go.”

“That was kinda corny and kinda cute. I’ll accept it.” The inside of your cheek was bit as you pushed to conceal the happiness the action brought you. For someone who was notorious for being a ‘bad boy’, he was ridiculously sweet. The circumstances surely called for an eerie chill to fill your bones, and yet warmth engulphed every inch of your skin.

The quest to find Haru was unsuccessful on the lower level. It was only when you proceeded up the staircase did you hear a strange giggle from one of the hallways. It appeared that you had accepted a game of hide and seek with the dead. When you tugged on Atsumu’s hand to indicate that you desired to follow the noise, a low whine vibrated inside of his throat.

“This is exactly what a couple does in those horror films before they get killed. Haven’t ya learned anything from Hollywood?” Despite his warnings and the anxiety swarming his insides, he trailed behind you closely, refusing to release your hand.

“Shh, Miya.” To drown out the laughter threatening to depart, you sunk your teeth into your bottom lip. The sound of varied giggles increased in volume until you reached room 204. What was strange about the guestroom was that the door was cracked open. Based on your research, each of the hotel rooms were said to be double locked. What made the circumstances significantly worse was that 204 was the room where the murders occurred… Not that you planned on sharing any of this information with the blonde male shivering behind you.

“L/n, I am begging ya.” He applied a bit of pressure against your hand, and regretted his decision to accompany you when he knew what was lurking behind the barrier would not be pleasant.

“Just a little peek, and we can go.”

You should have retreated when tiny needles prickled your palm as you ushered open the door, but you were far too stubborn to leave yet. And nothing could prepare you for the horrific sight that awaited you. In the center of the room stood a four-year-old boy with blood splattered across his face and a single hole penetrating his chest. His injured state did not stop the apparition from smiling ear to ear, and frankly that only added an additional layer of horror. Beside you Atsumu blinked wide eyes, unsure how to react to what had melted into view.

“No. Nope. No. We’re done here.” Releasing your hand, the setter scooped you into his arms, then began down the hallway before rushing down the stairs. He continued to utter his denial to the situation and refused to stop until reaching the parking lot outside.

“Miya!” Maybe it was his reaction that prompted laughter to erupt from inside you, or maybe you were terrible at handling distress. But you could not contain the melody that brought your chest to rise and fall, even after he returned you to your feet.

“We are not goin’ back in there. No.” The setter raked his fingers through his hair roughly, struggling to regain his composure. Did he really just see that? More importantly, why didn’t you listen to his warnings? And why were you laughing?! “How aren’t ya scared?!”

“I express my fear through laughter?” Your shoulders were pushed into a shrug as you delivered him a sheepish smile. Disbelief led the setter to lift a finger in your direction, communicating that he required a minute to accept this explanation.

“How about I get my things, then you and I go can grab some hot chocolate for your nerves.” Seconds after the suggestion was posed, you took his hand that was extended forward, cupping it with both of your palms. This was certainly not how you expected the evening to unfold. How could you have known that you would meet someone so fascinating and sweet as Atsumu while writing an article on a haunted motel? But you were glad you did. Not only did you secure details to an incredible story, you also thoroughly enjoyed yourself. It had been a while since you laughed this much – you missed it.

“Yah fine. Jus’ don’t bring back any uninvited guests with ya.” A dramatic sigh was blow out by the male to illustrate his exhaustion. If he saw another spirit today, he doubted his fragile little heart would survive.  

“Oh, you mean like Haru?” Allowing your hands to drop to your side, you retreated a step away from him, prior to lowering an eyelid into a mischievous wink. The mention of the spirit’s name brought Atsumu to grimace. “I’m joking. I’ll see if his sister is available instead.”

“L/n! Stop!” 

The whining of your name had never sounded more endearing, and for the first time this evening, you accepted that maybe just maybe...you weren’t the sanest.

Taglist: @newfriendjen @haikyuufairy @bringmelily @4fterh0urs @shegrewupwithoutafather @chocolaterumble @aquariarose @tsukkismamagucci @yourstarvic​ 

[meat-husband]

Heyo! This is my first ask! I'm just really curious how different type of writers interpret our favorite slashers! My ask! How would Michael Myers (other slashers) be with a cute and innocent S/O IF IT'S OKAY can we get a REAL SERIOUS and scary Verizon of our babies!! Again no rush, do what you loveeeeee

Sometimes you just need a big murder man to sling you over their shoulder and drag you into the woods :/

Brahms

Absolutely going to abuse your goodwill for his own needs. You’re kind, helpful and almost naive, and all of these things will make it that much easier for him to worm his way into your affections, through whatever means necessary. He is not concerned with you actually loving him and staying to care for him out of that love - he’s perfectly happy to play pretend, keeping you in line with a combination of threats and petulant whining.

He wants affection. He’ll crawl into your bed at night, quietly insisting that you pet his hair and hold him until he falls asleep. Over time you start to do these things without him asking, knowing just from the way he approaches you that he’s come looking for your gentle touch. 

He knows how easy it is for you to befriend someone, which is why he limits your time away from home as much as he can. Whatever needs to be done can be accomplished with phone calls and home deliveries, where he can pull the cord if he thinks you’re enjoying yourself too much. Any unfortunate visitors that so much as say hello in too friendly of a tone run the risk of not making it off the property.

Because he’s very much aware that you’re staying there against your will, attempts at escape are almost expected. He’s still going to be furious, but he will have plans ready ahead of time to make sure that you don’t make it too far.

The most effective thing he can use against you is any hope you might have of helping him. He’ll push you to the end of your rope, when you’re ready to give up and make a break for it, then lure you back in with a not so heartfelt plea for you to stay. 

Michael

He keeps an eye on you for a long time before making a move. Maybe he’s just tired of waiting or maybe you’re getting too close to someone else, but he goes pretty quickly from ‘peeking through your windows’ to ‘in your house, waiting at the end of your bed for you to wake up and scream’.

But just because he has some sort of twisted interest in you doesn’t mean you can get out of it unscathed. He treats you like any other hunt at first, which means you have a good few hours of being chased down before you realize that his intentions aren’t to murder you.

You can scream and kick all you like, but once he’s decided that he owns you, that’s pretty much the end of it. He expects you to fall in line quickly though, and he’ll be as mean as he needs to for you to realize that you’re not getting away. 

Even once he’s got you firmly under his control, he doesn’t stop reminding you of it. He watches you from a distance when you leave the house, a looming reminder that one small misstep will have everyone around you killed in retaliation.

He can show some affection, though it’s usually more than a little brutal. Things taken from the homes, or bodies, of his victims, are common gifts presented to you after a kill. 

Bubba

You start out as a sort of pet, something he’s allowed to keep only because no one thinks he’ll manage to keep you alive for more than a few weeks. He’s a sucker for the timid way you look at him, interpreting your fear as a cute, but shy, demeanor. 

He isn’t allowed to care for you until the rest of his chores are completed, but sometimes when the house is empty, he’ll sneak into your room. It’s more of a treat for him to feed and dress you than a task. 

You aren’t allowed out of your room, but that’s another rule that he’ll break if given the opportunity. He’ll sneak you downstairs to eat in the kitchen or outside to sit in the sun, always happy to see how grateful you are to be allowed these small freedoms. He loves having you rely on him to provide the things that make you happy. 

If you use these excursions as an escape route, though, they’ll end immediately. He’s more worried than anything when he discovers that you’re gone, but once you’re back where you belong, he’ll be angry. Tighter restraints and a closer watch kept on you during the day will prevent you from trying it again. 

He likes to spoil you, giving you extra food when no ones around to notice, and dressing you up in the pretty clothes he finds on victims. A lot of time is spent being dressed up, hair brushed out and face smudged with sloppy makeup, and you always get a little treat for behaving well. 

Thomas

Thomas craves kindness from others, but he isn’t used to actually receiving it, which will instantly upgrade you from dinner to potential family member. He doesn’t trust it at first, but so long as you continue to provide soft, kind words and shaky smiles, he’ll keep you separated from the less fortunate catches as long he can.

When it comes down to it, he’ll make an effort to keep you off the dinner table, and to your surprise the family is very happy about his sudden interest in you. You find yourself being made to choose between being killed or becoming Tommy’s responsibility, and it’s not as easy a choice as it seems.

He doesn’t like it when you’re obviously frightened, trembling and crying even after the saw has cut off, and he’ll do his best to comfort you. He treats you almost like a skittish animal at first, approaching you slowly and sliding a dirty hand through your hair. He never seems to catch on to the fact that he is the thing that frightens you, not the noise.

He spends most of his time downstairs, so that’s where you end up as well. Occasionally you stay upstairs, helping with other housework, but most often you get carried downstairs right after meals, set up on a little makeshift bed where he can keep an eye on you. He sits with you between his chores, pulling you up against his side with one big arm and keeping you in place against him.

You might not warm up to the cooking right away, but he isn’t going to let you skip meals. If you don’t eat on your own, he’ll insist, forcing small bites of meat into your mouth until you successfully keep them down. He brings you food as often as he can, usually letting you eat whatever you want from his plate before he eats himself and he’s careful to make sure that you actually swallow all the food you take.

Jason

He has a big protective instinct anyways and with someone who plays up to the urge to care for and protect them, he’ll be unstoppable. But what might start out as a desire to keep you safe will quickly become an overwhelming need to just keep you. He sees how soft you are, how gentle, and he wants it all for himself.

He isn’t mean on purpose, but he isn’t used to caring for anyone else, let alone a normal human who is more delicate than he is. His hands are rough when they touch you and leave bruises even when he tries to be gentle. You flinch away from him sometimes and even though he understands why, he can’t help but be angry when it happens.

Right from the beginning, it’s established that you have to ask for what you want. He does his best to allow you as much freedom as he can, letting you out onto the porch to sit in the sun or following behind as you walk a short path around the cabin. But he can’t always let you do as you please, often denying you access to anything out of a certain distance from the cabin, and never when he isn’t with you.

Any attempt to leave is met with a frightening amount of rage. He doesn’t hurt you, but you can’t help but be afraid that he might when you get caught sliding open an unlocked window. He’ll lock the bedroom door if he has to and you don’t get another chance to sneak out of a window after he nails them all shut.

He’s very affectionate, pulling you into his lap and just sitting with you, on the couch or outside in the grass. He’s content to do all the work, petting your hair and pressing the mask against your cheek in a half kiss, but he’ll be overjoyed if you so much as settle against his chest or sigh while he strokes your hair.

Vincent

Someone who’s too polite/nervous/naive to tell him he’s being creepy? Perfect match. He’s a romantic, or what he thinks is romantic, which really just comes across as passive aggressive and unsettling. Any sort of rejection will make him cold and angry, so you’ve got to play along if you want to keep him happy.

He sort of just skips over the whole beginning portion of the relationship and jumps straight to ‘we’re a couple and you’re mine’, even though it’s only been a week. He likes to stay close to you as much as he can, keeping you in the room while he works and curling up in the same bed when he sleeps.

Very jealous of anything that manages to catch your attention for any amount of time. You rely on him to bring you things, mainly books, to keep yourself entertained in the house, but he’ll refuse to if he’d rather you spent the time with him. He’ll whittle down your options until you have to pay attention to him - ideally, you’ll sit around all day waiting for him to show up and keep you company.

He might give up eventually if you were loud and angry, fighting him every step of the way, but your quiet, resigned attitude keeps him hoping that you’re not as disinterested as it sometimes seems. He does his best to keep you happy, to show you how well he can care for you, and he knows that one day his efforts will be rewarded. 

He takes any attempt to leave very personally. It’s one of the only times you’ll see him truly angry, a firm grip on your arm as he drags you back into the house. The anger only lasts as long as it takes for him to wear himself out, breaking things in the basement and throwing supplies around the room, but afterwards he’s very depressed. He’ll crawl over to you, forcing his head into your lap and begging you to tell him what he’s done wrong.

[bard-llama]

Phillipa, again in Vergen, learns that Saskia wants to marry for love (and maybe a little as a political statement) Iorveth: "Well, we have to find a way to gain some political benefit out of it. At least he is not Stennis, though..."

OH GOD NOT STENNIS!!! I mean, I usually kill the fucker anyway, even though I don't think Geralt would let him die, canonically. BUT knowing that he never faces ANY punishment in canon, I let the fucker die.

But for canon, I do have a WiP where, post-Witcher 3, Iorveth recruits Roche to help him murder war criminals (sans themselves) who profitted off of others' suffering. He figures they need to work their way up to King Stennis of Aedirn. I know that's not what this ask is about, but I love this part, so I'm gonna include a snip under the cut.

Anyway, Philippa - she would 100% find a way to bilk their marriage for all its worth.

So I’m gonna include 2 snips from the WiP whose working title is “Becoming Terrorists Together” 

You know what? Fuck it. Here’s 90% of the whole WiP lmao Seriously, there’s only like, half a page after this.

When Nilfgaard dictated terms that actually favored you after they literally tore a swath across the continent, a reasonable person would listen.

Vernon Roche was not a reasonable person. In point of fact, he typically enjoyed spitting on reasonable people. Especially if they were Nilfgaardian.

Unfortunately, no one asked him his opinion. In fact, there was very little asking going on at all.

“What do you mean, ‘congratulations, you’re in charge now’!?” Roche bellowed. He had a very good bellow, developed from years and years of yelling orders over the battlefield. 

Emhyr var Emreis, Emperor of the Nilfgaardian Empire, King of Cintra, Lord of Metinna, Ebbing, and Gemmera, Sovereign of Nazair, Temeria, and Vicovaro, and Overlord of Aedirn, Redania, and Toussaint was not impressed. “I mean, congratulations. You’ve successfully managed a Free Temeria. Now you have to rule it.”

Roche sputtered. First off, ‘Free Temeria’ was a helluva way to say ‘Temeria, Protectorate of Nilfgaard’. Secondly, “I’m not a ruler.”

“Aren’t you? Shame,” Emhyr said tonelessly. He didn’t look up from the report he was reviewing. “What’s the problem? Isn’t this everything you’ve been fighting for?”

Roche gnashed his teeth together. Unlike a certain former intelligence operative, Roche’s goal had never been to rule. Why the fuck would he want to do that!? Roche was a behind the scenes kind of guy. He most certainly was not the guy to wear the crown.

Also, he’d seen firsthand how much paperwork the guy with the crown had to do. No thank you.

“I don’t know how to run a country,” he growled.

“Then you’re in for a sharp learning curve,” Emhyr shrugged. “I’d get started if I were you. Your swearing in ceremony is in an hour.”

“My fucking what?”

“Your swearing in as the Imperial High Commissioner of Temeria, Administrator of Mahakam, Governor of Ellander, and Presiding Overseer of the Northern Imperial Capital of Vizima, of course.”

Roche gaped in horror. “There’s no way in fuck that I’m becoming – that.”

“Oh?” Emhyr raised a single eyebrow. “Would you prefer that I assign a Nilfgaardian administrator?”

Roche grit his teeth. If Temeria were ruled by a Nilfgaardian still sore about the war efforts, then Temeria’s people would be subjected to harsh treatment, and that was the opposite of everything he’d worked for, dammit.

Still… ruling Temeria? Him!? And that fucking title – no way was he keeping that.

Ah hell, he was going to agree, wasn’t he? Emhyr played him too damn well, knew that Roche wouldn’t be able to say no.

He pursed his lips, frowning deeply. “What exactly would I have to do?”

Emhyr smirked, eyes still focused on the report in front of him. Roche had never wanted to stab anyone quite so badly in his life.

Forty-five minutes later, he was dressed in absurdly expensive Temerian blue robes and three maids were attempting to remove his chaperon.

“Sir, you are to be sworn in as the ruler of an Imperial protectorate! You must look dignified.” Emhyr’s chamberlain insisted.

“I shaved, didn’t I?” Roche shrugged. What was it with Nilfgaardians and beards, anyway? Who really cared if he had a five o’clock shadow?

“You did, sir. But I am afraid they absolutely cannot place your crown over a chaperon. So if you would remove it–”

“Wait, wait, I don’t need a fucking crown!”

“It is Nilfgaardian tradition, sir. Every Imperial Representative has been sworn in with a crown. The people expect a crown. You simply must wear it, I’m afraid.” Mereid, the chamberlain, somehow managed to look innocent and helpful, even as he nodded for the maids to grab at his chaperon again. 

“The people expect an actual fucking ruler,” Roche muttered, dodging the maids. “Chaperons are traditional headwear amongst Temerian nobility. If anything, it’s more dignified to wear it!”

Mereid’s eyes narrowed and Roche felt a prickle of fear at the base of his spine. This was a man who even the Emperor deferred to. He was not to be messed with.

But dammit, did it have to be the chaperon?

“Sir,” Mereid began, his tone icy. “I must ask that you refrain from further struggling and remove the hat.” His eyes looked exactly like Ves’s three seconds before she knifed someone.

Roche removed the chaperon. 

As casually as if he hadn’t just won a protracted battle, Mereid snapped his fingers. “Tend to his hair,” he ordered, and the maids immediately launched themselves at Roche again.

It took every bit of control he had not to bolt. 

Ten minutes later, his hair was slicked back with a truly ridiculous amount of oil to tame his curls. Combined with his undercut, it looked absolutely ridiculous, but apparently Mereid was pleased.

“Now,” Mereid clapped, “we must proceed to the throne room.”

Roche blinked. “There’s not like, actually going to be an audience for this, is there?”

Mereid gave him a look. “The purpose of a coronation is for it to be witnessed, sir.”

“Ah fuck, Ves is never gonna let me forget this,” he groaned. 

“It shall be forever memorialized, of course,” Mereid said casually. “The court painter is already working on your portrait.”

“Oh my gods, I hate everything.”

“Shall we depart, sir?” Mereid gestured to the door in a way that clearly suggested that it was not a question.

Roche glanced at his reflection in the mirror and thought of this being how he was remembered. “Fuck,” he grunted. Nonetheless, he followed Mereid when the chamberlain started out of the room.

Ves laughed at him, of course. She didn’t even have the courtesy to hold it in until after the ceremony. Instead, Roche had to listen to her cackle as Emhyr fucking var Emreis slowly lowered the crown of the King of Temeria onto his head.

Despite what Ves later claimed, he did not tear up at all when Foltest’s crown came to rest on his brow.

“People of Temeria,” Emhyr proclaimed grandly, “I present to you, the Imperial High Commissioner of Temeria, Administrator of Mahakam, Governor of Ellander, and Presiding Overseer of the Northern Imperial Capital of Vizima, Commander Vernon Roche!”

Roche felt vaguely like throwing up even as he stood and faced the scattered applause.

––

A month later, Roche did not want to set everything on fire any less than he had from the start. If anything, the urge had only gotten stronger with each paper he signed. 

He was also, somewhat disappointingly, actually pretty decent at ruling a country. Temeria was doing better than it had since the war had started, and the economy was projected to be back at the level King Foltest had achieved by the end of the year.

Roche still hated it.

With a heavy sigh, he took off the crown and reverently placed it on a cushion. He would love to just be able to toss it aside when it got too heavy on his head, but it was Foltest’s crown. He couldn’t treat it with anything but the appropriate amount of solemnity and respect.

His robes, on the other hand. 

Roche tore off the ridiculously heavy clothing as quickly as possible, leaving his hair a rat’s nest above his head. Then he headed for the one luxury he actually appreciated – the huge opulent bathtub. It was truly ridiculous – made from polished copper, it was inlaid with mother of pearl edging and was everything he hated about rich people – and also really, really nice to soak in.

Once the tub was steaming, Roche slid down until the surface of the water tickled his ears. The tub was deep and he let himself relax into the heat, tilting his head back and letting out a long sigh. The stresses of a life he’d never wanted began to sluice off of him with the water and he rolled his shoulders back against the side of the tub, stretching his neck with a yawn.

When he opened his eyes, he encountered dark red fabric and an olive green eye about three inches from his nose. It took his brain a half-second to process what he was seeing and then Roche found himself screaming, high pitched and shrill, as he grasped frantically at his chaperon to cover himself with.

Jerking back at his scream, the elf wanted in every northern kingdom and Nilfgaard blinked at him. Iorveth, somehow hanging from the ceiling, just stuck a finger in one ear and grimaced at the noise.

“Stop screaming, it’s me,” Iorveth said, offering him a bar of soap as if the leader of the Scoia’tael interrupting his bath wasn’t reason enough to yell.

“What the fuck!?” Roche yelped. “How the fuck did you even get in here!?”

Iorveth shrugged, still hanging upside down. “Your security needs work.”

Roche sputtered. “Why the fuck are you here!?”

“Why, to pay respects to the new Imperial High Commissioner, Administrator, Governor, Overseer, and Commander, of course” Iorveth smirked, mischief sparkling in the eye that was still far too close to him. 

Roche poked Iorveth’s forehead with his pointer finger and pushed him away. “Ever heard of space? Privacy? Not being a shithead?”

Iorveth snorted, and did some sort of complicated flip through the air that left him standing next to Roche’s bathtub. Roche frowned. On the one hand, he didn’t particularly want to be naked and unarmed with Iorveth in the vicinity. On the other hand, he literally just got in, and it would be such a shame to waste the hot water.

Decided, he crossed his arms and glared at Iorveth. “What the fuck, Squirrel?”

Iorveth ignored his glare, poking around his room instead. “There’s no way you aren’t hating every minute of playing king.” The elf flicked the tip of Foltest’s crown.

Roche scowled. “Why are you here? And why aren’t you – you know – killing me?”

“Even death isn’t enough to escape Nilfgaard,” Iorveth said.

Roche’s forehead wrinkled and he squinted at Iorveth. Iorveth continued to search through his room, though the elf considerately stayed within Roche’s sightline.

Roche was suspicious.

“There were rumors you’d died,” he finally said.

Iorveth shrugged. “Not the first time. What, did you believe them this time?”

“No,” he found himself admitting. “Only I’m allowed to kill you.”

Iorveth glanced back at him with a smirk. “Don’t seem to be trying at the moment.”

“Water’s still hot,” Roche grumbled. Iorveth muffled a laugh and Roche was hit by the utter strangeness of chatting casually with fucking Iorveth while sitting in a ridiculously fancy bathtub that he only had because he was currently ruling Temeria.

What the fuck was his life?

Gods, the bathtub really was fantastic, though. He slumped back against the tub and let himself enjoy it, muscles slowly unwinding. If Iorveth killed him, the elf would be doing him a favor. But Iorveth was right – even in death, he probably wouldn’t be able to avoid fucking Nilfgaard.

Roche hadn’t realized he’d closed his eyes until he opened them to see Iorveth staring at him again, though fortunately from much further away this time. “What?”

“This ruler thing isn’t allowed to kill you before I do,” Iorveth said eventually, turning back to poke at the shit decorating Roche’s room. “Fucking shit, your shoulders look tight enough to chop wood on.”

Roche snorted, shrugging shoulders that really were painfully tense. “What, are you offering a massage?”

Iorveth dropped the trinket he’d picked up and fumbled catching it, graceless in a way Roche had never seen an elf be before. Then Iorveth turned to him with a wide eye and what Roche almost thought was a blush. Roche’s eyebrows rose slowly.

“Actually,” Iorveth cleared his throat, “I was thinking of a more violent type of stress relief.”

“What?”

“Nilfgaard wants to quell all unrest in their lands, so they’re not going to prosecute any war criminals. Which means they’re fair game.”

Roche blinked at him. “Iorveth,” he said slowly, “you do realize that technically we are both war criminals?”

Iorveth just shrugged. “‘Least we haven’t gotten rich off of other people’s suffering.”

That was true. At least he and Iorveth had fought for a cause, even if what they did was monstrous. People driven by pure greed disgusted Roche, and he knew there was no shortage of greedy predators preying on those devastated by the war.

“Are you… inviting me to go murder assholes with you?” Roche asked in disbelief.

Iorveth tilted his head, shrugging again. “Essentially.”

Roche sucked on his lower lip. It was a terrible idea. He was leader of a country now, he couldn’t just swan off and do whatever he wanted. And what would they do, run around like vigilantes, punishing the cruel?

That actually sounded really fun. When was the last time he’d had fun? Definitely before fucking Emhyr’s grand fucking idea.

He pursed his lips. It really would be an awful decision, but gods, for the first time in ages, he actually felt interested in something. Excited about something.

“Huh,” Roche huffed, “I don’t think I’ve killed anyone in at least two months.”

Iorveth looked mildly impressed. “We could fix that.”

“It is definitely wrong to long to murder people,” he pointed out.

“Moralize later, dress now,” Iorveth said, picking through his wardrobe. “Where’s your armor? There’s no way you let them take it away in favor of these ridiculous things.” Iorveth held up a velvet brocade robe to support his point.

Roche laughed. Iorveth wasn’t wrong, after all. “Under the bed. Had to hide it from the chamberlain.”

Iorveth turned to the bed, an absurdy lavish four poster bed with chiffon draped ever so precisely around the bedframe. Laying on it felt like laying on a cloud.

Roche hated it. He usually slept on the floor instead. 

“We’re waiting until my bath is done to leave, though,” he said and Iorveth shot him a disbelieving look. “I can’t just waste the hot water,” Roche justified, flushing slightly. A lifetime of little money had taught him that nothing should be wasted. Baths didn’t cost him coin now, but old habits died hard.

“What, and I’m just supposed to wait for you?” Iorveth grumbled.

“Hey, no one invited you here,” Roche pointed out. “I don’t care what you do, but I’d recommend not getting caught at it. You’re still wanted… pretty much everywhere.”

Iorveth smirked proudly, “I know.”

Roche rolled his eyes, yawning and leaning back in the bath, stretching his neck from side to side. 

“That’s a gigantic bathtub,” Iorveth said, something contemplative in his tone.

“Uh huh,” Roche grunted.

“If you’re enjoying the hot water, I don’t see why I shouldn’t,” Iorveth said nonsensically, and Roche opened his eyes to stare.

“I’m sorry, what?”

Iorveth just arched an eyebrow and reached for the straps holding his weapons. 

“Are you fucking serious?” Roche asked in disbelief. It wasn’t that he objected, necessarily – years and years of military life had removed any shame he might’ve felt at being naked in front of his enemy. But naked and sharing a bath? “You know this is weird, right?”

Iorveth just snorted, now setting about removing his numerous weapons. Roche was a little impressed by how many the elf managed to fit on his body. “You, Vernon Roche, are currently ruler of Temeria. Is there any part of your life that isn’t weird nowadays?”

Roche opened his mouth to respond – and then closed it. Iorveth wasn’t wrong, after all. “Claiming to be part of my life?” he finally asked.

“Of course I am,” Iorveth said confidently, “I’m your nemesis and you’re mine.” 

Roche swallowed at that, watching as Iorveth removed his belt, gloves, and all the various straps that held his hodgepodge armor together. Apparently he was really doing this, really planning to join Roche in the bath.

Seriously, what was his life now???

Instead of thinking too hard about that, Roche cleared his throat, jerking his gaze away as Iorveth pulled his chainmail over his head. “So, this murder thing…”

“Mm?” 

“You have a hit list or something? Or were you just planning to run around until you found an appropriately irritating war criminal?”

“Wouldn’t be that hard,” Iorveth muttered. “Stennis of Aedirn is top of my hit list, but not necessarily the best place to start.”

Roche blinked. “Stennis… as in King Stennis?”

Iorveth shrugged, and in Roche’s memory, he could hear that brash voice easily declaring, king or beggar, what’s the difference?

Back then, Roche had had many opinions on the difference. The likes of King Foltest could hardly be compared to some beggar on the streets. Or even some whoreson who had somehow found his way into power.

Now? Now Roche had the blood of two kings on his hands, and really, what was a third?

“That will require careful planning. He’s probably got good security.”

Iorveth was silent for long enough for Roche to look at him again, and he flushed when faced with the sight of Iorveth’s bare chest, ribs visible and skin a handful of shades darker than Roche’s. Iorveth’s gambeson lay in a pile next to him, and the elf was currently working to remove his hose – only at Roche’s words, he’d apparently stopped to stare at Roche instead.

“What?” Roche asked, hoping the heat from the bath hid his blush. Why was he suddenly feeling awkward about nudity? It wasn’t like they hadn’t seen the worst of each other before. Who cared if there was a bit of skin on display?

His eyes caught on the peaks of Iorveth’s nipples, darker than Roche’s – almost the color of polished cedar. Roche bit his lip, feeling oddly fixated as Iorveth’s nipple hardened in the cool air under his gaze.

“I’d heard you killed kings now,” Iorveth said eventually, shifting enough to break Roche’s gaze and when Iorveth bent to remove his hose, Roche quickly turned away. His face and ears felt hot and he sank lower into the tub.

“Gods, I hope people aren’t going around gossiping about that,” he groaned. “Both were supposed to be fucking secret, dammit.”

Iorveth pursed his lips, staring at Roche. “You really did it,” he said slowly, and there was something in his voice that made Roche look at him. Standing naked with absolutely no shame, Iorveth frowned at Roche. “Radovid I get. You got a Free Temeria out of it, and even most dh’oine agree he was insane. But Henselt? Really?”

Roche cleared his throat, determinedly keeping his eyes trained on Iorveth’s face and not the miles of bare skin that lay in front of him. “He deserved it,” Roche grunted.

“He was a king,” Iorveth said, as if that explained everything. Roche frowned at him. “What did he do to drive you that far?”

Iorveth sounded genuinely curious and Roche swallowed. He didn’t really want to talk about this, didn’t really want to remember the way the Kaedweni king had stolen his family from him. He closed his eyes and grit his teeth, trying not to go back there. 

A touch on his shoulder startled him and Roche jerked around, blinking wildly as he realized that the touch had been Iorveth – what, comforting him? That was fucking weird. Still, Iorveth’s touch was cool against his slightly-overheated skin, and the look on the elf’s face was more akin to understanding than pity.

Roche supposed that was acceptable. He swallowed harshly and forced himself to answer, “he murdered my men.”

Iorveth inhaled sharply, clearly not having expected that. “Oh,” the elf murmured, obviously lost for words. 

Roche cleared his throat. “So, King Stennis…” he changed the subject, shifting in the tub to allow Iorveth room to climb in.

Iorveth was silent as he took the invitation and stepped into the bath, sighing softly at the touch of hot water. They sat facing away from each other, and the press of Iorveth’s back against his was oddly hypnotic. Roche found himself only able to focus on the places they touched – and the places they didn’t.

“I’m… sorry,” Iorveth eventually said.

Roche blinked, shaking himself out of his daze. “Why?”

Iorveth tapped his fingers against the side of the tub. “Enemies deserve respect,” he said. “The Blue Stripes were uncommon enemies – efficient and ruthless and well-led. I may not feel anything at their deaths – but they were your unit.”

Were. Roche swallowed roughly, digging his fingernails into his palms. “Let’s talk about Stennis,” he grunted forcefully. 

Iorveth sighed, and for a moment, Roche almost thought that Iorveth’s shoulders pressed against his more intentionally. Offering comfort again? What a strange thing for his nemesis to do.

“Why did you come to me?” he asked, not sure if he expected Iorveth to answer truthfully or not. 

Iorveth hummed. “We are remnants of a past age,” Iorveth said slowly. “Our skills are no longer needed nor wanted. Instead, we’re supposed to fit into nicer, less controversial boxes.” Roche could feel Iorveth shrug against him, “I’ve never been one to conform to societal expectations.”

Roche snorted, “yeah, no shit.”

Iorveth huffed in amusement. “I figured you probably hated all this as much as I do.”

Roche grunted in agreement. “The bathtub is nice, at least.”

Iorveth actually laughed, twisting around to face him. “It is. And yet, you still look tense enough to string a bow.”

Roche grumbled. He hadn’t really thought about how he’d left his back exposed to his nemesis, not until cool fingers hesitantly touched his shoulders. Inexplicably, he didn’t tense further, even though touch typically meant violence, especially coming from Iorveth.

Only Iorveth didn’t hurt him. Actually, Iorveth’s touch was gentle as he traced the line of the tattoo that spanned Roche’s shoulders. Roche shivered at the light scratch of Iorveth’s bow calluses, unsure why he was allowing this.

Except that it had been so very long since anyone had touched him in kindness and Roche couldn’t make himself pull away. If he was lucky, this wasn’t some sort of ruse to get him to let his guard down before Iorveth slit his throat.

Though really, Iorveth could kill him right here and now with little resistance – and yet, he continued to live and breathe. Instead, he felt Iorveth’s fingers dip under the surface of the water, continuing to trace the tree tattooed across his back, each branch a tribute to the men he’d lost. 

Roche swallowed, suddenly feeling the urge to cry. He pinched his index finger and thumb together tightly, letting the pressure ground him. 

“So,” he coughed. “King Stennis? Why do you want to kill him?”

“He poisoned the Dragonslayer and faced no consequences,” Iorveth said, a growl in his voice. His fingers traced back up the trunk of the tree on Roche’s back and then he dug his thumbs into Roche’s traps.

Roche gasped sharply, the pressure a painful ache until his muscles slowly unwound under Iorveth’s touch. 

“Seriously,” Iorveth said casually, as if he weren’t apparently giving Roche a shoulder massage. “How are you even able to move right now? You feel like a brick shithouse.”

“Gee, thanks,” Roche snorted, wincing slightly as the heels of Iorveth’s palms kneaded between his shoulder blades.

Then he felt the moment his tension released, and he practically melted into Iorveth’s touch, feeling looser and more relaxed than he had in… fuck, who even knew how long?

Iorveth continued massaging his shoulders, moving up to circle his thumbs against Roche’s neck and dipping down to work at his back on occasion. But Roche wore his stress in his shoulders and Iorveth spent the most time there, fingers strong and agile, pushing and pulling at his muscles with surprising ease.

Roche sighed deeply, closing his eyes and trying to remember the thread of the conversation. Right. Stennis. And the Dragonslayer. He poisoned her? Really?

“I thought the Dragonslayer was alive and well and running the only country that hasn’t succumbed to Nilfgaard?”

“She is,” Iorveth responded, voice low. It added a sense of privacy to their conversation that made Roche feel oddly special. “Geralt and the fucking sorceress healed her. The peasants wanted to make Stennis pay, but apparently Gwynbleidd’s morality won’t allow for a lynching. The nobles, of course, don’t care if Stennis is a poisoner, because he’s royal, so…”

“So now it’s left to you to get revenge?”

“Some might call it justice.”

Roche turned his head to look at Iorveth over his shoulder. “Somehow I doubt anyone would picture either of us as agents of justice.”

“Who cares what others think?” Iorveth shrugged, sliding his thumbs up the nape of Roche’s neck. 

Roche turned back around and let him. “Most people,” Roche answered, leaning into Iorveth’s hands. 

“You don’t,” Iorveth said, voice utterly assured. “As long as it’s for Temeria.”

Roche huffed. He wasn’t wrong, but still. “I think I’m supposed to care now. The whole ruling thing and all?”

“You hate it.”

“Of course I fucking hate it. That’s probably why fucking Emhyr forced it on me.”

Iorveth hummed in agreement, massaging Roche’s neck and the base of his skull. It felt ridiculously good and Roche felt his body melting into Iorveth’s touch, putty in the elf’s hands.

Iorveth could have done anything and Roche wouldn’t have been able to stop him. He could slit Roche’s throat, could drown him in the bath, could break his neck, hell, Iorveth could even suffocate him in a chokehold.

The elf did none of that. Instead, when the water began to cool, Iorveth slid his hands down Roche’s neck and across his shoulders, squeezing them briefly. Then, cool lips pressed against the curve where Roche’s neck met his shoulder. By the time his gasp found voice, Iorveth was already pulling away, rising gracefully to his feet and stepping out of the tub, stealing Roche’s towel.

“There’s a Redanian,” Iorveth said casually, as if he hadn’t just kissed Roche. Roche gaped at him, but Iorveth didn’t appear to notice as he began dressing. “Former general, hoarded medical supplies and food and charged exorbitant prices for them. Located in the Outskirts of Vizima, so figured we could start with that.”

Roche swallowed, belatedly pulling himself out of the tub. Iorveth helpfully passed him the already-wet towel and Roche took it with a grumble. “What’s the target’s name?”

“Arnold of Denesle,” Iorveth answered, still acting like absolutely nothing out of the ordinary had happened. He’d even pulled Roche’s armor from under the bed and laid it out for him.

Roche sucked on his lip as he dried off quickly, reaching for his armor. Technically, he supposed, a kiss wasn’t that much stranger than the rest of this situation – i.e. Iorveth having snuck into the royal palace, joined him in the bath, and even given him a massage. Maybe Iorveth was playing some sort of mind game with him?

If that was the case, Roche should really push it from his thoughts. As he got dressed, he tried to do so – but there was something about the way Iorveth’s chapped lips had brushed against his skin that had him shivering, the spot still tingling.

Sometimes, he felt he knew his nemesis well enough to know how Iorveth thought. Other times, it was very clear that as much as he’d studied Iorveth, he had no idea what went through Iorveth’s head.

If Roche’s tattoo sounds familiar, it’s ‘cause I used the same concept in How to Fluster an Elf. This WiP was actually written first, though.