#hj fanfics

[zeroeightzeroone]

i'm proud of you - han jisung

love collection

genre: hurt/comfort, fluff

synopsis: after a long day and an even longer past couple of weeks, jisung needs you

pairings: fem!reader (infp) x idol!han jisung (istp)

warnings: ji is stressed

wc ~2.2k | moodboard

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ｡･:*:★,｡･:*:･ﾟ

j.one<3: i need you i'm coming over i'll be there in 30

you: i'll unlock the door in 25

taking into account how busy jisung has been the past couple of weeks and the way he's texting you, something is going on with him.

its that time of the year when stray kids are preparing for their comeback and for the past couple of weeks, along with the other members' schedules, jisung's schedule has been packed to the brim. he's been in and out of the recording studio, the dance practice room, attending interviews and pre-recordings to prepare with the rest of the boys, basically working non-stop.

of course, jisung loves his job and is grateful for the opportunity to write, produce and release his music–something he is very passionate about–to the world. but at the end of the day, much like any other job, it can pile up and become incredibly overwhelming. sometimes, you have to take a step back to breathe and return to a better headspace.

along with your boyfriend's schedule, yours has also been packed to the brim. thus, neither of you had the opportunity to spend too much time with the other over the past couple of weeks. the extent of your time together consisting of short, sweet text messages throughout the day, if you were lucky a short phone call before bed to exchange goodnight's.

jisung has reached his limit, he's hit a breaking point. he knows that if he doesn't get at least one night to take a break he may go insane. he needs to take a step back, he needs to take a breather, he needs you.

being one-third of 3racha meant chan had the opportunity to see jisung a bit more than the others, which also meant he had the opportunity to see jisung's well-being take a critical hit and suffer as the days went on. seeing how the boys were exhausted mentally, physically, and emotionally, chan immediately went to the company to talk with their management and request they take–at the least–a day off.

despite jisung having a key to your apartment, you unlock the door twenty-five minutes before his expected arrival. and a little over five minutes later, he's standing outside your front door and softly knocking to notify you of his arrival. the knocks prompt you off the couch and onto your feet, making your way to the entrance as jisung shuts the door behind him.

your assumption that something is going on is only confirmed when jisung avoids your gaze while discarding his shoes, no words leaving his pouted lips. it's clear he isn't in the best place mentally or emotionally, while you aren't a hundred percent sure of the details, you do know that–much like his texts–he needs you and that you'll be there for him in any way possible.

now that his feet are only clad with his cotton socks, jisung takes a couple steps towards you and places a lingering kiss on your forehead, his shoulders relax the slightest bit as his hands find yours. when he pulls away, he's still avoiding your gaze, but being with him for as long as you have; you don't take it personally. hand in hand, jisung trails behind you as you walk through the apartment and into your bedroom. following quietly and waiting patiently whilst you approach the dresser, pulling out a pair of his sweatpants from the drawer of his clothes.

you turn to him, glancing down at his black denim jeans, "it'll be more comfortable? it's up to you though."

jisung extends his arms and takes the sweatpants out of your hands and into his own. he quickly changes out of the jeans, which are now in a pile on the floor and into the grey sweatpants, you turn to climb into your bed but jisung's hand is suddenly wrapped around your wrist, stopping you.

your head cocked in confusion, you stare at your boyfriend.

jisung, who came over clad in a black hoodie, quickly removes the thick fabric from his body. the white long-sleeved shirt he wears underneath rises along with the fabric before it slumps back in place once the hoodie is discarded. you watch jisung with curious eyes as he steps towards you, pulling the hoodie over your head, the fabric bunching up around your neck and shoulders.

he can definitely see the way your cheeks are burning up.

your boyfriend moves your arms around, pulling them through the sleeves before he adjusts the thick fabric around your body. a hum of satisfaction leaves him before he crawls into your bed and makes himself comfortable under the covers.

jisung loves you in his clothes, that fact stays consistent no matter how he's feeling.

snapping out of your daze, you follow suit and crawl under the covers next to jisung who chooses to be the small spoon today. his arms wrapped around your waist, his head resting on your stomach. you feel the way his body relaxes the slightest bit as he nuzzles into your side, pulling you impossibly closer to him. one of your hands ends up in his dark hair, gently carding through the shaggy locks whilst the other one gently caresses his cheekbone.

a wave of comfort washes over jisung at the feeling of your fingertips grazing his scalp, coupled with the feeling of your arms around his body, holding him close, your warmth radiating onto him as a trembling breath leaves his lips. once again, jisung nuzzles into your side but this time to his his face in the fabric of the hoodie. hiding the way his already glossy eyes brim with tears along his waterline, the warm droplets soaking up into the thick fabric. the first whimper that leaves jisung has you immediately holding him tighter, continuing to run your fingers through his hair and reminding him that you're here.

your heart aches at the sound of your boyfriend's cries.

being with jisung for as long as you have, you knew not to take his habit of avoiding your gaze personally. you're very familiar with his habit of avoiding direct eye contact with anyone when he's feeling down or particularly stressed out. you aren't entirely sure of the reason why, but you believe that what isn't seen in jisung's other facial expressions is shown in his eyes. thus, when he is upset or down, avoiding eye contact also means hiding the inner turmoil that is clearly present in his eyes.

with how observant you are, jisung became aware early on in your relationship that it didn't take you long to pick up on this habit of his. it's now something you look out for whenever jisung is feeling distant or in the dumps, it took a while but you eventually found a couple of methods that worked best when jisung fell into this distressed state.

over the years, you have become a lifeline in jisung's life. you are his place of comfort, a home where his heart belongs, where it feels safe. which is precisely why he avoids making eye contact with you in an emotionally sensitive state. the sight of your warm and welcoming eyes would result in an immediate breakdown. the way your eyes sparkle up at him, swimming with concern and a yearning for him would immediately break down his walls, allowing him to be vulnerable around you. allowing his emotions to spill out into your open arms, ready to be a pillar of support for him.

for the next couple of moments, you continue to run your fingers through jisung's hair as he holds your body close and cries into your side. when his sobs gradually become hiccups and sniffles, that's when you take the opportunity to say a couple of words.

"if you wanna talk about it, i'm here," you say softly, "if not, i'm still here."

you crane your head to look down at your boyfriend who moves his head to look up at you, his round eyes puffy and glossy, his eyelashes clumped together with tears. jisung nods, a small smile playing on his lips–one that's more genuine than the others he forced out earlier.

"thank you," he sniffles, his voice is the slightest bit raspy.

you shake your head, moving the hand that isn't in his hair to his cheek to wipe some of his tears. admiration bubbling up inside when jisung leans into your touch.

the both of you fall into a comfortable silence, relishing in the presence of your lover and the warmth that radiates off their body. a presence and a feeling that your busy lives have depraved you both of the past couple of weeks.

despite prolonged periods where you and jisung are deprived of physical affection from the other due to your busy schedules, being able to be under the other's touch, cradled in the other's arms for even just a few moments feels like a reward for all that's been accomplished in your separate lives. being in the arms of your lover exudes a feeling of comfort, and tranquillity, that eventually everything will fall into place, a feeling of reassurance that your hard work is paying off.

sometimes you find it crazy how a simple touch from jisung can turn everything upside down. you could be having a terrible day and he could pull you into his arms and all of a sudden your day ends on a high note.

jisung shares the same sentiment, after weeks of grinding through work that's been piling on and on, being with you, in your arms is just what he needed. you are just what he needs.

you watch with curiosity as jisung moves higher on the bed and onto his back. he locks eyes with you and extends his arms in your direction.

"i wanna hold my baby," he opens and closes his fists, beckoning you into his hold.

you hesitate for a moment, thinking you're here to comfort him. but your boyfriend notices your hesitation and takes it upon himself to pull you into his arms. you rest your cheek against his chest while he holds you tightly. you adjust your head and look up at your boyfriend, whose eyes are still puffy and slightly red. he scrunches his nose when he looks down at you, indicating that he's feeling much better than when he first arrived.

you giggle at his antics.

jisung places a hand on your cheek, much like you did earlier, and caresses your cheekbone gently. gazing down at you with clear adoration in his eyes, unbeknownst to your boyfriend, the corners of his lips tugging upwards as he looks down at you.

he sighs, "work's been a lot lately," you nod and he continues, "i want to make sure i'm putting my best foot forward and doing my best work but it's hard when there's so much going on. i don't wanna disappoint you, the other members, stay."

he takes a moment to think.

"at the same time, i know it's unrealistic to think i–or anyone really– could possibly please everyone. there's always gonna be people that aren't pleased with the things you do and that's life, right?"

your eyes scan over your boyfriend's face as he walks both you and himself through his thoughts.

"which is why i shouldn't be scared of disappointing people if i choose to take a break, to take care of myself when things get overwhelming," he sighs, "but at the same time it's so hard to break out of the mindset where taking breaks means not being productive, i'm so used to thinking that way, you know?"

you hum in acknowledgment, "i know, baby."

"at the very least, i realized sooner rather than later this time. i'm able to take a break earlier instead of further down the line."

"i'm proud of you for taking a much-needed break. you've been working so hard, love."

"thank you, my y/n," jisung's eyes sparkle down at you.

"i understand how you feel, i get like that sometimes to, which you know already," he nods, "i know how hard you work and stay knows how hard you work to give them and show them your best work."

you adjust the position you're lying in so you get a better view of jisung's face.

"i've seen the work you've put out and ones that you haven't yet, they're all amazing. absolute works of art and a testament of your hard work, passion and dedication to your craft."

your boyfriend's eyes dart away from yours as his cheeks flush, heart skipping a beat at your words. jisung always gets quite flustered when he hears kind words praising his work, but he gets particularly flustered when he hears them from you.

"you do your best when you also feel your best. it's definitely easier said than done to extend the compassion and value to yourself since we are, are own biggest critics. nevertheless, i'll be here to reassure you that stay would love to hear that you were able to rest and take breaks in the middle of working hard. i'll always be here to tell you that you're working so hard and are more than deserving of a break, to rest."

jisung leans down to place a kiss on your forehead, letting his lips linger for a moment before he pulls away with a lazy smile.

"you've been working so hard, you've been doing amazing. you're doing so well and i'm so proud of you, han jisung."

[sebastiannewai]

Cuddles | hjs

✿ joshua x reader

✿ idol!joshua x reader

✿ fluff, slight angst?

✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿

You're upset with Joshua again. Arguments like tonight's make you feel distant. Joshua's career keeps him away a lot, and when he's home, you just want to be close.

Sitting together on the couch, in the soft evening light, you couldn't keep it in any longer.

"Why don't you cuddle with me when I sleep?" The words came out, filled with longing and a bit of sadness.

Joshua looked at you with a softer expression. "I didn't realize... I thought you liked having your space. I didn't want to bother you."

You sighed, tears forming in your eyes. "It's not about space, Joshua. It's about feeling you there, even when I'm asleep."

He took your hand, his touch warm and comforting. "I'm sorry, y/n. I didn't know it meant so much to you."

You felt a mix of relief and longing. "It does, especially when you're so busy with work and tours. Sometimes, I just need to feel close to you, especially after a tough day."

Joshua pulled you close, holding you gently against him. His hug felt safe and warm. "I promise to make more time for us, even if it's just to cuddle while you sleep."

Snuggled up against him, you let out a happy sigh, feeling loved and cherished. "Thank you, Joshua. I love you."

"I love you more, y/n" he whispered softly.

As you lay there, enjoying the calm after making up, Joshua suddenly chuckled. "You know, I never realized I was missing out on all this prime cuddle time. From now on, I'm your official night time teddy bear."

You couldn't help but giggle, snuggling even closer. "My very own teddy bear? Can I dress you up too?"

Joshua grinned, his eyes twinkling playfully. "Only if you promise lots of cuddles in return."

And so, you drifted off to sleep, with a happy heart you know that tonight marked the start of a new tradition.

✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿

:)

[erisgekko]

um. have this (pre-fnaf2) lolmike

bcuz i binge-read the whole fic in three days

@inkspottie

[luna-lovegreat]

I love Legend sick fics because they all boil down to: "no amount of emotional stress will make him crack so let's give him a fever and see how that works"

[angelwoozi]

acouasm (hjs)

pairing: boyfriend!shua x afab!reader

summary: (n.) a ringing noise in your head — and it's just three words of promise whispered by yours truly during moments of sorrow, or moments of joy. the whisper also lives in the crevices of your mind during moments of pleasure, when he makes love to you, his true love.

genre: smut, pwp, est relationship, 18+

wordcount: 777 words

warnings: kissing, explicit unprotected penetrative sex, sappy love confessions, soft smut hehe.

note: nothing much, it's just soft sweet shua fucking reader deep. it's more feelings + imagery than sex but yeah. also, thankyou @multi-kpop-fanfics and @lovelyhan for reading it over and leaving wonderful comments 🤍

angelwoozi masterlist

"I love you."

"Can you not–" your sentence is broken by a whimper as it falls from your lips like a soft petal. Joshua's fingers trace the silhouette of your side and he thrusts into you, deep and slow. Your stomach coils at it, and you breathe slowly, pleasure building up inside you and rippling through your body.

"Can I not what?" he asks in a sigh, his voice breaking a little as your walls flutter around his length.

"Don't tell me you love me while you fuck me. It makes me melt faster." you close your eyes as he laughs low at your words, his sound ringing sweet in your ears and making your insides all his.

"But, I do love you," he pulls out with a groan making you tighten your hold around his neck, unconsciously bringing him closer to your panting form and your chest brushes with his, eliciting a new spark as your nipples touch his skin bathed in gold. He rests his forehead against yours, eyes finding yours as you drown in his which resemble a deep golden honey shade, the sunlight from the sheer curtains illuminating his face, before continuing, "and I love the way your eyes look at me whenever I say that."

It's like heaven's out to get you.

Your eyes roll back at his words, as he punctuates them by snapping his hips, making his cock being swallowed by your pussy. Your core flutters, coiling tight at the sweet intensity and your toes curl, if only a tad bit. There's a golden misty air about him, and it clings to your bare skin, seeping through your pores and running through you like oxygen, making you yearn for him more.

It's true – if only metaphorically, but there are stars in your eyes whenever he professes his love for you. Be it in between late night scrabble marathons or early morning coffee rush, be it through three squeezes while your hand is held in his when you hear something sorrowing or by the soft kiss he offers your forehead when you hear something happening – it's always made you look at him as if he hung up the stars and the moon in your dark, blank canvas of an universe.

His love is also present in the way his lips land at the edge of yours, a sure kiss, a promise, as his length drags slowly across your walls, bringing you closer to the edge – purely by the sheer intensity.

"Shua, I am clos-"

"I know, I know, my love." he cuts you off, his thrusts speeding up a little, but still making it sure to fuck you deep. There's an unsaid act of affection hanging like a thread, and he grabs it by kissing your lips, making you gasp in his mouth as he opens it up for his tongue. His pace works smooth, and quick as his lips dance across yours, asking you to join a ballet, like two swans putting up a show as they move across the lake in tandem, in grace.

You moan into his mouth, as it gets swallowed by his tongue when you feel yourself falling off the edge – an indication for him to know, now that he has rendered you speechless.

"It's okay, you can let go for me." he whispers against your lips, and his words and the sound of his skin slapping against yours, covered in a sheen of sweat – filthy, act as the final push for you as you come undone across his length, your orgasm overcoming you and your senses.

It's when you go into an overdrive, that you faintly register his thrusts getting sloppy. A while later, the spilling of his hot cum deep inside you, is what brings you back to your surroundings as he acknowledges you with a prolonged groan, his skin digging into yours. His cock stays inside you as he peppers your jaw with kisses, your skin feeling as if it's on fire.

"Stop clenching around me." he says and you snort – a delayed moan masking your amusement.

"I can't help it," you provide as you pull him towards you– him falling into you, but still smartly manouvering himself to save you from being crushed by him. The action of yours has him pulling out with a cringe, and laying on his side beside you, naked bodies intertwined to form one.

It's a little while later as you both revel in the afterglow during the setting afternoon that you utter the words that have been ringing in your head, ones that cause him to gift you the widest of his smiles.

"I love you."

— hello. it was the death of night when i wrote this, so idk loll. but i still hope y'all liked it !!

🌼 please reblog, comment or give feedback in any way possible as it's very much appreciated and i will love you more!! you can also send me asks 🤍

© angelwoozi. do not repost.

[sickiehugs]

When a character is feeling super sick and shitty but they don't have a fever, so they aren't taking it seriously or resting because to them, they aren't really sick unless there's visible proof. Maybe it comes from when they were growing up, and their family never took their illness seriously unless there was a fever. Maybe they would accuse them of lying to get out of things. So now, they worry if that really is the case. They work themselves to the bone and feel like they're going to collapse, but they aren't really sick unless they have a fever.

Bonus points if they have a partner who cares about their well-being, and as soon as they see them in the state they're in, they immediately make a fuss and insist that they rest. The character somehow feels good, even though they don't want their partner worrying, because someone is finally making it a big deal. It's finally real, it's finally serious.

[comecomeintomy-world]

joshua rec masterlist ★

(icons by @joshuaahong from her pinterest)

smau recs:

tom and jerry by @leewonkyeom

fluff recs:

solace by @shuahoonie (fave)

smut recs:

SUGAR SPICE AND EVERYTHING NICE (svt 95 line) by @starlightxsvt (fave)

sub joshua in a skirt by @/hannieehaee

city lights series by @hannieween

masterlist

[feralwetcat]

Sometimes *cracks knuckles* when you want something done *dramatically opens laptop* you gotta do it yourself *opens google doc of Ariboo fics*

[seventh-district]

This Evening I Will Not Forget

“I jumped into the fray with the intention of helping you and next thing I know I’m standing there uselessly watching the first person I’ve dared to love in two fucking centuries take a warhammer to the stomach!”

He turned to face you as he emphasized his last few words, now standing all but frozen in the middle of the tent with his hands held out, gesturing toward your injury. You’re about to pipe up and insist that it wasn’t his fault, but the words dissipate before you can speak them as another part of his sentence echoes in your mind. You repeat them back to him in a disbelieving whisper.

“The first person you’ve dared to love?”

His tense, frustrated expression instantly falls flat.

“I didn’t say that.”

An injury and an argument lead to you revealing far more of yourself and your unspoken past to Astarion than you planned to.

Pairing: Astarion x Reader

Word Count: 3,292

Content Warnings: [injured Reader] (not graphically described, just mentions of bruising and pain) [mean/avoidant Astarion] [argument] [mentions of Reader's scars & non-specific allusion to their Tragic Backstory™] [vulnerability] [possibly (probably) OOC Astarion]

Author's Note: This is an excerpt from my fic An Evening I Will Not Forget, but can be read as a standalone one-shot. The only context I think you'll need is that this fic is written in the style of reliving memories, hence certain lines will mention Reader "looking back" on them.

“What's important is this evenin' I will not forget

Purple, blue, orange, red

These colors of feelin'

Give me love, I'll put my heart in it”

You’re lying on your back as cold, pale fingers press against your sensitive skin, pulling a small pained sound of protest from you.

“Sorry, sorry…”

Astarion retracts his hand, fingers curling into his palm. You reach out to catch hold of him before he can completely pull away, your voice tense with pain as you reassure him.

“No- no... don’t be. I know you’re just trying to help.”

You bring his hand back toward your exposed stomach, his fingers still coated in the healing salve he was attempting to apply. His hand hovers hesitantly over your bruised and broken skin.

“Yes, but- I’m not very good at it.”

Your thumb brushes across his wrist as you hold onto him, suspecting that if you let go he’d just retract his hand again.

“What do you mean? Of course you are.”

He shakes his head insistently.

“No. It seems like every time I try to help you, I just end up hurting you even more…”

Confusion is clear both in your voice and on your features.

“That’s not… that’s not true, Star.”

You tug lightly on his wrist to get his attention, your voice soft as you ask him a question.

“Is this about what happened today?”

He pulls his hand out of your loose hold and you let him, watching as he stands and begins pacing circles inside the tent.

“No, I’m in a bad mood because the weather isn’t quite to my liking- of course it’s about what happened today!”

The initial sarcasm in his voice gave way to frustration near the end. Not with you, but with himself.

Now that you’re observing this memory from his perspective as well, you can see the moment you sustained the injury playing over and over again in his mind, working him up further and further.

“I jumped into the fray with the intention of helping you and next thing I know I’m standing there uselessly watching the first person I’ve dared to love in two fucking centuries take a warhammer to the stomach!”

He turned to face you as he emphasized his last few words, now standing all but frozen in the middle of the tent with his hands held out, gesturing toward your injury. You’re about to pipe up and insist that it wasn’t his fault, but the words dissipate before you can speak them as another part of his sentence echoes in your mind. You repeat them back to him in a disbelieving whisper.

“The first person you’ve dared to love?”

His tense, frustrated expression instantly falls flat.

“I didn’t say that.”

Your eyes widen, nodding slowly.

“Yes you did.”

Nervous laughter escapes him as he takes a step back, distancing himself from you.

“No, no, you… you must have heard me wrong. I didn’t- I was talking about helping you, I didn’t say anything about love, what’s love got to do with this?”

You hate to push him, fearing he may bolt like a frightened deer if you double down, but you know what you heard. It wasn’t like the first time you heard him say it, slapping it on the end of a string of pick-up lines, the word obviously carrying no weight, no truth. No, this second time was different.

“I think it has more to do with it than you’re willing to admit, Astarion.”

He falters, one of very few times you’ve seen him truly caught off guard, truly speechless.

“Those are…” He searches for something to say that’ll cover up the truth that’d just spilled out of him. “...bold words for someone currently bedridden.”

You bark a laugh and it turns into a low groan at the pain it causes to flare in your lower ribs.

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

If he’s being honest, even he’s hardly sure what he meant. He’s truly floundering here, for the first time in… forever.

“It means… it means that I can walk away from this conversation right now and there isn’t anything you can do about it.”

Stooping so low as to resort to childish threats, you can feel the embarrassment radiating off of him.

“Would you truly be so cruel as to do that to me right now? Walking away, leaving me vulnerable and confused just because you can’t handle the truth?”

You’re pushing your luck too far and you know it. Surprisingly, though, he takes one step toward you, moving away from the exit.

“Cruel?! If you think that me simply walking away from you counts as cruelty then you truly haven’t suffered enough.”

His words are suddenly laced with venom and they hit you harder than the barbarian’s warhammer did today, leaving a chill colder than ice in their wake.

He seems to actually hear what he said a moment later, the careless words ricocheting off of you and coming back to slam into his chest, nearly knocking him over and crushing him beneath the weight of his sudden regret.

A furious wave of heat and adrenaline courses through you as you bolt upright in the makeshift bed, ignoring the sharp pain that flares inside you in response to the sudden movement. Reaching down and grabbing at the tail of your shirt where it’s bunched up around your ribs, you hastily yank it up over your shoulders and head, tugging your arms out of the long sleeves and furiously tossing the garment directly at him.

“Suffered enough? You think I haven’t fucking suffered enough, Astarion? You don’t know the goddamned HALF of it! You’re not the only one in this tent that’s been abused, you know?! Oh wait- that’s right- you DON’T!”

Your voice cracks under the pressure of volume and emotion as fat, hot, angry tears roll down your cheeks against your will. Astarion stands there like a deer in the headlamps, your balled-up shirt having hit him softly in the chest and fallen anticlimactically to the ground. As his eyes rake over your heavily scarred arms, the angry purple markings showing no signs of lessening as they curl over your shoulders and disappear behind your back, it suddenly starts to make a lot more sense why you were so damned insistent that no one remove your clothes while treating your wounds earlier.

Shadowheart rips open the flap covering the tent’s exit, a very concerned looking Halsin ducking down behind her. Part of you is grateful that at least not everyone was currently at camp to witness your sudden breakdown, but even the sight of the two of them is enough to have you panicking. Pulling at the blanket gathered around your waist and shouting in an admittedly very childish, vulnerable voice, you demand they leave as you choke on your tears, hastily covering yourself up.

“GET OUT!”

Unsure of what to do, Shadowheart surveys the scene before her with a critical eye before sighing, seeming to understand that the best thing they can do right now is give you back your privacy. She knows that if you needed her, you would call. Turning to shoo away the concerned man behind her, she lowers the flap back down with a quiet murmur of “They’re… fine. Let’s give them some space.”

Astarion finally breaks free from where he’s been stood like a statue, slowly moving toward the exit as well with an unsure glance in your direction.

You bury your face into the fabric clutched in your hands, shouting into it in exasperation.

“NOT YOU!”

He freezes, no longer knowing what to do but wishing that the ground would simply open up and swallow him whole. Back under six feet of soil feels like where he deserves to be after what he just said to you.

He racks his brain for the right thing to say, coming up empty handed and eventually deciding that honesty might just be the best policy in this situation.

“I… I’m going to level with you. I have no idea what to do right now.”

In spite of it all, you laugh, a broken sound that cuts through your tears, causing you to cough, then the strain from coughing causes more tears to fall. Though he can’t admit it, Astarion knows right then and there that he never wants to hear or see you in such pain ever again.

“I… I’ll level with you, too.”

You pull the blanket away from your face, looking at him with watery, bloodshot eyes.

“...Neither do I.”

You glance down at the floor, attempting a deep breath and failing spectacularly as another broken sob escapes you. Dropping the fabric still held up against your chest, you press your hands down into the bedroll beneath you in an attempt to support your upper body and ease the pain radiating through your core.

Astarion takes one cautious step toward you, his unsteady voice the only thing filling the silence aside from your soft crying.

“I need… to apologize. For everything.”

You shake your head in disagreement and clear your throat.

“No, you don’t. You’ve been through a worse hell than I could ever even imagine. It’s… stupid of me to try and compete with you in that regard.”

He takes another step forward, insistent.

“That isn’t true. You have… clearly been through your own hell, and it was… stupid of me to assume you hadn’t. Even worse of me to try and downplay my avoidance by… holding my past over you like some sort of… like some sort of excuse.”

You shift your weight to the side in order to lift one hand, reaching out to grab at one of the small cloths stacked beside your bed. Astarion sees you struggling to reach them and rushes forward, closing what remained of the space he’d put between you as he lifted a cloth and handed it to you without a word.

You bring it to your face, pressing it to your eyes in a useless attempt to dry the tears that were still falling. Then, moving it down to blow your running nose into the cloth before you could make an even bigger mess of yourself than you already were. Finally able to breathe a bit better, you counter his point.

“Yeah, but- the thing is, I feel like you kinda have the right to do that, given all that you’ve survived. Of course you’d see the pain of walking away from a conversation as trivial when you compare it to… literally anything you’ve experienced.”

Now that he’s returned to your side, Astarion’s head angles to drag his gaze across your exposed back, finally seeing the full extent of your scarring as you lean forward a bit to toss the dirty cloth to the floor of the tent next to your shirt. Nausea swirls deep in the pit of his stomach as the upsetting sight of your marred skin burns itself into his memory.

“I believe… that’s called a double standard.”

You throw him a sad, confused look, and he explains.

“You’re trying to give me some sort of… free pass based on what I’ve been through, but I’ve never once seen you give yourself that same sort of leniency.”

“That’s… not the same thing.”

“I’m not saying we’ve been through the exact same thing, but…” He gestures vaguely to the entirety of you. “...clearly you’ve gone through something. If I get to lord my baggage over you then surely you’re permitted to do the same.”

Your tears begin to slow as you consider his words.

“I don’t… want to do that, though. Obviously. That’s why I haven’t told you. I don’t want you giving me special treatment because ‘poor pitiful me’ has gone through some shit. I don’t think that excuses any of my current behavior.”

The silence hangs in the air for a moment before he gently drives his point home.

“Yet you think it excuses mine?”

Hm.

“...okay. I guess you’ve got me there.”

You sigh, body beginning to feel heavier than lead as the sudden rush of emotion and adrenaline fades from you. You ease yourself back down, hissing at the pain as your bruised ribs and torn muscles protest the stretch and movement. Astarion wants to assist but truth be told he’s afraid to touch you. So, he watches on helplessly, still berating himself in the back of his mind for the role he feels he played in you sustaining today’s injuries to begin with.

Once you’re laid down and relaxing into the bedroll as much as you can, you make no effort to cover yourself up, not caring how long his eyes wander across your exposed skin. Silently, he tries to read the countless jagged lines and dots carved into you like they may eventually come together to paint him a picture of all that’s happened to you.

No picture anyone could paint would ever do the pain justice.

He settles himself down next to you as your tired eyes stare a hole in the ceiling of the tent.

“You do not have to accept my apology, but I will not rescind it. I do have the wherewithal to know that what I said was wrong. It was cruel. I…”

He exhales, the heavy sound full of the weight carried by a man that hasn’t been this honest with anyone in centuries.

“I…  tossed aside any consideration for how you may have felt, letting myself get lost in my own… stupid fears. It wasn’t right. It certainly wasn’t fair to you.”

Your head lolls to the side, appraising him with lidded eyes.

“You know… you’re surprisingly self-aware when you aren’t being a pompous ass.”

Your words draw a surprised laugh out of him and after a moment of consideration, he nods slowly in reluctant agreement.

“I’ve… had a lot of time to sit with myself and think. Eventually you get to know yourself pretty well.”

He looks down, idly picking at the loose threads on the edge of your well-worn bedroll.

“All of that self-awareness apparently doesn’t make me any kinder though, does it?”

It’s a rhetorical question but you answer it all the same.

“I still stand by my statement that you have good reason to be so… abrasive. Just being aware of those reasons doesn’t mean that they suddenly don’t affect you any more.”

Your hand raises from where it laid lifelessly beside you, reaching over for Astarion’s and pulling his anxious fingers away from attacking the weak points of your bedroll. You don’t release his hand once you direct him away from the loose threads, holding onto him as you continue to muse aloud.

“I think that a lot of us are just doing our best to not allow our past to affect our present, to varying degrees of success. Sometimes we fail. But- I believe all that truly matters at the end of the day is that we’re trying, though. … And, Astarion?”

“...yes?”

“I can tell that you’re trying.” You squeeze his hand. “And I accept your apology.”

You take a slow, deep breath, and listen as his voice comes out softer than you’ve ever heard it.

“Thank you.”

You nod your head in a silent “of course,” laying in thoughtful silence for a few moments before speaking.

“I… feel like I should apologize as well.”

Now it’s Astarion’s turn to be confused.

“What ever for?”

You weakly raise your other hand to gesture all around the room.

“Just… this. The scene I just made. Heaping all of this emotion onto you when you were obviously already struggling with how you felt about me in the first place.”

He doesn’t take long to respond.

“No, I don’t think you need to apologize for that. This… seems like it really needed to come out. I could never be upset with you for sharing it with me, regardless of the… unideal circumstances.”

He then seems to realize something.

“I hope you don’t regret it, though. Sharing this with me.”

You shake your head decisively and the motion causes your impending headache to flare.

“No. I don’t. I- uh- you were going to find out eventually with how… close we’ve been getting. I just couldn’t find the right time to tell you- or- well, show you, I guess.”

Your hand releases its hold on his, reaching up to carefully brush your fingertips across the mottled skin of your stomach. You raise your head up, angling it down to look down at the injury with a thoughtful gaze. Glancing over toward Astarion, you ask him another question.

“Can you hand me that salve from earlier? It never really… got fully applied.”

He immediately reaches behind him for the container, but holds it in his grasp as he stumbles over his words.

“I- I, uhm… wouldn’t mind trying again, if you want me to. If you don’t I’ll understand, though. Just… want you to know that the offer is still there.”

Your eyebrows raise in surprise, but you’re completely willing to let him do it.

“Oh… sure? You’re welcome to, I just… assumed you wouldn’t want to.”

He holds his other hand up and only then do you realize he never wiped the salve from his skin.

“These fingers are numb already anyways, might as well spare yours the same fate.”

You vaguely remember Shadowheart’s words as she passed Astarion the container earlier, cautioning him to not leave it for long on any skin he didn’t want to temporarily lose feeling in.

“But hey, at least we know that it works now, right?”

You give him a tired smile, appreciative of his efforts to lighten the mood.

“Mmm, I suppose so.”

You pull your hand away, exposing your injury to him once again.

“Have at me, then.”

With your permission, he sweeps a scoop of the healing and numbing mixture across your sensitive skin and you notice how feather-light he keeps his touch this time. Looking down to observe his work, you note how the messy mixture of the massive bruise’s dark colors stand in stark contrast to his pale white fingers that brush across it.

A thought slips out of your exhausted mind.

“Pretty…”

His eyes flick up to meet yours, unsure if he heard you correctly.

“Hmm?”

“The colors. They’re pretty. Purple, blue, even kinda orange…”

You look away from the bruise and up into his ruby eyes.

“...red.”

He’s silent for a moment, his hand pausing its gentle motion. Then he scoffs, looking away and internally dismissing your words as the ramblings of a tired mind.

“You’re talking nonsense, dear.”

Your filter has all but completely vanished, feeling almost drunk on your current mixture of exhaustion and relief after such a hell of a day. Sleep beckons you and your eyes fall closed as the pain in your ribs fades, on its way to being numbed out by the potent salve. A hazy thought surfaces, reminding you to give your thanks to Shadowheart when you next awake. For now though, you relax, no thought given to the words that slip from your lips.

“But you love my nonsense, don’t you…”

His heart feels like it jumps in his chest as he hears you so casually speak the word that he’s still reluctant to even think to himself, let alone say aloud. As he finishes massaging the salve into your skin and pulls his hand back, his eyes pass over the expansive unspoken history of pain evidently etched into your skin, up across your chest, over your shoulders and down your arms. He figures the least he can do is answer you honestly before sleep pulls you under.

“I… suppose I do.”

End Notes: If you'd like to read my commentary on this scene, you can find that in the end notes of Ch. 5 on AO3 - right here!

Header Image Source: x

[zeroeightzeroone]

homesick - han jisung

love collection

genre: hurt/comfort

pairings: fem!reader (infp) x idol!han jisung (istp)

warnings: none?

wc ~3.7k | moodboard

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ｡ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:

you miss your boyfriend–you miss him a lot.

how could you not?

all you have wanted to do for the past couple of weeks is throw your arms around jisung and hold him close. you want to keep your boyfriend so tightly against your chest that you're encapsulated by the warmth radiating off his body, the warmth that never fails to comfort you, resting your head against his chest to listen to how his heart beats in tandem with your own. you miss the physical closeness with jisung.

stray kids has been on tour since late april this year, and the last leg of the tour is expected to end early april next year. while that's quite a long time for the boys to be away, they'd be back in asia in late july and on a break until the tour kicks back up in early september. it's currently the beginning of july.

thankfully, you weren't taking any summer courses. through the grace of whatever higher power there is up there, you managed to convince your boss to let you work remotely so you could join jisung and the boys for two weeks during the japanese leg of their tour back at the beginning of june.

you loved watching jisung perform. seeing him firsthand from the crowd, in his element when he's on stage, performing his art and perfecting his craft, makes your heart lurch; you fall for the man all over again, watching him up there. seeing it firsthand is completely different from watching videos of him–you can feel the energy radiating off him when he's up there.

at the end of those two weeks, you and the boys ended up in the same place: the airport. you were boarding a plane back to seoul, and they were boarding a plane to their first tour stop in america. due to the influx of reporters and fans waiting at narita international airport, your goodbyes to the boys and their staff had to be in the hotel, inside your rooms, hours before checkout time.

knock, knock, knock.

"come in!" you call whoever is on the other side of the door; if it's any of the boys, then they will be accompanied by jisung, who has the extra room key for your room.

you grunt in a squatting position as you move your luggage from laying on the ground, on its back, to standing upright on its wheels. you hear the keycard machine beep from the other side of the door in confirmation as you're hunched over, wheeling your luggage up against the wall before standing up straight and rubbing your palms against your jeans. you watch as the front door opens to reveal the eight boys, jisung in front, holding the keycard to your hotel room. behind them, the managers and some guards come into the room with them, but the bodyguards stay outside.

"y/n!" felix whines with a pout as he pushes forward, running to you and enveloping you in his arms, "fly safe, okay?"

you pat the freckled boy's back appreciatively as you nod.

"make sure you text ji when you land, okay?"

"i will, but you guys will still be in the air when he gets that message."

felix pulls away, his hands on your shoulders as he looks at you, "still, it's the thought that counts." you smile and giggle at felix, who moves aside for the next couple of members to say their goodbyes to you.

your exchanges with jeongin, minho and changbin are on the shorter side; brief hugs with jeongin and changbin, who thank you for coming to support them in concert, meanwhile minho gives you a half hug and pats your head as he bids you farewell, thanking you for taking two weeks out of the many months jisung will spend talking about how much he'll miss you.

meanwhile, hyunjin, chan and seungmin's hugs last a little longer when you're swayed around a little bit and told to be safe, get a lot of rest on the plane and not miss them too much. chan lets you know that if there is any other time you're going to be free when they're on tour, let them know, and they'll arrange everything for you–from the plane tickets to where you're staying–anything at all.

seungmin, the member you're closest to after your boyfriend, whispers in your ear quietly to ensure it's kept between the two of you: "i know you're going to ask me to take care of jisung for you, so don't worry about that. don't worry about hannie; we all got him."

the reassurance brings a smile to your face, and your grip on seungmin gets tighter in appreciation. the boy sways your bodies back and forth, patting your back when you separate. when he pulls away, he steps aside to reveal your boyfriend standing there with a pout, his big, brown eyes glossy as tears build up at his waterline. you have to bite your lip to keep from sobbing.

you were already feeling on the verge of tears when felix came rushing in and pulled you into a hug. chan's words about arranging anything and everything if you're free, then seungmin assuring you that they'll look out for your boyfriend while on tour and now, here's your boyfriend, your hannie, your jisung, looking at you with teary eyes.

you open your arms and jisung runs into them, prompting you to take a step back at the sudden impact, but jisung's tight grip around your waist protects you from any chance of falling backward. jisung buries his face in the crook of your neck while your arms are wrapped around his neck, your chin resting on his shoulder as your eyes are squeezed shut. your grip on each other is tight, knowing that once either of you lets go, the next time you'll be in each other's arms is in two months.

jisung lets a choked whimper slip out that he tries to hide with a cough. you smack his back gently, "ya!"

you clear your throat, trying your best to stay composed and stern as you utter the next words.

"if you cry, i'm going to cry too!" your voice cracks and trembles as you speak.

"i'm not crying," he denies. though his voice is muffled from his head buried in the crook of your neck, you can clearly hear that it's softer than usual, shaky, and uneasy.

you let out a pained laugh, "liar." the tears flow down your cheeks as you hold him even tighter.

"i'm not lying!" jisung continues to deny. he lifts his head up from your neck, and you stand there, still in each other's arms, looking at each other, "see."

what you see is how jisung's cheeks are flushed, wet with tears that probably fell and landed on the fabric of the hoodie you're wearing, his lashes clumped together with tears as he tries to keep his lips pursed together when they're trembling and threatening to go back to that pout. on the other hand, your tears are freely falling as you stare up at your boyfriend through your fluttering lids, mouth opening and closing as you breathe heavily through your pouted lips, cheeks also flushed and damp. you smack his chest.

"what?" he whines.

you open your mouth to laugh at him, but instead, a sob comes out. you fall back into his arms and bury your face into his chest as you cry.

"look who's crying now," jisung retorts as his arms move around your body again, holding you close. one hand rests on the small of your back while the other caresses your hair.

"yeah, the both of you," minho teases and jisung glares at the boy, but the older one just smiles back.

the rest of the boys watch the exchange between you and jisung with a slight ache in their chests as they remember how hard it was to say goodbye to their friends and family before leaving. chan looks around and he gathers everyone to leave, wanting to give you and jisung a minute alone to say your goodbyes before the driver takes you to the airport.

pulling away, jisung moves his hands to your face and brushes your hair back, some strands sticking to your skin because of tears as you hiccup. even when your hair is out of your face, he continues to stroke your hair back while the other hand is on your cheek, gently caressing the skin with the pad of his thumb. the two of you stare up at each other, sniffling.

"i love you," jisung whispers, his voice hoarse from crying.

you nod, sniffling and hiccuping in return, "i love you too."

jisung smiles down at you, "hey, i'll be back before you know it."

your eyelids flutter as you blink quickly, and your hands play with the back of the sweatshirt jisung is wearing.

"i'll text you everyday," he reminds, "i'll call you as much as i can, and as much our schedules and the time zones allow for."

you sigh shakily, "i'm gonna miss you so much."

"i'm going to miss you so much too, my love," jisung brushes your hair back again, "god, i wish i could just take you with me. two months away from you? that's too long."

you snicker, nodding in agreement, "i do too. but hey, i'll get to see so many videos of you taken by stay, doing your thing on stage."

your boyfriend smiles, gazing down at you lovingly.

"i'm so proud of you. look at you," you sigh, lips curled up in a smile, "my boyfriend is going on a world tour."

"do you know what that means?" you tilt your head in confusion, "souvenirs from every stop that remind me of you!"

since he left, both of you have been sending texts daily and video calls whenever your schedules permit it and when the time zones line up enough so it isn't too early or too late for either of you.

sometimes your calls only prompt you to miss jisung even more, wishing he was next to you and that his voice wasn't just coming through a device while he's on the other side of the world, but the distance also means you continue to long for the day jisung comes home. you know his parents long for that day as well, his mother sending you texts every couple of days asking when you're free so you can go out together. as jisung likes to put it–spending time with her future daughter-in-law.

however, as the number of days away from jisung increases, the number of days before jisung returns also decreases. with that in mind, you try to stay positive and look forward to the day he comes home.

now that the boys are in america, they've been quite busy rehearsing, checking and then rechecking their formations and any technical details that could go wrong during the concerts, the process repeating at each venue as they sync up their equipment with the new venues. their team organizing and making sure everything is okay with the venue and other organizers. as a result, jisung has been too busy to call late at night as he passes out the moment he's in his hotel room from the venue, then waking up a couple hours later to hop on a flight to the next destination.

he sends you texts here and there throughout his day, sending random photos of himself and the members during rehearsals or before and after the show. on jisung's end, he sent a text over when he landed early in the morning, saying he could probably hop on a call quickly when he gets to the hotel, seeing as they're going to be in inglewood for a little over a week for two shows instead of one. you were about to leave work when the message came through. going home for the evening when the message reminded you of your phone call with jisung's mother.

"hello, eomeonim (mother-in-law)," you greet when the line connects.

"y/n, myeoneuri (daughter-in-law)," she speaks into the phone, her tone sweet as usual. she doesn't say anything for a moment before speaking, "is this a bad time? you don't sound like you're at home?"

"ah, sorry eomeonim," you apologize, "i just got off the bus, but i'm on the way home now. but don't worry, i can talk if you need me."

"ah okay, i won't keep you too long then, myeoneuri," she assures before continuing, "have you spoken to jisung on the phone recently?"

you hum as you think, "I think it's been a couple of days since our last phone call; why? is he okay?"

you hear jisung's mother sigh on the other end of the line, "i'm a little worried, if i'm honest," you hum in acknowledgment and she continues, "he sounded quite down on our phone call yesterday and the day before. he told me not to worry when i asked… i know this might be a lot, but would you mind talking to him? if it's you, he'll open up more–at least, he'll have talked about what's on his mind."

"yeah, yeah, of course," you agree, "i'll see if we can call tonight, and i'll check up on him, see how he's doing, eomeonim. don't worry too much, i'm sure ji is okay!"

she chuckles on the other end, "ah, you sound just like him, y/n. don't tell him i sent you!"

you laugh in response to her rushed addition at the end of her statement: "i won't say anything," she sighs in relief, "was there anything else you were curious about?"

she hums, "nothing else, thank you so much, myeoneuri. i'll see you on the weekend, okay? come over whenever you want! the door is always open for you!"

your cheeks flush in embarrassment as you smile, "thank you, i'll see you in a couple of days. bye eomeonim!"

"goodbye, myeoneuri! get home safely. i love you," she bids her farewells, which you exchange right back with her before she hangs up the call.

thinking back to that conversation, you wonder what worried jisung's mother about him; was it how he spoke? his tone? the words he used? was he quite active in the conversation, or did he seem more passive? you wonder what exactly she meant by jisung sounding quite down, but you guess you'll figure it out when he calls you in the morning.

it's around eight in the morning when your phone rings from the bedside table. yunjin should already be awake and ready for work, so the ringer volume doesn't wake anyone up except you. you roll around, feeling around the bedside table for the device. you accept his call quickly and place the phone to your ear.

a deep yawn leaves your lips before you say, "ji baby?"

you hear him hum in acknowledgment on the other end before he replies, "yeah, baby, it's me." a sleepy smile forms on your lips at the sound of his voice. " did I wake you?"

you groan softly as you flick the lamp on, the sudden brightness causing you to squint, "yes but i don't mind. i just wanna hear your voice. are you back at the hotel now?"

"yeah, we got back a while ago. i just wanted to be ready for bed before calling; this way i can fall asleep while you're on the line," jisung explains, and you feel your cheeks heat up at his sentiments.

he continues to talk about what they did today. you're gradually more awake and more attentive as the minutes pass, so eventually, you realize what jisung's mother was referring to when it sounded like he's been down. jisung is speaking monotone, his voice softer, and when he speaks, it sounds like his mind is elsewhere.

when he's finished, you decide to segway into that conversation, "how are you feeling?"

he pauses for a moment, taken aback before he shrugs, "i'm tired, it's been a long day of rehearsal. what about you? how are you feeling?"

"i'm doing good, i'm hearing your voice, so i'm doing great," you answer quickly before he tries to shift the conversation to you, "are you physically tired or?"

jisung is lying in bed as he speaks to you, looking up at the ceiling and thinking of his replies, "yeah. dancing and all."

"emotionally?"

"emotionally?" he repeats to which you confirm, "i mean… i'm okay–better now since i'm hearing your voice after a couple of days… it's been a busy last couple of days."

you nod, running a hand through your tangled hair as you listen to jisung on the other end. his tone is still distracted as his words graze over how he's feeling, avoiding delving deeper into it. realizing that maybe he isn't ready to delve deeper into his emotions, you allow him to shift the conversation to your life and what you've been up to while he's been on tour–asking you how work has been and if anything new has occurred. you answer jisung honestly; there is nothing new at work as it's the same job you've had since getting into university; the only new events would be the lunch you have on the weekend with jisung's mother, aunt and grandmother.

the latter part of your updates brings a smile to jisung's lips, his heart warming at the thought of the most important women in his life spending quality time together. but at the same time, hearing your updates about your life back at home, no matter how small you think they are or if they're the same things that always happen, has jisung's chest aching in a completely different way.

"ji?" you call, not hearing anything coming from his end, "did you fall asleep?" you pause to listen, to survey whether or not you hear soft snores or heavy breathing that indicate that he is indeed asleep.

instead, jisung responds after a couple of moments, "i'm still here. i'm awake."

"are you okay?" you wonder, "if you're tired then i can go–"

"no, don't go," he quickly interrupts, "sorry."

"don't apologize, i just wanna make sure you're okay," you reassure, and you hear him hum in acknowledgment.

"i miss you," he declares softly, his voice solemn as he speaks.

"i miss you too, ji," you sigh, instinctively clutching the pillow closer to your chest.

the boy on the other end ponders for a moment before continuing, "i miss you a lot. i don't really know how to explain it," jisung blinks up at the ceiling, "i miss you all the time, but when we get back to the hotel or when i'm not performing, i miss you even more."

jisung's eyebrows knit in frustration as he continues to explain himself.

"i love being on stage, i love performing," he states, "i can't explain how i feel when i'm performing either, but… there's a feeling of contentment or fullness? i don't know… i just know i love to be up there. but…"

"but?" you encourage him to continue as his words trail off.

"but when i get back to the hotel, or when it's all over, i feel tired: the adrenaline doesn't last as long as it usually does. but even though i'm tired, it's hard to fall asleep."

you aren't sure where to place jisung's words, unsure if you've ever felt the way he's been feeling lately, uncertain if you can relate, but at the least, you want to understand and reassure him that you're there.

"there's a feeling of emptiness that kinda just sits there when i'm not on stage," his voice is softer when he says the word 'emptiness' like it's a fragile word, one he's unsure of, "i wasn't sure what it was before but listening to you talk started to help me realize what caused the emptiness."

"something i said helped you realize?" you repeat for clarification.

"yeah, listening to you talk about home, work, the local cafes, the conversations you have with my mom–just everything about your life at home," jisung lists, "i'm feeling homesick."

your lips part in awe when the last word leaves his mouth, the singular word allowing you to reconceptualize what he said previously and gain a greater understanding.

"i tried my best to distract myself and rehearse more to combat those feelings of emptiness but nothing seemed to work; it just stuck there. listening to you helped combat some of my homesickness but…"

"but it's still there," you finish his sentence, and he agrees with a sigh.

"i love being onstage, i feel so alive when i'm up there," now, when jisung speaks, his tone is clearer, and his thoughts are clearer, the way he's speaking signalling that instead of being lost in his own thoughts he's got both feet on the ground and he's working through them, "but i miss home so much. god… i miss you so damn much."

you smile sadly when you hear him sniffle.

"i miss my bed at the dorms, the air fryer at the dorms that we don't even use. i miss the smell of your laundry detergent and shampoo, i miss being in your arms, and you playing with my hair. i miss being at home."

jisung cries softly as he speaks, sniffling and continuing to list off the things that he misses at home. it brings tears to your eyes; using your comforter to dab the tears off your face.

"hey…" you call into the phone, "would it help if i sent little voice messages throughout the day so you could hear my voice? i can send pictures of things you love here too? just a couple more weeks, and you'll be here, and i'll hold you so tightly you get sick of me."

"i'll never be sick of being in your arms," he remarks, "and if it isn't too much, i would love that, all of it." jisung smiles at your suggestions, appreciative of you and your ideas to help him combat his homesickness until he's back in seoul.

"i'll try my best."

"baby?" he coos, prompting a soft response from you, "do you think we can video call? i wanna see your face before i sleep. can you stay until i fall asleep?"

your cheeks heat up from your boyfriend's suggestion, and your heart feels giddy at seeing his face for a couple of minutes before he falls asleep. " of course, baby."

[baby-stay92]

Love At First Sight - Part 4

Pairing: Idol!Han x Fem!Reader

SMUT

Warnings: PiV (Wrap before you tap!), Choking, spanking, kinda dirty talk, let me know if I missed something.

WD.: 1.927

Credit: baby-stay92

~~~~~~~~

@adestayskz

<- Prev

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“Sounds like a perfect plan!” Han smiles and takes the package out of your hands. You thank him for carrying the box before leading the way to the subway, which you ride toward the outskirts of town. Once you’re at the right station, you both get off the train and make your way above ground. Once again, Han follows you as you walk the distance of two blocks before reaching your apartment building, where you unlock the street door and walk to the elevator which you call for. Once the elevator arrives at your floor, you walk down the hall to your door, which you unlock and open slowly, making sure that your cat doesn’t escape. Once you’re both inside, Han sets down the box before kicking off his shoes and pets the cat.

“I didn’t know you had a cat” Han smiles as the cat clearly shows affection towards him.

“I didn’t?” You giggle and kick off your shoes. “Well her name is Luna and I’ve had her since she was a little kitten” You smile and grab the box before carrying it to your bedroom, where you set it down by the foot of your bed.

“Well she’s a real cutie” Han smiles as he follows you and now starts looking around your room. 

“You say that now, but just you wait till she sets her claws into your thighs” You laugh and sit on my bed, letting Han look around your room. After a while, you guys order dinner and sit on the couch.

“What movie do you wanna watch?” You ask him, as you turn on the TV and open up the NetFlix app.

“Anything you want, love” Han says and smiles at you.

“No you’re the guest, so you get to pick” You giggle as you give him the remote before getting up from the couch to go get blankets and pillows. You return not long after and you get comfy on the couch, next to Han, who smiles widely at you.

“So what movie did you pick?” You ask as you get comfy, purposely sitting closer to him, even though the couch easily seats 4 people.

“Paranormal Activity” Han says in a scary voice and you bite your lip. “Oh let me guess, you’re not the biggest horror movie fan?” He adds and chuckles a bit.

“I’m not, no - but if you’re okay with me ending up in your lap, then by all means, press play.” You giggle and lean into Han’s side from where he quickly places and arm around you before starting the movie.

“You’re welcome in my lap any time, love.” Han smiles down at you, making you giggle again as you move your focus to the screen.

“Trust me, I’ll be keeping you to that.” You smile and try to prepare yourself for the movie, even though you knew that you probably would never be ready. As the movie went on, you found yourself inching closer and closer to Han, who gladly pulled you closer to him. About halfway through the movie, a massive jump scare happened, causing you to squeal and hide your face in the crook of Han’s neck.

“You surviving, love?” He chuckled and kissed the top of your head, in an attempt to soothe you.

“I’m not sure” You gasp, still hiding your face. After your heart has settled down a bit, you slowly move your head from its hiding spot but much to your surprise, Han is still looking down at you. You stop, your face only a few inches from his, the both of you completely ignoring the movie, that’s still going on in the background. It felt like time stood still as you both froze. You had no idea how much time passed while you stayed in this position but suddenly you found yourself whispering;

“Han? Please kiss me…” Your voice is barely a whisper and you feel your cheeks getting warm. Han didn’t hesitate before he pushed his ever so soft and perfect lips against yours in a sweet and loving kiss, which you gladly reciprocated. After staying like this for a while, the time still standing still, you eagerly deepened the kiss and to your surprise Han followed your lead. You felt the heat raise to your cheeks and it was as if the world disappeared around the two of you. The hand that Han had around you dropped to your lower back, where it snaked around you even more before he pulled you into his lap. You gasped against his lips as you straddled him, but you made sure not to break the kiss. You felt his tongue lick your bottom lip, begging you to let him inside your mouth and you gladly complied. You didn’t even realise that you had started grinding against him until Han started moaning against your lips. Han moved both his hands to your hips where he grabbed you tight and helped you move against him, now making you both moan into each other's mouths. You pull away from him and stand up in front of him, a smirk on your lips. You bend down to his lap, where you make quick work of his zipper before pulling down his jeans and his boxers, wasting no time.

“I’m gonna get undressed and you just sit there and enjoy the show.” You smirk and start stripping, taking your time, just to see Hans dick grow harder and harder in his lap. You loved seeing the effect you had on him as you slowly pulled the purple tank top over your head, revealing that you weren’t wearing a bra.

“Shit..!” Han mumbled, clearly fighting to stay in his seat.

“Like what you see, baby?” You asked and slowly kicked off your boots, leaving the knee high socks on. You turned your side to Han as you undid your shorts and pulled them down your legs, bedding over in the process. You saw Han swallow hard, and now more than ever, he was truly struggling.

“Oh do I?” He said and bit his lip as you turned to face him again. You retook your seat on his lap, once again straddling him, feeling his hard on pressing against your wet and begging centre.

“You want it?” You whispered in his ear starting to grind on him again, moaning lightly.

“You know I do.” Han replied and clearly he was at his limit so you decided to be nice to the poor desperate boy.

“Then take me” You said seductively and kissed his neck before lifting your ass off of him, allowing him to align himself with you. Once you found yourself hovering above his throbbing cock, you slowly lowered yourself onto him, causing moans from the both of you to fill the room. Once he’s bottomed out you place your hands on his shoulders to help raise and lower yourself steadily and slowly at first. After a while you pick up your pace and dig your nails into Han’s shoulders from pleasure, causing him to grab your hips tightly making you moan louder.

“God you look good on top of me, like this” Han moans, never taking his eyes of you as he guides you to move faster and you gladly do so. You throw your head back and Han takes this chance to move one hand from your hips and down to your aching clit, on which he starts rubbing circles. You moan loudly at the sudden sensation and the knot in your stomach rapidly tightens as he keeps going.

“H-han.. I’m” You choke on your own words, pleasure taking over your body as you begin to shake.

“Say it, baby” He commands and you fight with everything you got to push the words over your lips.

“I’m…” Moan “gonna…” Moan “Come…” You moan and finally the knot in your stomach comes undone as you fling yourself forward, against Hans still clothed chest.

“Good girl” Han smirks and lifts you off him, sitting you on the couch next to him. He stands up and gets undressed, allowing you to take in every gorgeous inch of the man in front of you. You can’t help it as your jaw drops at the sight.

“Enjoying the show, babe?” Han smirks as he leans down to hover over you. You just nod and he seems to accept the response, with a low chuckle. He grabs your hands and pulls you to your feet before he turns you around and pushes you forward, so you’re sitting on your knees on the couch, leaning on the backrest. You gasp, but honestly you absolutely love that he’s taking control of the situation.

“God you really do look good from all angles, don’t you” He says and without any warning he plants a harsh slap to your ass, making you moan loudly, revealing that you clearly enjoy it.

“Well, well, well” Han says, his voice all raspy. “My baby likes getting her ass spanked, huh?” He asked and spanked you again.

“Y-yes!” You moan, pleasure taking over, making your screw your eyes closed and dig your nails into the backrest of the couch.

“Please, Sungie, don’t make me wait.” You beg, biting your bottom lip.

“You want me, huh?” He coos and delivers another slap to your now sore ass.

“God yes, please!” You beg again the desperation growing with each passing second. Han slapped your ass one last time before he stood between your legs and aligned himself with your dripping hole. He didn’t waste any time as he slammed himself balls deep into you causing you to moan loudly as your upper body makes contact with the back of the couch, from the force of Jisungs hips. He grabbed your hips to hold you in place as he quickly set a pace so fast, you couldn’t help but be surprised. Your moans grew louder and more frantic for every thrust and god did you nearly pass out as he reached one hand up to your throat and grabbed on tight. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, pleasure like this completely new to you.

“I guess I can add that to the list of things you like, huh baby” Han groans from behind you and all you can do is nod, words refusing to slip your lips. Han somehow manages to speed up and he moves more aggressively much to your surprise. You felt the knot returning and god did it grow fast. It grew faster once Han moved his hand from your throat and down to your throbbing clit, which he once again started to rub. 

“Han… I can’t hold…back much longer” You moan and feel him starting to move more frantically, indicating that he too was reaching his high. 

“Let go baby” He moans and puts more pressure on your sore clit, not backing down until you come undone around him - and so you do. The knot in your stomach snaps making you moan loudly as you squirt and feel Han shoot warm ropes of cum inside of you. His hand leaves your clit so he can carefully pull out of you before he helps you stand up so he can pick you up princess style and carry you to the bathroom. Once he locates the bathroom, he sets you down in the bathtub before turning the water on.

“Want me to join you?” He asks with a loving smile and all you can do is nod, making him sit behind you, holding you tightly.

<- Prev

[leisi-lilacdreams]

more Purple Squared fanart

@amevello-blue and @alicat54cwriting directly told me that they added art bait to chapter 11 lol some aren't in the chapter, but still inspired by dialog

i'm getting pretty attached to this little bunny boy

think i hit this design out of the ball park first try

close ups under cut

[whosthere54]

I can’t find my original post about it but I did do a poll a while ago on what fic I should finish. Yes it’s been a WHILE but I finally did it so here’s the “If Icarus got that hug in family reunion” fic cause I can

Until Ao3 Works you get it here :]

The TWs for Family Reunion are Panic, Yelling, and Manipulation. Let me know if you believe anything else should be added and I’ll edit the list.

You know how it is, these themes will carry over to my fic so pls make sure to take care of yourselves first <3

“I never asked to be here at all. So why do I still have to face the fear of loosing it?” - Song: The fear of loosing this by Florist

Or - What if Icarus got that hug?

—=+=—

There’s a moment of silence between the two brothers, Rae glancing at Aax before speaking again.

“Do you… do you want a hug?”

They look up, surprise and confusion washing over them before they’re able to adjust their expression to something neutral.

“I… yeah. Please.” Their wings adjust on their back, draping themselves over their shoulders as they move their arms to cross over their chest.

Rae nods, glancing at Aax again who gives him a nod back. He takes a few test steps forward, when they don’t move he walks over to them. Aax follows, keeping a decent distance between her and Rae- letting him have space but making sure he’s safe. They can’t exactly blame him, like they said- the two don’t have the best track record when it comes to “talking” right now.

Rae gets close, and they instinctively take a small step back, feathers flaring for just a moment before settling again.

Rae stops, holding his hands out placatingly. He gives a gentle reassurance, a simple repeat of what they’d said before- another “we’re not here to hurt you” “I-I’m not mad.” and some other quiet reassurance they didn’t quite hear.

After a moment of hesitation, they take the next step forward- Rae immediately pulling them into a hug.

It was nice. They couldn’t remember the last time they had a hug from Rae.

Trying *so hard* not to let tears escape, they look at Aax over his shoulder. Though immediately regretting it when she just looks so… sad. Pity held in her gaze that makes them feel sick.

They hid their face against Rae’s neck, quiet shaky breaths the only indicator that they were trying not to cry. Rae sighs softly, and when he speaks again it sounds like he’s close to crying as well. “It’s gonna be okay Icarus… I’m still going to try- I promise I’m not going to give up on you.”

Maybe that causes some of their tears to fall, and maybe Rae holds them just slightly tighter.

When their knees shake and threaten to give out Rae adjusts them so they’re both sitting in the wet grass, not letting go of them. (Not letting them fall, even if it’s something as stupid as this.)

They hear Aax settle to sit nearby, facing away from the brother to scan for threats. It was comforting, they couldn’t do it themself and if Fable came back and did something to him they don’t think they’d be able to forgive themself.

They sit like that for a while, Rae occasionally murmuring soft reassurance not once loosening his hold. It was nice, a comforting pressure- a distraction away from the cave they were still sitting outside of. Rae seems to think of something then- adjusting slightly and causing Icarus to pull away. Not completely- just enough so the two brothers were looking at each other. Icarus tilts their head just slightly as Rae looks at them with renewed sadness- pity in his eyes causing them to look away, fidgeting with the hem of their sleeves.

“I… Icarus it’s four months today isn’t it…” He says it so softly and they can’t-

“Shut up-“ They mumble.

“Icarus-“

“No-no. He isn’t… he isn’t gone I can fix it I’m going to fix it! He’s gonna come back-“ They wrap their arms tight around their chest careful of the ever-changing wound still concealed.

“Icarus…” Rae tries again, but they cut him off just the same.

“No- if you’re gonna say what all of them have been saying I’m not- I don’t have to *mourn* him he’s gonna come back, I don’t have to think about it because when I fix it it’ll be fine… you can go back to normal and it’ll be fixed…”

Rae’s face contorted into something confused, and then shocked and it crumbles into something sad, he blinks tears away so he can see them clearly.

“Is that… is that why you’re working with him?”

They give him a weak laugh, head angled down so their hair covers their face- goggles having fallen to their neck earlier that day and they didn’t bother to put them back up.

“Icarus…” they can’t handle this. They can’t handle the way he’s talking to them, holding them so gently like they’re something that’s going to *break.* they can’t handle him looking at them like that- they can’t-

“You have to go.” They say their voice firm and monotone.

“Icarus no-“ Rae’s brows furrow slightly and his hands linger on their shoulders.

“Please”

And that makes Rae pause.

“I don’t… Icarus I don’t want to leave you alone here. I- even if I don’t… *like* him Fable isn’t here right now. I’d rather you at least have him here.” When Icarus frowns at that Rae asks another question that leaves them thinking- more than they should be. When they think it doesn’t usually lead to anything good.

“Icarus how long has fable left you alone?”

They shrug. They really haven’t been keeping track of the time he was gone.

“He’s… he’s busy. The faster he gets whatever he’s doing done, the faster we can get this over with.” They mumble. It feels like they’ve said the same things over and over and *over* again and it still seems like nobody understands what they’re doing even after they explain it. Geez how many times have they done this circle of conversations with the things in the past four months?

“So you’ve been… you’ve been alone out here most of the time?”

They shrug, and nod. (They don’t want to lie anymore. It leaves them feeling sick and *wrong*)

“Icarus…”

Aax gets up quickly, face contorting into muffled anger, motioning at them to get up as well.

Rae turns to them- “Icarus-“ but they shake their head, getting up and helping Rae up as well.

“You have to go-“ They repeat the words, this time fueled by anxiety.

“Icarus!”

“Rae!”

“Icarus!” Fable’s booming voice echoes through the small clearing and they back away muttering a quiet apology under their breath that only Rae was meant to hear.

“Are you alright? Are they… are they here for anything?” He pulls out the reaver and it takes all of their power to look away from the blade glinting in the rain dimmed light.

“I’m okay… I ’m-I’m okay.”

“We’re not here to fight.” Rae’s gaze lingers on them for just a moment to long that it makes their skin crawl, arms wrapping around their torso and wings pulling slightly tighter to their back as Fable sighs.

“Of course. I see that it is only the two of you.”

Aax moves to stand only slightly in front of Rae, trident out and ready to attack if necessary. His voice carries confidently actress the clearing, low and sharp. An easy enough warning to understand. “We wouldn’t be stupid enough to come just the two of us if we were here for a fight.”

“No. You wouldn’t be that… stupid. No one would be.” He looks at Icarus then, solid gold meeting heterochromatic gold and purple. His eyes are too sharp, and they look away, casting their head down again.

He turns back to Rae, head held high. “But why are you here?”

“I’m here for Icarus.” They look at Rae through unkempt bangs, eyes darting between Rae and Aax as if analyzing them for a threat.

“Because they don’t need to be alone out here with just you, isolated from everyone else.” His tone holds more anger with Fable than it had with them.

“I’m not alone.” They say, loud and probably too sharp. They wince at the sound of their own voice casting their eyes to Fable when he looks at them again.

“Yes.” He looks away, and they do too. “They have me, they have Ven, they have Arisanna…”

“Which don’t know where you are?”

They cast their eyes down once more shuffling their feet.

“This place is supposed to be a secret for a *reason*, Rae. To keep others safe.”

“From… what, exactly? We’re not the ones running around hurting people.”

“Perhaps not now.”

“You haven’t changed! You’ve always hurt people! I’m starting to remember more of that now! You’ve always been like this… and now…” Rae turns to them, his voice softening just slightly again. “Look, Icarus he’s not a good person!”

“Neither am I!” They hold their head up as they say that, regretting it immediately in the way Rae shuffles and glances between them, Fable, and Aax.

“None of us are good people right now, Rae.”

He starts talking, he starts talking and they try so hard to tune him out. They don’t want it- they don’t want him to say more stupid words that get them to comply because they’ll comply regardless of what he says. They don’t think he knows that, but they will. They don’t… like him. They don’t trust him. But they’re good at putting on a show, and they can pretend they do. (Maybe deep down they do. They try not to, they know he’s wrong and they know what he’s doing to them -they don’t want to acknowledge the fact that it *is* working- but they love him. He’s their dad after all, and when they have no memory of their childhood he’s something that they can cling to)

“You hit me!” Rae says, anger disappearing to leave a suffocating tone of sadness fear, and *betrayal* that lingered in his voice.

“I did.”

They just look between him and Rae feet shuffling against the grass, begging their head to go blank like it tends to do. They’re feeling too much and it’s too wrong and they’re thinking- thinking leads to questioning and questioning leads to things they don’t want to know-

“Where is she.” Rae’s voice wobbles with anger and unshed tears. They glance up to Fable as he turns to them- “Where…”

“Icarus, do you wish to see your mother?”

They blink, looking back up at him with a muted look of confusion. “Yeah…” they said it too quietly, too much emotion filling their voice that wasn’t supposed to be there. They can tell in the way they feel Rae’s gaze on them again. They try to cover it up- “Yeah, yes, yes.” But then Fable starts to walk towards the stupid fucking cave and-

“W-wait- wait” they stare with wide eyes as Fable creates a small opening, just enough for them to get through. “Uhm..” Rae glances at them again, Aax moves to stand in front of Rae, trident in hand face contorted into disgust and then anger. “Wait-wait where…” He pulls his shield out.

“It was the one place I did not think anyone would go.” He breaks a small hole through the stone, just enough that they would be able to walk through. Rae walks closer to him, while Aax lingers behind.

“Uhm…. Um…” They walk towards him, stopping about the same distance Rae is away from the entrance for a moment before moving up to stand beside Fable.

They don’t want to be here anymore- they don’t want to be that close. They don’t want to *see* it again- they can’t…

Their breathing shakes.

“Where are you… where is…” Aax moves quickly back in front of Rae. “Where is that? What are you…”

“She is in a pocket dimension. Just as Enderian had held her before.” He says his sister's name with a sneer. “I will bring you Rae, and I will bring Icarus to see her.”

They can’t breathe- they look through the space Fable had cleared into the cave. The first thing they noticed was that there was still blood on the floor… theirs or Centross’s they couldn’t quite tell. Their eyes fell on the slab, seeing their blood still dried on the smooth stone and splattered on the ground in front of it. Fuck they can’t breathe… their chest *hurts* they can’t-

They manage to pull their gaze away from the cave back onto Fable as he speaks again.

“I’m sorry, Aax, but I will not let you see her. I cannot take the risk.”

“Why… why does it smell like death in there?” They turn to look at Aax, his tone settling on a heavy undertone of sadness as they speak.

They try to bring themself to explain.

“It… it’s-“ Fable cuts them off sharply. “Because it is a place that I thought was of life. I was *foolish* enough to believe it was of life. But it is a place of death. This is where the first mortals were made by me. This is the place where I first mourned them when they *died.*”

“This is where… Centross… died.”

“And you’re taking him in there alone, just the two of you?”

“Yes. I know you do not trust me…”

Their chest aches. They have to take a moment to breathe through a wave of pain that courses through their chest, through their ribs. They tune back into the conversation a moment later when Fable says their name again, though they don’t pay much attention. Their mind won’t stop wandering, and the things won’t stop talking.

“If *anything* happens to him. Know that I will be hunting you to the ends of the earth.”

“As you should. Rae is important to you, as he is to me.” He turns and walks into the cave, but before they can even *think* about following him Aax stops them.

“Icarus. I need you to promise…”

They nod, trying to get their thoughts to work to the current conversation. “Yeah… I’m- he won’t-“

“Promise me he’ll be okay.” Aax asks, and they nod firmly this time.

“He’ll-he’ll be okay.” They can’t tell if they’re trying to reassure her or themself.

“Okay.”

Icarus turns to the entrance, hesitating a moment before heading inside.

“Are you ready?”

“We’re going… in?”

“Yes. I did not think Enderian had this power. I thought she could simply create the bubbles, but she could move if she wished it. If she had other abilities I now hold. She might have been able to escape at any time if she had known. If she could’ve held the same powers I now have .”

They have to take another minute to even out their breathing.

“She couldn’t escape. She- she gave them to me. She was trapped there.”

“Just as Isla was. But now we can move freely to see her.”

They nod lightly. “Okay.”

Fable inhales, “Here we go.” They teleport into the small pocket dimension.

It was a bright, glow stone blinding encircling the small space. As soon as they looked up at their mother- blonde hair blocking a face they couldn’t even remember- they felt an overwhelming sense of dread. It was almost like anxiety, the way it thrummed through their veins. Just a sense of something was wrong.

They couldn’t tell if Rae felt it, but when they got in there they knew he was more distressed, probably at the sight of their mother in a stasis chamber than anything else.

“Icarus I can… I can help. You don’t need him- I can- I can help her! I can help us…” They don’t know what to say, but they get cut off by Fable before they could respond.

“How, Rae?”

“I… I’m not going to tell you. I’m not going to let you do something else to her. Or screw up trying.” He spits the last part with lingering anger, tears beginning to form in his eyes.

“Rae…” He turns to look at them a moment before turning back to Fable as he speaks again.

“You will not give me the chance to help your mother? *My wife?* To bring her back to us.”

Rae doesn’t speak, he simply shakes his head.

Fable frowns. “No?”

“No.” Rae says softly.

“You’d have her stay here?” Rae’s expression crumbles.

The next time they look back at Isla, they can’t look away. This is the first time they’ve seen their mother in person. They don’t have any image of her in their memory other than the portrait that’s sat locked away in Fable’s house. She looks different, they can’t quite see her face but she seems so… tired. A lingering sense of sadness seems to be all she has in that small tube, and it almost physically pains them to see her like that. (To have her feel so similar to what they feel locked up in their house.)

“I have Enderian’s powers now. I could wield them.”

They look back at Fable then. “What?” They glance between him and Rae.

“You could do this! You could hurt her all over again!”

They frown. “He wouldn’t.”

“He did it the first time!” Stray tears are beginning to fall down Rae’s face now that make them stop.

“As a *mistake*, Rae.” He tries, but Rae isn’t having it.

“So what’s preventing you from making the same one?!”

Fable sighs. “Remembering what happened the first time. Seeing my wife’s face, and having it haunt-“

“She doesn’t want to be yours!” Rae yells, his voice echoing in the small chamber. There are more tears spilling down his face, and Icarus can’t help but take a step back as they take another shaky breath. They watch Fable's face, but he doesn’t seem to react. Simply responding calmly, anger quiet and reserved (as if that doesn’t scare them more.)

“She gets to make that choice. Not-“ Rae cuts him off again. “Does she?!”

Fable frowns, and his tone comes out just slightly more angry than he probably wanted it to. “Yes. When she is well, Rae.”

“You don’t get to make that choice, you tried to take that choice away from her. I won’t tell you shit!” Rae talks over what he tries to say next, words hitting their mark effectively when Fable sighs again.

“Rae!” They start, trying to maybe help in some way, try to get that information. But they go quiet as Fable talks again.

“I understand. If that is what you wish.” He inhales sharply again, and they are teleported back outside the bubble. Back into the cave.

They can hear Rae’s breathing shake, as he is ushered out of the cave by Fable. They take a lingering glance back, eyes falling on the slab, and then spot Centross died before Fable pushes them out.

They linger near the cave entrance as they hear Fable walk out behind them with a sigh. Rae goes to huddle next to Aax with his head down as he wipes the lingering stray tears from his face.

“Rae. When you are ready to help your mother and to fix our family, now you know where we are. You said it yourself, you can do that Rae. Bring her back to us. I have made mistakes in the past, but I have done my best to watch over *you* and your brother in her absence. I have protected you and your brother as best as I *could.*”

His tone changes then, more earnest, more desperate. It was all tinted with an undertone of anger a force perfectly covered as he says the words that hit their mark as Rae seems to cower as he says them.

“It was not perfect, I admit this, none of this has been perfect. None of this had been perfect. I have not been perfect, Rae. But *you* gave me a chance. All the same. As you have given so many others. *You* freed me from purgatory Rae. I owe you my life. You can do the same for your mother. You can give her a *chance.* When you are ready to give her that chance, we will be here.”

There’s a deafening silence as Rae takes a few steps back, eyes moving between Fable and Aax.

“We should go- we should go.” His voice sounds like he’s trying so desperately not to cry and something in them feels concerned, it does, but as Rae and Aax fly away all they can think of is that he didn’t say goodbye.

All they can think of is that he didn’t even look at him after they left the bubble. All they can think about is how he left them alone again without saying goodbye. He’d just said he wasn’t going to give up on them. That he wasn’t going to leave them alone here again, but that’s all they feel like is happening.

Fable ends up coaxing them inside. They take the confirmations and reassurance he gives them, ignoring the fact that they know that sometimes he’s lying to them. They ignore the things all yelling, ignoring the way they erupt again when Fable apologizes to them. Apologizing that he couldn’t remove Quixis from them. They ignore them as they say he just apologized for not killing them that day.

They just don’t want to think about it anymore. (They don’t want to remember… and that’s a concerningly familiar wish for them.)

Fable finally gets them to take their mind off it, changing their focus to the birds lingering at their bedside.

They eventually lie down, Fable leaving them to their own thoughts again. The things leave soon after that, sleeping or going somewhere else they still don’t exactly know.

The silence is so so much worse. They curl in on themself under the covers, their birds having fallen asleep a bit ago on the birch next to their bed, so they weren’t making any noise either.

There’s a lingering feeling they can’t quite explain. It’s something under their skin that just makes them want to cry. It’s the lingering feeling of their brother’s hug, his hands running through their hair and his arm wrapped securely around their back. Their wings try to compensate, wrapping around their curled-up figure tightly as their arms wrap around their chest and their tail falls over their legs.

They want their dad. As stupid as that sounds. They want their dad, they want Rae they want… they want Centross.

Four months.

Their hand moves to stifle a quiet sob.

They miss him- gods they miss him so much.

They miss him randomly interrupting what they were doing to get them out of their house. They miss talking with him, joking with him. They miss being *near* him, as pathetic as that sounds. His presence was always comforting. Something that made them feel *safe* and fuck they missed that feeling.

They miss his voice, they miss and they miss and they miss.

They *swear* they’re going crazy when they get the phantom feeling of fingers running through their hair, just closing their eyes and willing themself to just sleep as their breathing shakes through more muffled sobs.

It takes too long in their opinion. By the time they fall asleep, they’ve run out of tears. Sitting in heavy silence for too long until they finally fall asleep.

Maybe sleep isn’t much of a release, the only thing they see is the memories of their best friend, the happiness stained by a lingering sadness and guilt that follows them when they wake up in the morning because of the memory of the cathedral that the dream always ends with.

Soon.

That’s all they have to remember.

It will be over soon.

[moritashie]

I'VE GOT AN evil FIC IDEA vol #13

After Peter's death, someone else with his face starts appearing in New York. That person, who knows he's not Peter, slowly starts to remember things from Peter's life, dreads that life, the family from memories, and grieves over something he never had.

Aka. Peter Parker dies, a clone of his is created. Upon escaping his captors, the clone learns of his origins, and in true Peter-like fashion (Lets suspend our beliefs for a moment, yes, they are also the same or very similar on the psychological level) he has a severe guilt complex over his very existence.

Enter Tony Stark into the equation.

[triplethewinds]

pspsps at the kunichuuzai fans

[astro-naut9]

pirate scenario gundomech

yea uhm!!! i was supposed to draw angst but i felt quite giddy and drew this instead :D silly silly