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spirit-of-the-void · 4 years

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Ebony and Ivory- Bonus Vergil Ending

Author’s notes: So. This took me a really long time to write, and...well...I dont really know what to say about that. To be honest, the V ending got a lot of complaints, and it really tore down my motivation and confidence for this fic, for writing in general. Not to mention I was trying to get my life together for the beginning of this year, but the virus shit kind of ruined everything so im just...dead for the most part. Shit sucks, I’m tired, but...I felt bad about never giving this ending, so i did my best to make it something worth reading for you all. Im sorry it took so long, im sorry i never write or post anymore. Im just really doing my best to get through each day, and im really grateful for those of you who stuck around, and those who didnt

Heres to, hopefully, more writing in the future.

Bonus Chapter

Vergil’s alternate ending

So lost in the gravity of the moment, minds addled and fogged with sadness, pain, and rage...neither man heard you.

The Outsider didn’t notice you snap out of the pocket Void he held you in, didn’t hear the shattering of obsidian and the distant howl of a thousand voices screaming their denial, their sheer despair at your choice. After all, this place was a part of you--The void wanted it too, ached and craved and begged for his punishment. The man who caused you so much pain, left abandoned and alone to suffer all the agonies a world could offer. Surely this could not be, surely you weren’t making this choice, willingly embracing this agony in all its absolute brilliance?

It hurt, it hurt. The pain was so fresh and alive, it rattled through your bones and spread like boiling, freezing water through every joint and tendon. Memory had always been your burden, from the moment you entered the Void to every fresh breath of it you drew to fight being swallowed whole by the inky abyss. And now those memories were like brands, searing into your skin and leaving scars so deep that they were numb. The burn didn’t stop, and neither would the images that came with them.

Images of your baby. Your son--Nero.

The instant you relieved that moment, saw his tiny form peppered with a tuft of white hair upon a shivering head you screamed, thrashing against the obsidian hands holding you back. One by one they shattered, shards drifting into absolute nothingness like dust floating on the breeze. More and more they came, trying to wipe it all away. And still...you writhed, shouted, held onto every moment, every pain. The guilt was more agonizing than anything else, sending your limbs trembling and mouth open in a soundless cry to join the ever shrieking masses. You left him, you forgot him. Your flesh and blood, your son left on a doorstep alone to grow up feeling abandoned and neglected.

No amount of power could change what had happened to your mind, to your body bleeding out on a sidewalk. Strength was just a fleeting concept then, a whispered promise of brighter futures than your soul was made to endure. When that agony returned, when the tragedy of that day struck it left you shattering and broken, glass upon the ground begging to be picked up again. You weren’t like that anymore.

Strength was no longer an empty promise, it was something real and tangible. You could hold it in your hands, cradle it and nurture it with everything you had. It existed in the laughter of friends, in the feeling of holding a loved one’s hand, deep breaths of ocean air and memories made in that place of tragedy that were so bright. For so long now ignorance had been your enemy, snatching away so much happiness and leaving you wanting. Losing V, the Outsider’s betrayal, this--if only you had known, if only things could change. If only. You were tired of those two words, the taste of them now foul and bitter like poison shoved down your throat. There it choked, spat out with more force than ever thought capable. No more ignorance, no more hiding from that deep, aching pain and regret--you knew now, and by the Void itself you would die before not knowing again.

It felt like hours had passed before the hands finally stopped coming, a gasp escaping your lips like you had been held under the ocean’s weight the whole time. Finally, a breach. You crested over that familiar surface of water, falling upward until the familiar glow of the Void finally met your eyes. Obsidian hands managed to break your fall, eyes swimming with dizziness and tears while everything sank into the very core. Vergil, your love, abandoning you, the order, the pregnancy, Nero--everything. This was the make or break moment, the time to sink or swim. You lay on the cold ground for some time, treading the waters of your own mind and trying not to drown while the Foresight screamed in unbearable pain. You would not break. You would not break. You would not break.

You wanted to remember, wanted to remember everything. There were so many things that had to be said, apologies to be made, love to give. You wanted to weep at the feet of your son, to beg and plead for forgiveness and tell him how absolutely loved he was from the very start. To make up for lost time, to change everything without the fear of shattering apart. The past could not be fixed, mistakes were now written in stone. But you knew that didn’t have to mean the future had to be bleak. You remembered now--That deep feeling of love, meeting Vergil that first time and pouring everything into him. His betrayal had stung to your very core, had left your past self weeping along in a cold cell. But...that love wasn’t gone. It didn’t justify Vergil’s actions, but you knew now. No longer ignorant, having been so close and deeply in love with the human part of him he rarely showed. V, the broken man who wanted nothing more to be protected and loved.

Now you knew both sides of the man you loved, and you didn’t want to lose that again.

Clarity seeped through the pain, weaving together the pieces left behind and keeping you solid. A wheeze escaped your lungs, sounds fading in and out as you struggled to rise from the ground. The Outsider’s voice, Vergil’s, the Void. Promises of punishing the son of Sparda, of leaving him still loving you while V was here to keep you happy and ignorant. Denial scraped along the already-battered walls of your head, gaze lifting just enough to see a blurry vision on the precipice of the endless sky. There the Outsider held Vergil up by his collar, framed by an endless glow without stars and no sun. Neither had noticed you, so lost in the Void’s howl and in the Outsider’s chiding promise. It made your teeth grind, head swimming with desperation and the unrivaled need to stop this, to stop everything. No more--no more pain, no more suffering, no more punishments.

You dragged yourself, body trembling uncontrollably as the Foresight battled every inch of it. A fail safe, meant to protect you from memories that might bring about shattering. Right now it definitely wasn’t helping, but that didn’t mean you would stop. The hard ground of the debris scraped your legs as you went, but they were practically numbed by everything else. Whale oil rising like bile in your throat, eyes black and reflecting the Void’s glow like obsidian crystals. Your tears glistened, dew on their surface, falling steadily through the harsh, wheezing breaths. Clearer now, clearer every second. Vergil stared sightless ahead, eyes glazed and empty as he accepted the Outsider’s fate. His look of defeat shook you, made every cell scream out in denial and sorrow. Both of you were so young, so foolish, so desperate, so headstrong, so hurt--not anymore, not. Any. More.

“Vergil Sparda, this is your punishment for hurting my child.”

Enough. We’ve all had enough.

The Outsider jolted when you reached out, grasping the back of his jacket with shaking fists and pulling yourself upright. What a sight you must have been--body riddled in scratches from dragging yourself, pale and shaking while the wind whipped your hair into a senseless mess. The deity immediately gasped, dropping Vergil’s limp form in shock and leaving him sitting on the edge of the debris, jolted back into sense. For a brief moment, your eyes met. Agonized, horror-filled blue staring into the glistening black, reflecting so many emotions, apologies, and regrets. When he was like this, his expressions reminded you so much of V. You knew what he was seeing, feeling, remembering. Seeing what his choices wrought, the tragedy and despair left in the wake of an arrogant child’s selfishness and fear. And that’s what he looked like now--unabashed vulnerability, tears in his eyes threatening to drip down already-wet cheeks. That past was done, it was gone and left in the rubble of memories that longer mattered.

Here, now...that mattered.

“Y/N…!” The Outsider rasped in horror, griping both your shoulders as you grabbed the lapels of his jacket without letting go. It caused him to crouch to your level, expression filled with panic and shock as he continued on horrified, “You shouldn’t be here, you still...still--How did you manage to--”

You couldn’t explain, couldn’t give him the chance to send you back again. You choked on a shuddering breath, arms reaching up around his neck and pulling closer into the only embrace you had ever shared with the deity. The one who gave you life, saved you from the abyss and spent the past few years trying not to let you break--his methods were not the right ones to take, lingering in cruelty and the very pain he knew too. How could you expect a creature who knew nothing but the empty, mindless howl of the Void to know anything of comfort and affection? He had no one to teach him mercy, to remind him of what humanity was like. To let go, no more pain of betrayal, no more anger.

He froze when you rested your face on his neck, body held against his as wind whipped around you both mercilessly. There was no warmth, not physically--but his chill was a comfort all its own, a familiarity that kept you from shattering and calmed the Foresight into a low hum.

“N...no more…” Your voice was so tiny, a broken sob against his frozen skin as you squeezed tighter, “Please...please...No more.”

The Outsider swallowed hard, body still rigid as his hands very gently settled on your back. Like he was holding glass thinner than paper, on the verge of breaking. He grit his teeth, you could hear the grinding of his jaw from this close.

“You’re suffering,” He managed to rasp out, voice shaking with restrained emotion as one hand threaded through your hair, “My child, my only precious flower--you remember don’t you? You remember what he--”

I remember. I remember remember remember. And I never want to stop.

“I don’t care…!” Your body shook harder, voice taking on the hard edge of resolve even while tears swam in your vision again. The memories hadn’t stopped, they refused to cease in their brutal assault. Vergil never coming to save you, the pain of being shot, giving birth alone and soaked to the bone. Blood on the sand, your son’s wail on the wind. His face, his tiny hands… You sucked in a shaking breath, heart aching as a broken whimper slipped from your lips, “Please...don’t take him from me...I can’t lose it again…”

I want to know him. I want to know Nero as my son. I want to know Vergil as my everything.

You didn’t want this pain to be a reminder anymore. You wanted to make new memories with your child, to make up for all the mistakes and everything he lost. To go on without knowing, to live in ignorance as his friend and listen to him speak of the sorrow that came with being abandoned...you would rather die. Guilt was not a stranger, and you knew it was possible to grow and heal from it again. Because you weren’t that broken soul in the Void anymore, having tasted what a happy life could truly be like at the very core of your being. A perfect word would have been Vergil coming to save you back then, stealing you away to a quiet place to give birth and raise your child together as better people, to move on. But this world was far from perfect, and that was okay. To learn, to move on and grow from what happened seemed too good to be true, but it was all you wanted, all you had.

Vergil stared at you with absolute agony, those tears managing to trickle out against his will down sharp cheeks. You loved remembering him, those special first moments. Getting to hold his hand, a first kiss, that night...it had been everything, bringing familiarity to the time you had been with V. Of course the poet felt so right, so deeply familiar and necessary--your body remembered him, saw the black-haired human in every tender, vulnerable moment with Vergil. Getting to have them both was such a blessing, to learn that part of your soulmate so intimately and without restraint. He held so much back, drowned out by fear and pride that continued to choke his happiness. Things could change, they had to.

The Outsider sucked in a sharp breath at your words, hands shaking where they gripped the back of your blouse. You could teach him too, could help him remember what empathy felt like underneath the howling Void.

The cold has numbed you, but it doesn’t have to be that way.

“I...I could return V to you…” The Outsider whispered, staring over your head into the empty abyss as the wind continued to howl for everything you had lost, “That man, he...he hurt you, broke--You. I almost lost my only child, the only gift this wretched place allowed me.”

In a way, the deity was a child too, not understanding his own emotion and lashing out in kind. All this nonsense had been born in how much he cared for you, so much that the idea of losing you scared him into cruelty. It wasn’t right, he hurt you and the people close to you in the process. It couldn’t continue like this anymore, not on the path of revenge and tragedy.

You let out a soft breath, eyes squeezing shut as you tried to push back the tears. Your pain wasn’t helping him see clearly, nor was it aiding you in any way. It had to end, this ceaseless cycle—The Outsider needed to understand that you could handle this, that you could grow and stand on your own feet while carrying the weight of these memories around on your shoulders.

“I know what that feels like,” You whimpered, breaths attempting to slow but still hitching with each swallowed sob. That fear he felt, the panic...you felt that all and more, “Please, father...don’t make me lose my child again.”

You felt him suck in a shuddering breath, eyes a glassy black as they stared over your shoulder into the abyss. In all the time you knew the Outsider, he had never shown emotion like this. Muscles locked to the point of shaking lightly with strain, air pressed through his nostrils like he was afraid opening his mouth would release an unwilling scream of denial. Because you knew deep down, knew he could understand your desire to keep these memories. Seeing you lose Nero had to hurt him too, bringing on the unwilling fear of experiencing the same thing once you almost slipped away. He had tried the only way he knew how, and now…that fear was caging you in, born of desperation and panic that kept the entire ocean at bay in the hopes of saving you from drowning. But he could never stop it from trickling through, not for long.

You delicately ran your fingers through his hair, feeling the wind send the short locks tossing back and forth. He felt so...human, real and solid. You were willing to bet he wasn’t always the God of this place, that his vulnerability and immaturity had roots in something deeply human. He froze sharply at the contact, hands squeezing the fabric of your blouse so tightly you wondered if it had started tearing.

“If I could take you away from this place, I…” You whispered, eyes closing softly as your body battled exhaustion, “The Void has made you cold, father. I just...I cannot let these feelings go.”

You leaned back just enough to stare at the Outsider’s face, obsidian meeting obsidian and reading each other’s faces. His eyes were wide with unrestrained desperation and sorrow, echoing so many years spent in this miserable place without the sun. You placed both hands gingerly on his cheeks, thumbs stroking along his high cheekbones as if waiting for tears to be shed.

“Father,” You whispered, voice aching with so many things better left unsaid as you stared at him steady and imploring, “Ignorance won’t protect us anymore.”

You hear Vergil suck in a breath at that, air dragged through teeth clenched so hard they might crack. The Outsider’s reaction was no different, those obsidian eyes wide and face a blank mask of shock and regret that showed no signs of fading. You knew what he was thinking, knew that desperate horror of watching you come so close to shattering, to becoming one with that deep, endless abyss. He was not used to fear, he was not used to being afraid. And that was something you could understand, something you wished so terribly to ease in any way you could. But this pain was so necessary, the deepest ache in your chest that gripped with icy fingers and refused to let go--shattering or not, painful or not...the memories were yours, and you wanted to keep them. You owed this to yourself, to Vergil, and especially to Nero. There were so many things you wanted to say to your son, and those things needed to happen above all else.

There was a pause of silence between you all while the Outsider froze in place, seeming lost in thought as his endless gaze seemed to bore into your own. The only thing that broke the tense air was the howling winds from all around, even the moaning chorus of suffering voices seeming to quiet as they waited for the Outsider’s choice. If he decided against you, there would be a fight that could not be won, a fight that would more than likely end with you shattering from the stress already on your body. That was a risk the Outsider couldn’t afford to take, even with all the powers he held over you. The deep burn of foresight, icy veins of the Void’s magic as it traveled through your body--every breath was given to you by this ancient being, every bit of life you now carried each and every day. Without him, you would have never met Vergil, and for that you would always be grateful.

The Outsider did not move for a very long time, only leaning back after his black eyes finally blinked at you. His hands slowly lowered from your form, falling back limply to his sides as he looked away, something akin to regret flashing across his face. Exhaustion and acceptance followed like close companions, his eyes so very tired as the man rose to his feet, leaving you kneeling on the floor before him with a pleading expression on your face. For a moment, he could only stare down at you with more sorrow than one creature should carry, the chilled winds of the Void making his hair blow wildly in several directions. He looked more ancient than ever, the years spent in this wretched place more than showing on a face that was far too young to look so lost. The Outsider stared at you as if prepared to lose you forever, and that was the moment you realized he had finally made his choice.

“...I only wanted to keep you safe,” He spoke so softly, tone feather-light and echoing through the space as if he had screamed it out to the chorus of the Void. He rested one shaking hand upon your hair, eyes closing as his voice became ragged and somehow even softer, “I did not wish...to see you end.”

You nodded once, fresh tears dripping from your black eyes and onto the debris underneath you. The pain of his betrayal, every place you had traveled to, the lost memories and empty dreams...He didn’t know what else to do to keep you from shattering, fueled by desperation and that cruelty he knew so well. You didn’t want to hold onto it any more, these deep feelings of anger and regret that threatened so strongly to overtake you. They were nothing more than a burden now, and inexcusable weight that clung to your shoulders with sharp, unyielding claws. They had been your companions for far too long, and now...now they needed to leave.

You gripped the Outsider’s wrist tenderly with both hands, turning his palm over so you could press a kiss to it. He sucked in a sharp breath at the action, listening quietly as you replied in that hoarse, ragged tone, “I know...and I will be safe...I will,” Your black eyes raised, the color finally slipping back into your normal tone, the whites returning and glistening with tears, “Let me remember the people I love.”

You could see the lingering hesitation even as the Outsider pulled his hand away, eyes downcast and body stepping back toward the precipice. His gaze lingered for a moment on the form of Vergil, seeing the way he looked at you in absolute agony, the tears slipping down the sharp line of his jaw and the shattered expression in his eyes. There was remaining resentment there in those obsidian orbs, but he clenched his jaw and said nothing to the Son of Sparda. If you had to guess, the Deity knew that the only words that could get through the half-breed’s thick skull would have to be yours, and he wasn’t about to interfere with that again. So he paused only to look back at you again, face slipping back into his usual, neutral expression before you watched him disappear into a cloud of obsidian crystal shards without another word. You could understand that he needed time again, needed to process everything before addressing it again.

He didn’t take away the gifts he had given you, at the very least. But the burn of Foresight was now gone, leaving only the familiar chill of the Void as it seeped through your limbs. For a minute you could only wheeze, trying to get the chaotic storm of emotions in check and feeling Vergil’s gaze linger on you with its familiar intensity. There were so many things between you now since the trials, since you attacked him in the Qliphoth. Those memories from Fortuna, of your first love and traveling together around the city--they mingled with every terrible, unspeakable event that took place after, all the terror and suffering that threatened to cloud out all the wonderful things. At the forefront was the guilt, the aching regret about what happened to Nero, of leaving him on the orphanage steps. It tore you up inside like razor blades, so very painful and absolutely unyielding.

You slowly rose to your feet, turning towards the Son of Sparda with small steps and watching as his gaze lowered toward the ground. He didn’t dare look up at you as you approached, chest rising and falling with shallow breaths and hands shaking at his side. Vergil had never looked this way to you before, so lost and filled with absolute emotion. It reminded you of how V had acted in the Qliphoth tree, the desperate pleas and the guilty torment of knowing that he would have to leave you at the end of his mission. God, you were so grateful for getting a chance to know that side of him, to love his human half in its entirety before it eventually returned. Those moments were so precious, to witness the vulnerable things he tucked away behind all that anger and pride...All Vergil had wanted was someone to save him, to be loved and cherished like any other person wanted too. And you had more than enough love to give, leaving no room for anger or grudges left behind from past mistakes.

When he spoke, his voice came out low and hoarse, its tone and cadence barely managing to whisper over the Void’s howl, “Why...Why did you choose to remember? He...He could have made you happy, could have given you back the man who knew how to cherish you. But you...you…”

You ignored the question, sliding both hands through his slicked back, white hair and lingering there for a few moments while he breathed faster. Tension was there in his trembling shoulders, in the way those icy blue eyes stared down at the ground and refused to look away. You could feel it now, those walls he kept up for so long bending under the weight of regret, of truth and long desired affections. What point was there in fighting things now? At the end of the day he could no longer hide what he wanted anymore, could no longer hide behind the shield of indifference or spite. All that could possibly remain now was guilt and regret, of self loathing that had seeded itself deep inside since the moment his mother had died. Vergil had so many reasons to hate himself, for things that weren’t even his fault, and for things that didn’t matter anymore. All that mattered was leaving those mistakes behind, remembering the good things and striving to do better.

He had that ability inside of him, you knew he did. The ability to change, to atone for his sins.

“Why?” Vergil continued to ask, breathing growing more and more ragged as you lowered yourself in front of his hunched form, both hands cupping his chilled cheeks and forcing his tormented gaze to rise up to meet you. There was agony in its depths, denial and confusion that made your heart ache so terribly, “All I’ve ever done is hurt you…! I...hurt everyone, took from everyone--V could have given you everything you wanted, without the things that make me who I am.”

You rested your forehead against his, tears forming on your lashes like dew drops and dripping in crystalline droplets onto his thighs. You could feel it when his breath hitched again, sounding like he tried so hard not to cry.

“...We don’t have to hurt anymore,” You whispered, voice soft and just as ragged as his own. Both hands rested on his chest, smoothing over the lines of his vest and feeling his heart race through the fabric, “That man who made me so happy is a part of you, Vergil...It was that same part of you that brought me so much happiness in Fortuna, that you buried under the fear of vulnerability. You made mistakes, we both did...All I want now is to move on from them, to be happy with you, with Nero--we owe that to him after all he’s endured.”

You felt his jaw clench at the mention of Nero, knowing exactly what went through his head. Your child, shivering in the cold and wailing for parents who were both gone, a little boy growing up thinking that he had no family, that they abandoned him without a second thought--then as an adult, having his arm ripped off by the man he learns to be his father, left bleeding on the garage floor in pain. Years and years of not knowing, of aching to learn who his family was, then one strolls in and literally takes a whole limb. The agony that must have caused, and now...now there was still more to learn, the truth hovering so close and the boy didn’t even know it. All those things had been mistakes, yes, but it was Vergil who had to own up to them, who had to learn and try to do better. And that had to be the hardest part, to learn from one’s mistakes and not sink into the pit of self-loathing to cope.

You let out a slow breath, trying to gather your words through the storm of guilt and emotions that still carried from the regained memories. Each breath felt like ice, words coming out hoarse yet firm as you told the son of Sparda, “You...You have to let those things go, Vergil, you have to talk to your son...Please...please. Please don’t leave us again, learn from what has happened and do better.”

We both can do better. For all of us.

You heard him swallow audibly, hands clenched into fists at his side as Vergil fought every ounce of instinct he had built up over the years. To hide his emotions away, to swallow them down and feel nothing but resentment and anger like it would somehow protect him. Self loathing was at its core, the final wall of his defenses once everything was gone. At the end of the day you knew that Vergil needed to learn how to be happy, to live with the things he had done and make reparations for them as best he could. Protecting others, doing things for the sake of good and not greed...those parts of him were real and tangible, you had held them in your arms once, kissed them with tender lips. They had been true and filled with so much emotion, and they wouldn’t just go away at a swipe of the Yamato.

Vergil finally looked up to meet your gaze, the faintest hint of tears clinging to his grey lashes as you swiped them away with your thumb. It was still so odd to see so much emotion on his face, torment obvious and out in the open.

“...How can you still love me after all of that?” He whispered incredulously at the look you wore, one of deep adoring and exhaustion as you continued to cup his cheeks, “I...I don’t understand. I don’t deserve it.”

His words made your heart ache terribly, thudding away in your chest like a caged bird trying to be free. Vergil’s was pounding too, closer to hard fists on steel walls of a person trying so desperately to escape a deep agony.

You stared into his eyes as steadily as you could, voice coming out soft and reassuring as you explained, “Because love isn’t about deserving it or not, it’s about feeling emotion... and acknowledging it without running away,” You reached down, threading your fingers with the trembling digits of his own and giving a light squeeze, “Vergil Sparda is meant to be mine, and I don’t want anything else but that...I want to be with the one I was made for, and...that person is you.”

You broke me, and I broke you...I think we’re done breaking each other, aren’t we?

All that was left was to pick up the pieces.

You were shocked when Vergil’s arms pulled you against him hard, wrapped around your waist and squeezing as he buried his face against your shoulder. You could feel his ever breath, hear it rattle and shake with rasping sobs that had ached so desperately to be free this whole time. God, it felt good to finally be held by him again, every precious memory returned and emotions so very raw. You could feel them now, everything he had bottled up inside pouring out like water from a shattered glass. How it must have felt to finally acknowledge so many years of repressed emotion, to embrace someone without the heavy shackles of pride or hesitation. You embraced him back with accepting arms, eyes squeezing shut at the relief that came with being with the one you loved again. Whole and complete, just as tender as when he was V yet somehow more bittersweet.

This was everything you had craved without even knowing it.

You pressed kiss after kiss to his neck and shoulder, breaths slowing and the hollow ache in your heart finally fading at his touch. He was so strong, body holding fast against yours and the lines of it so very familiar. The storm inside was familiar too, you an anchor for the son of Sparda when he needed it most.

“...I…” Vergil whispered after some time, voice low and hesitant as he swallowed back some of his emotion. You could feel his arms squeeze tighter, face pressed to your neck as he admitted, “I...I love you...Even back then, when I left, you...I thought about you the entire time I was on the ferry, yet I just...just…”

Forgot. That was the Outsider’s doing, wiping Vergil’s memory so that when you returned he could be punished without any complications. You let out a soft breath, leaning back to touch your forehead to his once again just as the portal started forming underneath you--crystalline hands curled upwards, gently wrapping around your forms as the Void’s hollow wailing grew louder and louder. As if saying goodbye, crying out in mourning for something that it felt like it was losing. Even if he wasn’t visible, you could feel the Outsider watching you both, his trepidation like a tangible force that filled the empty skies of the Void like thick, hovering storm clouds. He was afraid for you, he was lonely and alone. But you would not be leaving for good--even with the dark memories it carried, the empty blackness was a part of you, and so was the black-eyed God who resided there. You would return again someday, after having a chance to heal.

“I know,” You whispered to Vergil, feeling the Void’s howl ringing sharply in your ears as it started to fall away, “It’s over now, that pain is over. Let’s go home, and see our son.”

~~~

~Four Months Later~

You could tell it was still in the early hours of the morning, the sun barely peeking through the curtains of your bedroom in orange, pink colored hues. Warm--everything felt warm now, safe and comforting as you had sought for so long. More than anything, things felt correct, like every missing piece of your puzzle had finally fallen into place. Absolute in its entirety, perfected in its security. The way light air billowed through the windows, making curtains drift in a slow dance of dark blue fabric in the direction of your bed--Vergil’s arm wrapped around your form, his steady heartbeat under your ear and the warmth he shared with your body. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt peace like this, a rightness that seemed to fill up your form like honeyed milk and bringing with it a sleepy peacefulness that made it incredibly difficult to rise for the day. Then again, you were a better morning person than the son of Sparda, who would no doubt awaken surly and annoyed as he usually did.

So many things had happened in the past few months since you returned from the Void, so many things and so many emotions to work through. You had fallen onto the sand with Vergil by your side, Nero and the others rushing out to meet you in relief and worry at the way you both looked--even more so when you collapsed upon the white haired boy and sobbed, refusing to let go as apology after apology had burst from your lips. Eventually Vergil was able to coax you into letting go, and then...well, you had to tell Nero everything. Every regained memory, every terrible tragedy and all the things you so desperately wanted to say sorry for. He had to know how much he was loved, that you so terribly wanted to stay with him but circumstances never allowed. He listened to it all in wide eyed shock, but you had the feeling that he could sense for a long time that there was something that tied you both together, something neither of you could understand until now.

You were telling the truth, and he couldn’t very well deny that. His best friend had been his mother all along, and that was a lot to take in. He was struggling with the knowledge, but not as much as the fact that he wasn’t abandoned for being a half demon, that his mother went through so much terrible tragedy and died on the steps of Fortuna’s orphanage. All those years of searching and filling himself with questions and resentment, all of it for nothing. His mother had come back eventually, and that whole time he thought himself the older one, like he was meant to protect her like a little sister. Things had become such a mess, weaved together in chaotic knots that took a solid hour to weave with Kyrie there to support Nero while he absorbed it all. You were shocked to see that this info was somehow a relief to him, and even more so when he embraced you like a mother as if it was somehow the easiest thing in the world...like he had wanted nothing more.

Mind you, Nico was in absolute shock about all of this--she kept staring in slack jawed awed at you and Vergil, unable to wrap her head around any of it. You, one of her closest friends, had given birth to a punk like Nero? How the hell was such a thing supposed to make sense?

Naturally, the very next thing Nero did was punch Vergil square in the jaw.

Both you and Dante had to hold the hot-tempered devil hunter back as he shouted curses at his father, railing into him for everything he had done to you and all the pain he caused. All his childhood questioning, all the pain--if Vergil hadn’t been such a dick so much suffering could have been avoided. You protested in between that things were fine, that it was in the past, but the son of Sparda didn’t say a word, didn’t fight back for once. Her merely sat on the ground where he had landed after the blow, rubbing his jaw with one hand and staring blankly at the ground. He was trying so hard, you could tell--sorrow lingered in the depths of his icy blue eyes, mingling with self-loathing as Nero reiterated back all the terrible things he had done and what a terrible person it made him. You wanted to stop him, but...Nero deserved to speak his mind, and Vergil had reparations to make.

After some firm discussions on the matter, you and Vergil agreed that it would be best to stay at Devil May Cry while things settled down, to find an outlet for the son of Sparda that would actually let him help people. Kyrie and Nico were both disappointed that you’d be moving, as were the children, but...right now was a sensitive time for Vergil, one where you were too nervous to let him be around things that would only make him feel worse. Until his head was sorted out, Fortuna was too much of a terrible memory for you both to literally live in the location of, and staying at Devil May Cry would be for the best until that was sorted out.

Regardless, the next few months passed somewhat peacefully. You and Vergil joined Devil May Cry, and set about fixing Redgrave City and rescuing any survivors still trapped inside. There were buildings to be fixed, roads that needed repairing, and broken families that needed to come back together. You knew this would be hard on Vergil too, but it was absolutely necessary that he try to make up for all the terrible things he had done. Every life taken in his pursuit of power would weigh on him for a while, and that wasn’t going to change any time soon, but...this did help. It was a while before the son of Sparda wasn’t listless anymore, that you could get more emotion from him that wasn’t guilt or regret. Mind you, Dante being irritating did help with that, but even he was worried the first few months when he would taunt Vergil and get nothing but sadness from his brother.

The surly man had been through too much trauma, seen too much. Having you by his side was his only anchor for a long time.

Which led back to present day, you wrapping a leg around his waist and letting out a heavy sigh of impatience when Vergil still slept soundly. You would think that someone like him, all pride and silly rules, would be much better about getting up in the morning. Instead, he was somehow worse than Dante, all annoyed grunts and exhausted stares as he dragged himself downstairs for a cup of coffee or tea. At least Dante would come down sleepy but cheerful, usually around noon or one o'clock in search of day old pizza. You knew trying to wake the son of Sparda up would not be an easy task, but you knew that there would be missions today that needed preparations--Nero and Nico would be joining you, after all, and there was nothing more exciting than the idea of spending time with your son.

You hummed softly, slowly rising from where you lay against his side and sitting up on Vergil’s lap with mischief in your gaze. It was surprising--he had taken months to get used to sleeping next to you without jolting awake in defensive positions, and even longer to get used to you touching him. So the fact that you could now settle your entire weight on his waist and place your hands on his chest was a pleasant show of how far he had come. Christ, he was such a beautiful man--those grey lashes were resting against his cheeks, face peaceful and calm in rest with messy hair and kissable lips. You could have stared at the hard line of his jaw for hours, wanting nothing more than to nibble it with your teeth and smooch for hours on end. Such a hard urge to resist, especially considering that he definitely should have been awake right now to start getting ready.

He stirred a little bit when you leaned forward, kissing a slow line from his shoulders and neck to that jaw you had been admiring so much. He was so very warm, and hard by the feeling of him pressing against your ass. It would be fairly hard to stay asleep with you rubbing on him like that, worshiping his chest with your mouth and hands while he stirred just a little bit more. There was no denying that low, rumbling hum of sound that came from his chest, peaceful expression shifting into something far grumpier as he stretched out under your hips. Reminiscent of a mighty panther waking with a low growl, eyes still not opening even as you leaned your face against his neck and gently bit where a vein pulsed steadily under the skin.

You weren’t surprised by the low rumble of his voice under your ear, sounding incredibly tired and slightly grumpy as he groused, “I thought you agreed only to awaken me early for emergencies, brat.”

There had been some sort of agreement--but you were a little too distracted to remember it, tongue sliding up his warmed skin with a soft purr of, “But it is an emergency, my heart...I’ll simply perish without your help.”

You were being a bit cheeky this morning, feeling a surge of mischief and glee when his hips couldn’t help but shift slightly underneath yours. That pressure had to be a bit constricting on his cock right about now, but you weren’t getting much of a reaction out of him yet--he never did fall for your dramatic claims.

“Oh?” Vergil murmured, eyes still not opening as you bit down on his left earlobe, heartbeat quickening in your chest as he continued on, “Will you now? You certainly have a lot of energy for someone close to perishing.”

That last word turned into a bit of a grunt when you purposely rubbed yourself against his cock, feeling its hard length shift and squeeze between your bodies. To be honest, this was probably doing you in more than him, that firm pressure on your clit making you moan breathily and lean against his form like a cat in heat. Your panties did nothing to sully the friction, arousal making its home in your abdomen and pooling warmth down into your core like melting honey. Vergil was certainly able to catch your mood, letting out an amused rumble of sound when you breathed heavily against his neck, rutting against his cock again with absolutely no shame. Honestly, a past version of you might have been embarrassed to act like this, especially with someone as prideful as the Son of Sparda. But you well enough by this point that he wasn’t phased by your unabashed desire--rather he enjoyed when you gave him this kind of attention, like it stroked his ego.

It definitely did.

“Vergil…” You whined, wrapping both arms around his neck and pressing your entire body against his when he purposely tilted his head to the side as if feigning sleep, “Don’t be mean--I let you sleep longer today that I did yesterday.”

He chuckled lightly at that, finally cracking one eye open to stare at you in his typical, superior sort of way. Honestly, you were a bit dazed for a moment at how handsome he was, white hair a tousled mess on his pillow and lips curving into a bemused little smirk at the desperate expression on your face. Vergil had a special way of looking absolutely, arrogantly smug, especially when he knew how badly you wanted it. But he was also weak to your pleading, and even more so with you all over him and looking so very tempting in just a tank top and some panties--he’d be a foolish man to refuse you in even the most dire situations, although he had to get his fun in somewhere.

The half-demon clicked his tongue, head tilting back and eyes closing again as he replied to you in a purposely sleepy tone, “Maybe you should ask me nicely, doll, and I’ll think about indulging you.”

You bit your lip, knowing full well he wasn’t about to walk around aroused for the better part of the morning, especially not with work to do and especially not while meeting with your son. But it would be silly of you to call him on that bluff, especially since he was prideful enough to prove you wrong just for the hell of it. And quite frankly, you’d lose out far more than him with such a foolish game.

A sigh left your lips, body falling limply against his in a show of defeat, “...Please?” You murmured softly, chin resting on his chest as you stared at him imploringly, “Please, Vergil?”

His smirk widened at that, showing his pearly white teeth in accompaniment with his equally smug reply, “You could always try calling me ‘sir’ just to sweeten it a bit, brat.”

“Now you’re just pushing it.”

It warmed you thoroughly when your huffed reply made the half-breed laugh, the sound sleepy and smooth as he finally yielded and wrapped both arms around your form. It felt so good to be held by him, your body made to fit against the hard lines of his own. the sensation only grew deeper when he rolled over to press you into the bed, mouth catching your lips in a deep kiss and hands holding him up on either side of your head. Whatever grumpiness that plagued him upon waking faded away with your tongue stroking over his, breaths mingly and hips pressed against each other in a slow grind. You’d be hard pressed to miss his desire now, especially with him rutting it against your wet heat in those slow, deep presses that made your breath catch in desperation. Christ, you were needy--and he absolutely adored that about you, wanted to indulge every chance he got, even if it meant teasing you a bit first.

You were panting when his mouth slipped to your jaw, a growl in his throat while he kissed a line down to your chest and lingered there for a moment. You practically trembled when one hand tugged up your tank top, those kissable lips latching onto one nipple and making your hips rise at the slow, purposeful suction he gave. Christ, his tongue...he was merciless this morning, absolutely ruthless. The half breed swirled the wet appendage over the sensitive bud in his mouth, making you whimper and fist his hair with both hands. So sensitive in the morning, becoming a writhing mess under his ministrations in a matter of seconds. He let out a satisfied hum, blue eyes looking up at you from under his lashes as he released your breast with a hollow pop, moving onto the next.

You were already drenched by that point, anymore foreplay absolutely not needed, but that wasn’t stopping Vergil. He would willingly draw this out hours if you had it, bringing you to the edge of orgasm over and over again without satisfaction, until you were sobbing with need. And then he would be the opposite other days, literally making you come over and over until you were begging to stop, until the overstimulation was too much. Unfortunately, today offered very little time with all the plans in mind, so he could only get his fun in short intervals. Honestly, you could have taken two of him with how aroused just the morning wanting had made you, and that was plainly obvious when the half-breed tugged your panties down your legs, tossing them to somewhere in your room.

You practically sobbed with need as he plunged his fingers into your sheath, the slide easy and wet as he tested your resistance, finding absolutely none. Your toes curled into the bed sheets, head tilted back as he kissed along your neck and jaw with those fingers working below. Curling inside, searching for any sweet points and making slick, lewd sounds with every thrust. You could only squirm, at his mercy and trembling with a building orgasm in your lower half. God, why were you always so sensitive? He had just barely started and you felt already inches away from coming on his fingers, hips rising to meet him as a desperate moan left your parted lips. No wonder he could overstimulate you so god damn easily--without edging you would just orgasm easily without much work at all.

“Ahhh...ahhh...g-god, please--” You whimpered against his neck, hips rolling against his hand as you squeezed your eyes shut, “Vergil...Vergil I’m so--”

“Already?” The son of Sparda murmured, stilling his fingers and chuckling at that half-choked sound of desperation you made in response, “I thought you were made of sterner stuff than that, doll.”

You weren’t really in the mood to be prideful today, his teasing barely registering with you as the feeling of that orgasm started to dull. It was so very disappointing when his digits left your throbbing insides, a trail of slick following them as proof of your arousal. That might have been a bit embarrassing if you had any shame left, but that wasn’t really the case after everything you had been through with this man. The son of Sparda seemed pleased, icy blue eyes lingering on his fingers before drawing them into his mouth, tasting your essence as he leaned back to gaze over your form with a hint of adoration in their depths. The way Vergil looked at you, lingering on each scar and left over wound from battles past...it made you heart only ache more, body desperate for his affections and warming further as you stared back with a pleading expression of your own.

Luckily enough for you, Vergil seemed to be far more merciful today, placing both hands on your thighs and pushing them back and apart. You bit your lip, knees up to your chest and held there right where your legs bent with his strong hands. So exposed, spread nicely for him and ready to be taken. The half-breed gave you a look that told you not to move your limbs in the slightest, letting go so he could pull down the thin, cotton dress pants hiding his length from your eyes. You could have moaned when the hard appendage slipped free, precum already beading on the tip smeared away by his thumb and looking so damn perfect for you and you alone. God, he was beautiful everywhere, cock lengthy enough to press deep inside and thick enough to spread you without hurting too much. And with how aroused you were, it would be absolutely painless, your body practically aching to suck him inside and feel each stroke along your inner walls.

Vergil didn’t seem keen on waiting any longer either, pressing the tip against your folds and sucking in a breath as he stroked over your clit for a few seconds, just savoring the wet warmth. You were trembling, toes curling with anticipation and heart pounding quickly in your chest when he finally pressed it against your throbbing entrance, Vergil gritting his teeth at the way your body molded around his length. A perfect fit, his cock slipping easily inside and buried deep in a matter of seconds. Your eyes rolled back a bit in your skull at the feeling of his tip brushing your cervix, filling you up entirely and leaving not a single inch that wasn’t being touch by him. You had no doubt that he could feel your every breath, every shift of muscle as you fought the urge to rut against him as the desperation grew higher.

“G-god, please…” You whimpered, shuddering when he leaned over your form and pressed both hands to your legs again to press them back. The movement shifted his cock inside, burying it just a bit deeper and making you gulp in a quick breath of air, “F-fuck...fuck…”

“So crass, my doll,” Vergil hissed, voice breathless as he leaned down to nip at your neck again, “You’re absolutely drenched...you must have really worked yourself up this morning.”

That was certainly an understatement. When he slid his cock out of your throbbing sheath it was a wet slide, plunging back in with a wet sound that seemed overly loud in the quiet of your bedroom. A choked whimper left your lips at the pace he began to set, wasting no time in being gentle with you with how obviously you wanted it. Your hands blindly reached for him in the mess of sensations scattering your thoughts, one wrapped around his neck and the other burying itself in his hair as your lips pressed hard together in the next instant. Vergil always kissed you the same way when you made love, like he was starving and you were the first meal he was allowed in so many years. You could only hang on as his cock plunged in and out below, roughly pressing your hips into the bed as each breath mingled desperately between your molding lips and tongues. Desperate, mindless, both seeking pleasure from each other as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

And it was. Vergil felt like home, felt correct in the best way possible. Body to body, legs wrapping around his waist now as he fucked you into the mattress--one hand cupped your warming cheeks, the other bracing himself upwards so he didn’t crush you with his weight. Each soft sound of pleasure that came from his lips was like music, panting gasps or subdued moans that strained with each thrust into your sheath. You loved looking at his face, seeing him come undone with pleasure and lose all composure as he shared his body with you, became vulnerable with you.

You were so close now, his hips grinding against your clit with each thrust. It was quite the sensation, feeling his cock bumping your cervix every time he buried himself deep inside and feeling so very filled to the brim. The growing orgasm was coming much faster than you thought it would, your body still just as sensitive and absolutely trembling as it pushed for that pleasure like your life depended on it. Christ, how would you be able to work after this? He was so easily making a mess out of you, and something about that was absolutely tantalizing. Not that he was any better--you could already tell he was getting close too, the son of Sparda burying his face against your neck and body tense as he ground himself inside of you with a desperation that was starting to match your own.

“Y/N...fuck…” He hissed, voice low and breathless as he pressed his mouth to your skin, words slightly muffled as he moaned, “You feel so good, I can’t--fuck--”

You couldn’t even form a reply other than a wordless moan of your own, head tilted back and eyes squeezed shut as your orgasm started to crest. It throbbed through your insides, hips jolting upwards as a half sobbed cry of release left your lips and your body clenched around him like a vise. The half-breed grit his teeth, the tightening around his cock sending him to his own peak shortly after. His hips stuttered in their thrusts, a hoarse groan muffled against your skin as he buried himself deep to fill you up with his load. You could have melted at the feeling of him spilling inside, body going limp with satisfaction and toes curling into the mattress as you rode out the storm of pleasant sensations. Warm, thick, and so very deep--making love to him felt so perfect, and getting to have him again and again was more than you ever thought you’d be allowed. Bad memories, pain, suffering...they couldn’t have been further from you both at that moment, quietly coming down from your orgasms in the safety of your bedroom.

You don’t know how much time passed with you there, Vergil’s body pressed to your own but careful not to crush you with his weight. The throb of pleasure was quieting now into a warm glow, limbs limp and body deliciously spent as you let out a soft, contented sigh. An ideal way to spend your day involved staying like this with him for hours, maybe longer, and getting to enjoy each other as much as you wanted. That wasn’t likely today, but it still felt nice to lie there for a few moments, sharing warmth and listening to both heartbeats slow to something far more tame. Your fingers idly traced patterns on his relaxing back muscles, your other hand in his hair and gently stroking the slightly damp locks out of his face. You could feel him melt under your touch, breathing evening out considerably and eyes closing as he savored the comfort of your affections for just a bit longer.

He never wanted to stop feeling them. And neither did you.

You expected him to pull back as he always did, to kiss you on the lips and remark upon how you should probably start getting ready. Instead, you were surprised when he let out a soft breath, tone low and uncharacteristically gentle as he wrapped both arms around your spent form.

“I love you,” He murmured, stroking one hand up into your hair and pressing a tender kiss to your jaw, “Thank you...for loving me, for...choosing me.”

Your breath caught at his words, that familiar pang of emotions squeezing your heart as you recognized the vulnerability and hesitation in his tone. Even after four months, you could feel how each past mistake weighed upon the son of Sparda, making him feel undeserving of you, undeserving of anything. No doubt Nero’s constant reminders weren’t helping with that, nor did the Outsider’s trials all that time ago. You wished that there was more that could be done to ease his pain, but knew that the only way that he could change for the better was to embrace the mistakes and do better in the future. He was, after all, half human.

So you wrapped both arms around his neck, heart beating faster in your chest as you pressed your face to his silvery-white hair and smiled softly, voice absolutely truthful in your reply to the son of Sparda.

“I love you too--and I will always choose you.”

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#devil may cry #devil may cry 5 #ebony and ivory #v x reader #vergil x reader #bonus chapter #fanfic #dmc5

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fairycosmos · 4 years

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chloe what do you do when you feel really suicidal? but like not like before- but NOW that you are grieving such a painful loss? dont need to answer but i read your a. to the anon that felt trapped and like they couldnt leave now bc their sibling died too and like you and that anon i feel the same. im so so suicidal chloe. i cry every day and night and i feel despertate but my parents just lost their child so. how do you cope... as much as its possible. what do we do? fuck.

dude i am so sorry you're in the same position as me and you are going to hate me for saying it but there is no satisfactory answer 😔 it's a cruel joke. we're in the worst pain we've ever been in, and our instinct is to want to make that stop. but we can't because now we're obligated to stay alive, where all the hurt is, because we're one of the only ones left. and we dont want to cause more of this feeling by ending it all. it's like a contract you didn't agree to and are now trapped in for the foreseeable. grief is the absolute heaviest thing a person can carry, it's a fucking nightmare. it doesn't make any sense, it doesn't have a cure and it's disorienting as fuck. it's ok to be exhausted by it. reality has been irreparably worsened and it's an absolute tragedy, it's completely unfair. personally i'm more suicidal than i've ever been, but like you, i know i'm not going to do anything. and in moments of great pain, where i want to act on those thoughts, i find myself coming back to that fact. i watch the idea of suicide run its course through my head and then i acknowledge the reality of things, that i can't leave. that it doesn't matter how sad i am and how tired i am, because i'm still here, and processing these emotions is a part of that. the urge to kill myself is there, but the actual act of suicide has never been less of an option than it is right now. so i can feel whatever i need to feel, but there's no point leaning into it or daydreaming about it. because it's not going to happen. sometimes i'm screaming and crying to myself in absolute agony while this is all going on, and sometimes i'm just sitting staring at my phone, numb. the desperation is very real, and i understand that. but it is not as urgent as it feels in the moment. no matter how many times i think i'm at my limit, i know that there's going to be tomorrow. and at the moment that sounds like a really bad thing. but i know that by waking up my parents aren't getting a call saying i'm dead, which for now is kind of the whole point. i am living to minimize their trauma, i am living for them, and an optimist would have hope that that could keep me alive long enough until i get to the point where i can eventually live for myself again. i could definitely see that for your future, even if you can't. the thing is you don't have to know what to do and you dont have to look for ways to fill the void that has been left behind by your sibling. you just have to learn to exist alongside it, and i do mean just exist. as awful as it is. waking up, putting one foot in front of the other, crying and crying and crying. that is good enough. i know it doesn't feel like much of a life, but. it's the short term answer, or so it seems to me. another thing i remind myself of is how it all comes in waves. waves are the nature of both grief, and strong suicidal urges. maybe they're always running in the background, but the moments of pure despair where you feel like you're bursting at the seams, they're so strong and harsh that they flare out faster than you realize. and they feel unbearable, and i know those moments are very frequent when you're in our position, but it's good to remember that the intensity of their nature makes them temporary. especially if the grief is fresh, every little thing triggers an avalanche of hopelessness. but some part of me believes these experiences will either a. become less persistent with time or b. become a part of us we learn how to navigate. at the moment, the simple act of being completely broken by these episodes means you're surviving them. i think it's not a matter of knowing how to cope, but knowing that if you're here to ask these questions - what do i do, how do i go on, etc - then that is proof you have been coping. and it probably doesn't feel like you have been. i think there's a common misconception that coping is thriving, letting go, having positive memories. and sure that's a part of it. but there is a lot of darkness and absolute horror to work through before that. additionally, there is no rule book on how exactly to work through it. theres just time, experience, learning what works for you and hanging on. i'm trying to hold my own hand through it, i'm trying to look at the present moment i'm in and just think about what i need at that very second. not what i'm going to do tomorrow, not what i should've done yesterday, but what i have to do right now to make it through. a lot of the time the answer is nothing, and i just sit and stare or cry, because like i said, ultimately nothing can fix it. theres no epiphany that can change what happened.

as far as practical things you can to do combat suicidal thoughts goes, i have a few suggestions that i really hope you consider as viable choices: talk to your doctor/therapist - idk where you live or what your financial situation is like, but if it's at all an option i would really urge you to seek professional help. at least let your GP know what you're dealing with so maybe they can refer you to a therapist, or give you some mental health resources. grief counselling is also a step in the right direction. having someone to talk to and implementing positive coping mechanisms into your day to day life, even if it's the last thing on earth you want to do, can work wonders. understanding your own suicidal thoughts, why you react the way you do and what you can do about it, can really come in handy when you're breaking down. it's ok to reach out. it's ok to visit different counsellors until you find one that fits you. it's ok to treat your emotional turmoil as seriously as you'd treat any physical disease. there is always support and treatment options available in some form, and it is always worth looking into.

call a (grief or suicide) hotline - i've had the hotline number open in my browser for days. if you are in a moment of crisis, it can absolutely help to have someone talk you through your emotions, listen to your pain, and then give you some gentle recommendations as to what you should do next or where to go from here. you don't have to tell them your name, you don't have to say anything you don't want to say. you're in control of the call and they care about keeping you going. you're not alone. theres also online grief support groups - i'm in a sibling loss group on fb. it's absolutely crazy how many people are in this position.

talk to your parents/family/friends - i know saying 'this is a tough one' is a giant understatement. idk if it's the same for you, but i've been isolating to cope and i don't want to tell anyone what i'm thinking because they're already having such a hard time grieving my sister. but if there's anyone you trust, i just want you to know it's alright to lean on them. it's up to you how much you open up, but the urge to keep to yourself leads nowhere. those around you can relate (to an extent) with your grief, and sharing it, talking about memories and crying together - it's fucking awful, god it's the worst thing ever, but it's necessary. and i don't want to say it helps, but a shared burden is always better than trying to shoulder it alone. you deserve to be listened to and supported. and if you think you're being an inconvenience to your loved ones, that's your inner self hatred talking. they would likely rather be there for you when you need it, than have you harm yourself because you kept it all pent up. it's a lot easier said than done, but it's important to keep in mind that it's an option.

try to create a safe space - try to remove things from your living space you could use to harm yourself with, and make the environment as comforting as possible. refer back to safe coping mechanisms/ distractions that have worked in the past - this can be as simple as going for a walk, watching stupid shit on your phone, meditation, having a crying session, writing to your sibling or just about how you feel in general. these are not suggestions that will solve anything or cure mental illness by any stretch of the imagination. they just get you out of your head. that can really make a difference.

create a crisis plan and learn what triggers you - this is a bit of a process but that's alright. being able to identify what sets you off, and being able to recognize your own toxic thinking patterns/behaviours, is the first step towards combatting them. another idea is, if you do end up talking to a loved one or a mental health professional, come up with a plan with them regarding what they should do when you're suicidal and your judgement is impaired. you can even start by just making one for yourself, like writing down a few suggestions as to what you should do when you're in a crisis, what your other options besides suicide are.

i think that's all i've got right now. i'm sorry this got so long, especially when i know nothing truly helps. i just know what it's like having all this useless life in front of you that you're going to have to fight through without the one person who always should've been there. i keep thinking about what she'd say to me if she could see me, and i know she'd be livid if i threw my life away, but. that doesn't change the fact that she didn't get to live hers, and that i miss her so so much it aches. i keep coming back to the idea that our relationship will continue to grow beyond death. i can still talk to her, reminisce with her, understand her, love her. so much of this reality was shaped by her. it's not the same as when she was here, but it's not total absence either. anyway, i'm so so sorry for your loss and i hope you can just focus on taking care of yourself, love. because your life still has so much worth and you deserve to see your own future even if you cant stand the thought. moments of happiness and peace are still 100% possible. it's just never going to feel like it did before. and it's ok if you spend the rest of your life struggling to come to terms with that fact, because at least you got to live the rest of your life. i'm sending so much love to you and i'll be here if you need a friend. one day at a time.

*no pressure to read all this you can just refer back to it whenever you feel the need

#anon #tw suicide #long post #sorry i dont shut up💖 this 1 hurt

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dayasbun · 5 years

Text

Fame - Angus Cloud (5)

Summary- a luckily timed audition leads to you falling for your new and unexpected co-star.

Warnings- okay HI welcome to my first multi chapter series woah?! this is actually so exciting for me like wow especially since angus doesn’t have any fics yet im just really really excited- so warnings! smut for sure, bad words, lotsa fluff, angst- everything in one basically. here comes a ride and I hope you enjoy :)

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5 {reading now}

You woke up to an empty bed and cold covers. With a sigh you sat up, wondering where Storm and Z had gone. Grabbing your phone, you shook your head as you read the messages on your home screen.

Babygirl Z <3: Yoooo so we dipped cuz Angus's weird-ass kinda threatened us to gtfo out cuz he wanted to spend time w you but don't tell him I told you that, I don't wanna deal w him

Lil storm!: i think the hood boy in love with you or sum- it's weird.

Angus ☁️: you free today? i got some plans for us so if you ain't you free now

Angus ☁️: i'm playin btw like if you ain't free i can change shit around

You giggled as you heard your nails click against the phone's screen as you sent responses.

-mhm i'll act like i never saw this...have a good day of filming gorgeous <3

-see storm, i highly disagree

-i'm free :) is this a date mr cloud? don’t forget we have filming today

You got up brushing your teeth and washing your face. You waited for Angus's response before picking an outfit for the day, and instead decided on making breakfast for now.

Babygirl Z <3: thanks lovely same to you!!!

Lil storm! laughed at your message

Angus ☁️: shittttt ion know maybe- n yeah ik

-i'm making breakfast, come over if you want

Angus ☁️: food?? i'm already on the way

-my trailer door is unlocked so just come in

A few minutes later you heard the heavy trailer door creak open. You flipped a pancake before turning around and facing the taller man in front of you. "Gooooood morning- you look so tired?"

"Damn, thanks Y/N you look great too!" Angus said sarcastically rolling his eyes.

"Boy, I'm kidding." You grinned wrapping your arms around his waist "How'd you sleep?"

"I slept ight, you? Any dream-"

"SHUTUP!"

"I was just checking damn, just checking!"

You let off the hug and walked back over to the stove turning off the burners. "Okay, done! Pancakes and eggs- and fruit! Can't beat that." You made both you and Angus a plate and sat them down on the small table.

You both ate with smiles on your faces, talking the whole time. You learned some more about Angus and his past, and he learned more about you and what you want your future to be like. You couldn't help but laugh when he spotted a carton of store-bought sugar cookies on your counter and insisted he eat at least five. You didn't deny his request, so he polished them off with the rest of his pancakes.

As soon as the breakfast came to a close, both of your phones dinged at the exact same time.

"That's strange," You said picking up the electrical device. You quickly unlocked it as your eyes scanned the screen, and when you finished you immediately looked up at Angus. From the look on his face, you could tell that he clearly had finished reading the message as well.

"So…" he said quietly.

"Yeah."

"Yep."

The text message wasn't too big of a deal, just a simple message from Mary of a suddenly new shooting schedule. You weren't worried until you reached the paragraph that made very clear that instead of shooting you and Angus's sex scenes next week, or possibly two weeks away, they would be shot tomorrow and for the rest of the week.

Shooting the scenes wasn't exactly the problem, it was the caliber of the scenes that you two would be shooting that was the problem. Also the fact- that though there isn't much talking during the sex scenes- you would have to memorize the lines of the new episode. Even though you and Angus were more comfortable with each other, sex scenes were not anything that you two were ready for, you guys hadn't even kissed yet, whether that was a real kiss, or a kiss practicing for the scene.

"I think we need practice."

"I agree."

"So uh..." He turned red as he picked at his nails.

You let out a sigh. "Okay so look. Basically, the scene just consists of me being naked, you being naked as well, but they're going to jimmy rig something so that obviously we aren't actually doing it. Mary told me in my message that I would have some type of pad over my you know what, and you would have some type of cup on."

"But-"

"I'm not done, wait. There are covers over us; so even though I have to give the effect of riding you, I'll just kind of be awkwardly rubbing my padded- you- know- what up against the cup."

"Okay, don't we make out before?"

"Yeah, we do." You stood up and rinsed off the plates. After placing them in the dishwasher, you turned back to your male co-star. "Okay, so it's about 11 AM right now. If we practice our lines, make out some, and I awkwardly ride you clothed in my bed, I think we should be fine..what about your plans?" You asked softly.

"It’s ight, they can wait. But there's another scene- where I smash you from the back. That's the part where I gotta show my cheeks man, damn I don't wanna show my cheeks!"

You laughed a bit "You'll be fine... tomorrow we'll be shooting probably just making out, then the next day the riding scene, and then the day after that more. And I know this seems kind of shitty, but if you read over other peoples paragraphs besides just ours, a lot of their sex scenes were moved up too, and some of the pairings are a bit weird and unexpected."

"Okay let's stop talking about it and just do it."

You nodded and silently walked into your small bedroom, sitting on the messy bed. You hadn't made it because, well you didn't exactly expect to have Angus in your bedroom, let alone to do this.

"So..."

You turned to look at him with a raised brow, "What?"

"So imma kiss you."

Why did that one sentence make your heart. Skip. So. Many. Fucking. Beats.

"Yeah well, that's what the script says right?"

He nodded and licked his lips. "Come get on my lap."

"Why? That's not in the-"

"It'll be more comfortable, especially if we doing this for a minute."

You took in a breath as you went over and straddled his lap, your legs around his waist, and your arms resting comfortably on his shoulders, wrapping around his neck.

You looked into his eyes, and god they were just gorgeous. "Angus.." You said softly.

"Yeah?"

And for .2 seconds you actually debated telling him- telling him that when you kissed him, you didn't want it just to be practice for the show. Telling him that you felt like you lived for the nights that he would facetime you and tell you dumbest shit that would just have you dead tired the next day. Telling him how much he made you laugh, and how it made you so unbearably happy every time you saw his name and knew it was the cause of your phone screen lighting up. Making sure he knew that the past 2 months of your life had gotten so much brighter just because of him.

You didn't though.

But if you had? He would've told you how he felt the exact same way. He would tell you how he loved how your eyes sparkle in the sunlight, how he loved how your nose scrunched up when you laughed. About how you were the only person who would listen to his dumb Mandela effects, even though he knew you didn't believe in all of them. And how it made him blush every time you sent him a mirror selfie on Snapchat for your streak- which he always lost.

But neither of you said anything.

Instead, you made out for a full 32 minutes with absolutely no passion, no lust, no nothing. Too scared to open up to the other due to the fear of rejection.

Until he got hard.

Again.

And that was your little 'ding!' to let you know yet again, 'he wants you.'

So your hips began to move {finally, after 32 minutes of dead nothingness} and you and Angus's lips began to fight for dominance. His hands moved from being awkwardly placed on your sides to under your shirt on your waist. Feeling his hands on your bare skin, you let out a soft moan into his mouth- which you could tell completely caught him off guard.

"Fuck you moaning for?" He teased, still not letting off of the kiss.

"For you."

He bit your lip causing you to moan yet again, your hips still bucking against his hard-on- holy fuck that felt a lot better than it should've. You grinned a bit as you felt his beard brush against your face.

"God. you're so hot."

'Oh my god' you thought, 'It's happening.'

"Baby, I have nothing on you." You replied seductively, sliding your hand down from his shoulder to his crotch.

"Fuck Jess..."

You grinned as he- wait what?

Jess- right, your characters name. Reel it in, you told yourself. This is just acting, nothing more. Just acting. Though you stayed into it, something about him calling you Jess turned you off a bit. After 10 more minutes or so you stopped, getting off of his lap and sitting on the side of him.

“Wel-”

“Yeah, that was good!” You quickly cut him off. “I definitely think our awkwardness has melted away a bit.”

“But don’t you wanna talk-”

“We have some scenes to film at 1, its 12:30 right now so we should head to wardrobe.”

Angus looked at you with a confused expression on his face, but just nodded slowly and stood up following you out.

All you two had to film was the scene of you coming back, so it was a calm and chill collection of scenes to go through. Everything ran smoothly, and by the time you two were done around 9PM, you were as tired as could be.

“You're such a good fucking actress Y/N.” Angus complimented you as you two walked back to his trailer. He offered you to stay over for the night- just to sleep of course- and you couldn't reject the offer even if you wanted to- which you didn't want to. “Thank you,” you replied softly. “You’re quite talented as well.”

“Nah girl, I'm just being me.”

You two went into his warm trailer talking of filming the scenes, and how tired you both were. You both tried to avoid the topic of the scenes you had to film tomorrow and for the rest of the week; though you were supposedly ready, it was a strangely sore topic.

Soon showers were taken, clothes were changed, and all that was left to do was cuddle.

Angus flipped off the lights and then crawled into the bed with you. You moved closer to him, listening to his rapid heartbeat as you traced hearts on his chest. “Night Redhead.” you said softly, placing a kiss against his cheek.

“Goodnight Mamas.”

And as you lay next to him listening to his light snores, you thought about something. You thought about how though today had been so amazing, and finally, you felt as though the awkwardness had melted away… it was all acting.

Angus didn't like you; that's what you told yourself. Any man would get hard if an attractive woman was sitting on his lap, so that was self-explanatory. Any man would call you baby during a heated moment, any man would talk dirty to you in a heated moment. And a good man like Angus would always make you feel comfortable when you practiced for a scene- that's all he was doing, he wanted you to feel comfortable.

You couldn't be hurt about the situation, the whole point of doing any of that was just practicing for the scenes. And after all, Angus called you Jess, not Y/N.

But at the same time, a little part of you wouldn't stop screaming that you really really really wished he had said your name instead. A little part of you-

Your thoughts were interrupted by the soft glow of your phone lighting up along with a light vibration. A smile appeared on your face as you saw who the message was from.

Babygirl Z <3: GIRL

Babygirl Z <3: BABES ARE YOU UP??!

-yeah you okay? what's wrong?

Babygirl Z <3: shit I'm sorry but i have to tell you this

-what's wrong????? are you okay?

Babygirl Z <3: I'm fine but

-?????

Babygirl Z <3: fuck don't hate me ily okay this is for the best just remember that

-Z get to the point...

Babygirl Z <3: okay so...storm and i just did some digging and

-and?

Babygirl Z <3: and we think Angus got a girl back @ home

taglist:

@nikkixostan @melaninmarvel @celiajrs @siriuslycollins @patientplum @babygurlbarnes

#fezco #fezco fic #fezco euphoria #fez euphoria #fezco fluff #euphoria #hbo euphoria #angus cloud #angus cloud fic

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boywivlove · 4 years

Text

Don’t be afraid of the dark

Genre | Supernatural AU, Witch/Warlock AU, slight angst, slight fluff

Pairing | platonic Min Yoongi | Kim Namjoon

Summary | The Empyrean Academy for gifted young men finally opens its doors after the tragic accident of 85. A new coven is formed as six new warlocks now call the academy home. But as one gifted individual finds out, someone already resides in this great house. But after 35 years, is this his home, or his prison?

Warnings | Mentions of death, brief descriptions of violence, brief descriptions of gore and wounds, descriptions of occult stuff? Implied member x member

Authors Note | Im SSSSOO glad to finally be writing something! Ive been in such a rut with creativity but Im so glad to get this out! This is my first member x member fic Ive written please be gentle! This reads a lot from Namjoons side of things but does switch to Yoongi more throughout!!

The Empyrean Academy, once the home of a great and powerful coven, now stood frozen and abandoned. The magical enchantments on the place made it as though no time had passed since it closed its doors. The rooms, still immaculate and not a speck of dust anywhere. The light still shone through the transparent white curtains and the dark wood flooring still looked freshly polished. Indeed it was as though no one ever left. But sadly, this was not the case. The once great house closed its doors back in 1985, 35 years to the day. The enchantments in place were powerful to say the least, no pesky squatters could enter, nor robbers nor locksmith could find their way inside. But while no one can enter, nor can anyone leave. And for one soul, this is a gift as well as a curse. Only with the emergence of a new coven would the academy open its doors again. But is our friend ready and willing to share the only home he’s known since afterlife…

12,146, twelve thousand. one hundred. and sixty two days…to the day… how time flies when you have no need to keep note of it anymore. A hand gently brushes the ivory keys of the grand piano situated in the portrait room. He contemplates the melodies his hands remember, anything to block out the unbearable silence.

Min Yoongi sat on the bench, his eyes dully reading over the sheet music, each one a beautiful melody, but overplayed. He only had himself to blame, spending so much time at that damned piano has left him growing bored of one of the few things he took joy in during his life. But 35 years has started to chip away at him, making him unable to think of a melody to key. It was always the same, he would wander through the house, he would read the books, he would light the candles, play the piano, and every single day since he died, he would repeat the now tedious activities. He never felt hungry, he never grew tired. But everyday would end up the same.

No one knows what happens to you when you die, no one in this big blue world knows what awaits you on the other side, and had Yoongi known what awaited him, he never would have gotten involved that day. He never would have tried to intervene.

That’s what he likes to tell himself, he tells himself that he should have let them blow themselves up, let them be stuck here for decades with no one but themselves. But he knows he could have never stood by while someone else was in harm’s way, that is not the way of the coven, in this house, we protect our own. He knew in whatever scenario, he would be there trying to stop things escalating to a shit show like before. His mother had always said he was too nice. Even if his face didn’t always register his kindness.

He missed her. His mother, god only knows how she reacted to the news of his death. He missed talking to her over the phone about classes and what he had been learning, he missed her letters,the swirl of her handwriting telling him how much she misses her boy, the way the pages would smell like her perfume, reminding him of her. The letters he still had were so old now, the scent had dissipated and he now only remembered it in his memory, ivory soap and lily of the valley. It’s a scent that reminds him of home. A home he can never go back to. This place was his home now. His tomb. The dorm room he once shared with friends now is a place for him to wallow in his memories as he watches the days turn to night, a cycle that repeats itself in his endless eternity.

The day Kim Namjoon found out about his gifts, he had accidentally set the curtains of his family home on fire. He had been terrified of what had happened, unable to explain it. It wasn’t until his mother sat him down and revealed her family secret, the gift of the craft that had skipped her generation, he finally understood. It was odd to say the least, he still didn’t fully believe that he was a descendant of a powerful witch, and he had manifested one of many gifts their line was known for having. It wasn’t until his mother explained that she had made a call to an old friend, and he would be going to a private academy to learn how to control his powers that it all became real. He didn’t know how to feel, on one hand, he would be leaving his whole life behind, but he would be learning how to harness his powers to control them, and hopefully not set fire to anything anymore. He just hoped the people there were willing to help him. And he prayed there was at least a lunch lady, curtains weren’t the only thing he’s accidentally set on fire…

The trip down to Peninsula Bay was long, 5 hours in a crowded bus with no stops, his legs were numb and his back arched slightly. It wasn’t all bad however, the man escorting him had introduced him to two students who would be joining him in his schooling. One was a young man, younger than himself, named Jeon Jungkook, he was welcoming, he had a nice smile that set Namjoon at ease ever so slightly, The boy was dressed in all black and had combat boots that could crush your windpipe, a complete 180 from his personality. The other young man, his name was Jung Hoseok, his smile was even bigger than Jungkooks, eyes crinkled with how wide he smiled. He was a ball of energy, his blonde hair like the sun and his clothes were all bright summery tones and double denim, not what you would expect a warlock to dress in, but then again, Namjoons shirt had flowers on… were warlocks supposed to dress a certain way? if so, Jungkook didn’t have to worry at least.

They made their way off the bus to be greeted by their new governess, Mrs Song, wife to the supreme warlock of this new coven, A welcoming woman but she had an aura of power that made it clear she was to be listened to. She led the three men into another car that took them up a steep hill, the sea seemed to go on forever and stretch further the more they travelled. The car arrived at the gates of a beautiful white stone mansion, The Empyrean Academy, Empyrean meaning the highest part of heaven as Namjoon recalled, no one would bother them up here, convenient given what was to be going on inside.

It had taken a while for the other student to arrive, to Namjoons surprise there were only six of them in total. The other three names he learnt were Kim Seokjin, he was the oldest of the lot,Park Jimin and Kim Taehyung knew each other before coming to the academy, both coming from families that actively practised their craft, Namjoon could see the bond the two shared. They were led inside my Mrs Song, after reciting an enchantment that made the wind pick up, and the gates creak open on their own. The dead leaves of the autumn swept themselves from the driveway and the doors to the house unlocked themselves. The boys were given a quick tour of the house, it was so beautiful. Namjoon could see himself sitting by the windows in the sunlight, his potential new study spot.

It didn’t take long for the boys to each pick a room, Mrs Song had mentioned the rooms used to house up to 3 boys each back in the day, but since the numbers had dropped to 6 they could decide to share or have their own space, Namjoon found it not surprising at all that Jimin and Taehyungs rooms were next door to each other. Jungkooks room was down the hall from Jins, Hoseok had chosen the room right across from Jimins, which meant that Namjoon was left to decide between two more rooms on this wing, he made the decision for the room closest to the stairs,heading to open it. The door opened ever so slightly before it was slammed closed again. Oddly, he found himself unable to open the door, he felt as though someone was holding the handle on the other end, it wouldn’t even budge. Mrs Song had reappeared in this time and watched the small struggle unfold.

“Id pick another room Namjoon. That room has too many bad memories you see.” There was something in her eyes, something that looked almost sad. She waved her hand and the other room’s door opened for him, and then she was down the stairs and he could see her heading into a large room, her office perhaps.

Namjoon let go of the handle, he had a feeling, an odd feeling. He Felt like there was something inside that room. Something that didn’t want anyone to enter.

Indeed there was something on the other side of the door, and he didn’t at all feel like sharing his room. Not with all his things being still here, the last thing he wants is some nosy new student rifling through his belongings. Yoongi may have lost his powers of the craft when he died, but being a spirit bound to the house you died in gave you some abilities, abilities he would put to use. He’s been here 37 years, now he finally had some company, but when you’ve been alone for so long, new arrivals can be jarring. He would hide out in his room for now, sure they couldn’t see him unless he wanted them too, but he would scope them out when he was ready.

The boys had settled nicely into the academy in the weeks that passed. Namjoon had found himself becoming fast friends with the whole group, he grew close with them all, Jin he was particularly fond of, Namjoon swears to himself it’s not just because Jin can cook, but it is a heavy factor for him.

The boys each had their own special talents, Jin was gifted in a herbology, gifted with botanical magic, he would often be seen in the greenhouse or the kitchen cooking up all sorts of smelly things.. Jungkook, the youngest of the group, was developing his gifts of divination and clairvoyance, he could read objects and people enough to know something about w said person. He was also interested in the world of spirit contacting, liking to read tarot cards and scoping out the veil. Hoseok and Jimin seemed to share the most gifts with each other, their favourite pastime was seeing who could levitate the most stuff, a lot of broken or smashed things to the bemusement of Mrs Song and Taehyung, who would spend this time sharpening his transmutation powers, Taehyung would always catch the others by surprise by flitting from one room to another, many times he’s heard Jin cry out in surprise, and Jimin and Jungkook laughing hysterically.

Namjoon had also started developing his powers, his pyrokinesis had come a long way in just a few weeks, no more setting curtains afire. He had learnt enough control over his fire powers to understand his power surges were brought on by stress and anger. Namjoon could understand why, at the time of the curtain accident he was under a lot of academic stress with college entry exams. Just as well he set them on fire, in truth, he’s never felt more at home. The others were his home away from home.

But with all this comfort Namjoon felt, his mind couldn’t help but go back to the locked room. Jungkook had asked him one night if he felt anything weird about that room. He looked like he knew something but if he did, he was keeping it quiet for now. Namjoon had explored quotes around the house during his stay, he had found a door in the wall in the living room,and stumbled upon the portrait room in the east wing. The walls were decorated with portraits of all the former supreme warlocks, but there was one he found out of place. It was smaller than the others, and instead of being hung on the walls, it was framed and sat upon the grand piano.

The portrait was of a young man no younger than him, his hair was neat, while his uniform was black and pristine looking, it looked dated. Namjoon looked at the plaque below and read the name Min Yoongi - 1958 - 1985. Twenty seven when he died. This was an old photo, but then Namjoon had thought. 1985. This was the year the academy shut its doors right? Was this man connected with it somehow? Namjoon had so many questions about the academy, it was in his nature to be curious.

Yoongi had eventually come out of his room, shifting from one room to the next, he had observed each of the new students, and so far he didn’t see anything that would cause him to be weary. He would often watch the group during their lessons, following along with what Mrs Song was teaching them, he was surprised to see the curriculum had changed. No more dark magic history lessons it would seem.

`Good. Maybe things will turn out differently for this coven.` He couldn’t help but think.

He wouldn’t admit it, but the boys were growing on him. He often had a chuckle to himself overhearing their conversations or observing their antics. But there were two of the men he wasn’t sure of. The first was the youngest one, he learned his name was Jungkook, he found himself tiptoeing around this kid.

Yes this `kid` was 22, but had yoongi lived, he would be 62, everyone of these guys were `kids` or `Young men` in his eyes.

Jungkook always seemed to get off feelings whenever Yoongi had appeared around him, obviously he couldn’t see him. But it seemed this warlock had an affinity for sensing when spirits were near, even if he didn’t fully understand the depth his powers yet, Yoongi would catch The kid looking up to where Yoongi situated himself, with a gaze so intense that Yoongi often wondered if he could in fact see him, but he knew he couldn’t if he didn’t want the kid to.

The second was the blonde that tried to get into his room the first day, Namjoon. He had observed this one the most. He was a curious one. He had spent a lot of time in the library, studying anything and everything. Yoongi had to stop himself playing tricks on the man by making books slide off the shelf, most of these books are older than the house and he wouldn’t risk damaging such an old relic.

He found himself hovering around Namjoon more than the others. It was interesting to see the man looking into the house, most students just focused on their powers. But Namjoon went searching all over the house for all its hidden mysteries, He could relate, he remembered the hidden room in the back of the greenhouse he stumbled upon with his roommates back in the day, there was nothing in it. But the thought of more hidden spaces in the house made Yoongi shiver. The thought of unlocking hidden places excited him.

He had followed Namjoon into the portrait room, he would spend so many hours in here playing the piano, his own portrait staring at him. He watched Namjoon observe his portrait, a curious look on his face, his thumb brushing the name plaque gingerly.

Yoongi didn’t know what compelled him, he felt himself materialising before he could reason with himself not to be an idiot.

`Not my best look, but they got my face in a good light at least`

He never saw someone jump up so quickly.

`JESUS, w-what`

`what, you never seen a ghost before…` Yoongi felt like an idiot, he hadn’t spoken to anyone in 35 years, his tone wasn’t exactly welcoming.

`a-a ghost, wait, your, your, your a`

`Dead guy? yeah…

There was a long silence, Yoongi could practically hear Namjoons heart beating out of his chest. What the hell should he say now…

`so, you were a student here back in 1985?`

`Yeah, me and twenty other students, it was so different back then, I’ve told you this already.`

`I know, I’m just thinking, your pretty old now, you must think its all new to you, the laptops, phones… we don’t ride broomsticks anymore haha`

Yoongi gave a deadpanned look to the man laying on the bed besides him, the hint of a smirk evident on his lips. In the past week he and Namjoon have spoken a number of times with each other. It was nice to talk to someone again. He honestly thought Namjoon would run a mile after seeing him, but as surprising as it was, he remained with him. Namjoon had calmed himself, figuring that, if witches and warlocks were real, why not ghosts. That’s what Yoongi liked about talking with Namjoon, he liked that he was openly curious about things. Namjoon would listen to Yoongi talk for hours about his life way back when, and Yoongi craved all the attention he was getting from the man after decades of solitude.

He hadn’t revealed himself to the other students yet, he wouldn’t admit it to himself, but he just wanted to sit with Namjoon, he did other things to give the others a hint he was there, he would open doors for the others when they had their hands full of books, or he would leave relevant books on the tables in the library whenever they needed to research something important. Of course none had caught on yet, thinking it was one of the other students, but Namjoon had mentioned that Jungkook often stared at him with an off look in his eye, not bad nor good, it was like he knew, but didn’t elude to anything. Given his abilities, Yoongi wouldn’t be surprised.

Namjoon didn’t jump at telling anyone yet either, he knew that Yoongi had been alone for years, and while he had told Namjoon his story, he had kept some things hidden, his death was something Namjoon was eager to learn about. Morbid yes, he had learnt from Mrs Song that a student had died and two others had been injured years back and the details were kept secret, but there whispers that dark magic was surrounding the young man’s mysterious death. Namjoon had pieced together that Yoongi was the Man in question, and when he questioned Yoongi about what happened, Yoongi had clammed up, nervous almost.

`It’s not something you need to know about, drop it please?`

Namjoon had not brought it up again, it clearly upset Yoongi and he didn’t want that. He wanted Yoongi to know he can trust him. He let Namjoon into his room, eventually. The others had gone out for a trip into the town down the cliff, a chance to get out for a while. Namjoon decided to stay behind, wanting to catch up on his reading, that’s what he said. In truth, he just didn’t want to leave Yoongi inside the house alone, he’d been alone enough. Namjoon had wandered through the house searching for the ghost, and when he didn’t find him in his usual haunts, he had thought of the one place he hadn’t checked.

He was hesitant to knock on the door, he knew Yoongi now only shut himself in his room when he was particularly down and didn’t want to be bothered. He rapped softly on the door, his voice finally coming to him.

`Yoongi, are you alright?`

Nothing. No answer.

`I just want to know your alright… If you don’t want to talk that’s fine…`

He waited a couple of seconds, before deciding to leave him alone, when the handle clicked, and the door slowly creaked open. Namjoon hesitated before stepping over the threshold. He didn’t know what he expected, but the room was almost like his own, the curtains were still immaculately white, the bookcase and desk were riddled with all kinds of books, the beds were perfectly made and the clothes in the closet were neatly folded. Namjoon also noted the other furniture in the room, two empty beds, two empty closets.

He approached Yoongi, who was sitting on the window ledge looking out of the window that overlooked the sea, in his hands was a photo frame. Namjoon sat by his feet, Yoongi looked deep in his own thoughts that Namjoon thought he didn’t notice him, but he let him into the room.

He didn’t speak, he waited for Yoongi to open up to him, he let him in for a reason, he just knew it.

` Do you ever think about what would have happened if you decided something different.`

`sometimes`

`I find myself thinking more and more about what would have happened in my life if things worked out differently… I would be 63 today if i was alive. I’d probably have been teaching you and the others in this coven.

His eyes didn’t leave the sea, his head pressed against the glass as Namjoon looked out to see the waves crashing on the rocks.

`Yoongi, you’ve never told me. You know, how you died. I know you don’t like talking about it, but it’s pretty obvious it was what you were thinking about…`

Yoongi’s eyes downcast to the photo in his hands, and then to Namjoon. He held out the photo frame for Namjoon to take, He saw the photograph, it was Yoongi, and two other young men at a bar, they looked happy, these must have been his roommates.

`they were my best friends, we all came to the academy together.`

`Are they, were they involved?`

`yes, and no… it was, something else.

`something, else?`

Yoongi sighed, he sat straighter now, his legs crossed and he rubbed his face with his face.

`It was something dark. My roommates, they had been looking at some dark stuff, black magic and conjuring spells. Our coven had been under attack back then, witch hunters.`

`witch hunters?`

`yeah, they were nothing but persistent, no one got hurt but it was getting worse and worse by the day. They wanted to conjure a protection spell that would ward the house against the hunters. When I was alive, my gifts were a lot like your friend, Jungkooks, I had an ability to see into the veil, to see spirits and commune with them. My friends found if they could channel me and my power, they would be able to conjure a protective spirit. But I saw the books they were reading, there was no certainty that the spirit that would come through would have been a good one.`

Yoongi had gotten up by now and got a book from the shelf, he opened the book and handed it to Namjoon.

`This, this is dark stuff, where did they even get this book.`

`The coven used to teach dark magic and its history back in my day, a way to make us aware of the danger, fat lot of god it did right? I told my friends they were getting into some dark stuff but I didn’t want to leave them, if something went wrong they would need someone versed in magic of the veil to help.`

Yoongi sat down near Namjoon, their knees touching as Namjoon listened to every word with sympathy.

`what happened.`

`The spirit they conjured, it was anything but good. It attacked one of my friends, He didn’t even have time to defend himself. We tried to send it back but it kept getting more aggressive. I used my powers to look through the veil and see what it was… it was the most terrifying thing I’ve ever seen. I’ve never felt a spirit that dark before, a black heart surrounded with occult magic… but I knew what I had to do, being versed in the veil, I knew I could send it back, but when I tried to force it through the veil, it attacked me, it let the others go, but, I guess I wasn’t lucky….`

Namjoon could see Yoongi shaking slightly, his smile was undermined by his eyes watering. Namjoon couldn’t imagine what Yoongi had seen that night, but it clearly left him fearful, even decades later. He hesitantly wrapped his arms around the shaking spirit. Yoongi takes a breath and continues.

`By the time it was forced back through the veil, that thing did enough damage to me to make me bleed out, the others tried to stop the bleeding and get help, but by the time the supreme came running in, I was already standing over my body. I knew I had died. My friends said nothing, they knew how the coven viewed dark magic and conjuring, they would have been blamed for my death, and exiled from the coven completely. They told our supreme that I conjured it.`

That was a surprise he hadn’t seen coming. Yoongi’s best friends had blamed their dead friend?! Namjoon would never meet them, and he was almost glad he never would. His blood boiled at the thought of friends betraying someone whose death they caused.

Eventually the blood was cleaned up and the room was closed up, they said my things were probably riddled with black magic, and best to shut the room up and let it be forgotten. I saved my best friends, I died for them, and they blamed their stupidity on me, that hurts you know. I just tried to keep them safe.`

Yoongi had broken down at this point, he didn’t know he could cry this much being dead, his retelling the events had caused the phantom wounds to itch, by the time the whole ghastly event was finished, his chest was ripped up, the scratches inflicted upon his arms and legs had nicked an artery, He remembered every tear of his flesh and the sticky warm liquid soaking his shirt. And when it was all over, when the supreme listened to his so called friends retelling of events, he felt his ghostly heart break.

Namjoon didn’t say anything right away, but held Yoongi, what could he say? He had no idea Yoongi’s death would have been shrouded with deceit and betrayal. Yoongi was a gentle soul, he died protecting his friends, and they spat in his face. Namjoon held Yoongi and let him cry as much as he needed to. He ran his hand through Yoongi’s hair, a small comfort to the spirit. Night had fallen without other noticing, and Namjoon still held Yoongi, the only light in the room was the candles Namjoon had lit. In spite of his little breakdown, Yoongi now felt calm, he almost felt at peace. It was Namjoon, he was comforting. The most comfort he’s felt In years.

#btsbookclub #hyunglinenetwork #ARMYsource #bangtanarmynet #bts #bts fanfiction #bts fic #bts au #bts witch au #bts ghost au #min yoongi #min yoongi fanfic #kim namjoon #kim namjoon fanfic #namjoon x yoongi #yoongi x namjoon #fanfic #fanfiction

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marvelsswansong · 5 years

Note

Can you do a bodyguard au with Steve? And if you'd like, make it Steve x reader please? :) if its okay with you!

a/n: I went for a slight mix of bodyguard au with mob au to make this story work, I will admit I personally really hate how this turned out but i hope you like it or don’t hate it at the very least xx

————————-

“(Y/n) will not be taking any more questions, thank you very much.” announced Steve, glaring at the reporters and parting a way in the clustered crowd of press peoples.

“You alright?”

You were the only person Steve was this soft around.

You smiled up at Steve and nodded. Steve carefully placed his hand on your back, resting it just above your waist, ensuring your safety as the rest of your security team cleared a path for you to walk back to your car. You wouldn’t have minded at all if Steve were to place his hands lower but wrap you in his arms, but you knew he wouldn’t do that.

Steve had a strict sense of morals he abided to and took his job as your bodyguard very seriously, never engaging in anything other than chivalrous forms of gestures and quick touches both in private and public. And though he maintained a cold and unmoved facade to the public, he was always kind and soft to you. You thought it meant something- that, perhaps, he was interested in you too.

But he never took it further than that. If you sat next to him, he would call another bodyguard over to sit to the other side of you to ensure maximum security. If you placed your hand on his he’d stiffen and say he needed both his hands free at all times to protect you. If you made a flirty comment he’d just smile and nod, pretending like what you said was just mundane and friendly.

All these thoughts plagued your mind as you sat in the car, the bright flashes from the paparazzi no longer annoying you as the limousine pulled away from the theater.

“Are you alright?” asked Steve, his low voice sending shivers down your spine.

You shifted in your seat and nodded.

“Yeah… yeah… That’s the second time you’re asking me that today, you know. Do I look that tired to you?” you joked, trying to lighten the mood.

It started to rain outside as Steve sinked back to his seat and sighed, his eyes shifting to the floor for a quick second before looking back up at you.

“You’ve been acting strange for the past few days. What’s on your mind?”

You opened your mouth to spout out another lie, only for Steve to cut you off with a stern look.

“And don’t try and lie to me, you know I’m better than that.”

Should you say it?

Whatever. You were just going to say it. Rip it off like a band-aid.

“Do you like your job?”

Steve was taken back at your unexpected question for a moment, before he regained his composure and responded.

“Of course I do. Your family is lovely, even though they are in the mob business. The job pays well. It allows me to practice the expertise I gained from being in the army and training with the FBI.”

You huffed at his vague answer.

“And what about me?”

He cocked his head to the side in confusion.

“What about you?”

You sighed and crossed your arms.

“Who am I to you? Just a client? Just the daughter of a mob boss? Just an actress?”

Steve stiffened at your question. He could feel how annoyed and angry you were, and he didn’t want to piss you off even more. But could he say how he truly felt without risking it all?

“You’re…” started Steve carefully, gauging your reaction.

“You’re wonderful.”

You blinked.

“What?”

“You’re wonderful, (Y/n). You’re kind. You’re talented. You’re not caught up in all the negative bullshit of the world. You actually wanted to be something bigger than some daughter of a rich mob boss. You’re hardworking. You care about other people. You’re just… so wonderful.”

The way he uttered his last word was just so soft, and combined with his feather touch on your hand, you couldn’t help but feel all your anger dissipate into thin air.

“And do you like me?”

Steve smiled sadly.

“You already know the answer to that, (Y/n).”

You grabbed his hand without hesitation, linking your fingers with his.

“Then why don’t you make a move? You know I’ve liked you too, for at least two years now.”

Steve sighed but didn’t pull away from your touch. He was letting himself indulge in this fantasy for a little longer.

“You know why I can’t. It’s unprofessional.”

You quickly removed your hand from his.

“Are you serious? God, Steve, you know, there just comes a point where it’s less about professionalism and more about you being afraid.”

Before Steve could make up an excuse, the limo came to a stop and you got out, ignoring Steve’s commands that you wait for him to get out first. In fact, you quickly walked down the sidewalk, passing your house and beelining straight for the bar.

“(Y/n), wait-”

You stopped walking briefly to yell at Steve.

“No, Steve, I won’t wait. I want a goddamn drink, and if I want one, I’m going to go get-”

You felt unbearable pain in your stomach before you could finish your sentence, the smell of gunpowder and the deafening sound of a gunshot filling the air. Before the second shot could be fired you were thrown onto the ground by a massive figure, the familiar smell of Steve’s cologne letting you know who it was.

He cradled your body protectively by dragging you behind a nearby car, dialing a number with his right hand while shooting at an unknown figure with his left.

“Code red on sunset boulevard. Three shots fired, she was shot in the stomach. Requesting backup and medical assistance immediately.” spoke Steve into the phone, looking at you desperately.

“Steve… it- it hurts.”

Steve dropped his gun when the assailant fell to the floor and quickly turned around, ripping off his jacket and using it to suppress your wound. His desperate eyes screamed in fear as he gently brushed the hair out of your eyes, his voice cracking.

“I-I know sweetheart, but you gotta hold on, okay? Don’t close your eyes, help is on the way.”

The last thing you heard before your vision went dark was the sound of an ambulance siren in the background.

When you woke up, you were in a neat hospital bed covered in a thin white sheet with the repetitive beep of the heart monitor filling the room. Your body was so sore but you forced yourself to look to your left, only to see Steve at the corner of your bed, his head resting on the bed while his body was slouched over on a chair.

You tried to called out his name but coughed instead, which woke Steve up immediately. He was at your side in an instant, his hand on your face.

“You’re awake! Uh, how are you feeling?

You let out a small grunt.

“Like I’ve been shot.”

Steve smiled.

“Even in the worst moments, you joke.”

His laughter faded away and a serious expression settled on his face.

“I’ve been thinking… God, I was just so damn scared when you passed out. I thought I was going to lose you forever. Forever before I could-”

“Could what?”

Steve grabbed your face and kissed you quickly, his lips smashing onto yours without hesitation. Thought it was unexpected it was needy, it was sweet, and you found yourself pulling him closer to you.

“I love you.”

“B-but you said because of your job-”

Steve shook his head sideways.

“Screw the job. I realized a large reason why I loved the job was because of you. And if your dad has a problem with it, I’m-”

He took in a deep breath.

“I’m willing to quit my job.”

You quickly sat up in bed.

“But your job is your entire life, I don’t understand-”

“No, doll. You are my life. And I’d rather lose my job than lose you. Okay?”

“Okay…”

“So what do you say? Can I take you out for dinner sometime?”

You looked up at him with a mischievous smile.

“I don’t know, kiss me once more and I’ll be able to give you an answer.”

—————————————-

a/n: holy shit this was garbage ahh im sorry im so tired and lowkey burnt out from writing every day

–> read my other blurbs here

–> prompt list // REQUESTS ARE OPEN

regular taglist: @wantyoubackpeter @platonic-plots @superwholockwannabe @xxmizzlexx @xdsockmonkey @princess-unicorn124 @not-jay-c @therealmrshale @caswinchester2000 @heartbeats-wildly @mostlylyricedits @musiclover1263

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #steve rogers headcanon #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers oneshot #steve rogers fluff #captain america x reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x you #marvel x reader #avengers x reader #bodyguard au #marvel oneshot #marvel fanfiction #marvel reader insert #marvel blurbs

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fipindustries · 4 years

Text

oh boy its time for me to overshare once again!

ok i feel ready to talk about this: my dad’s an asshole. (cw: transphobia)

we always had a distant and strained relationship, we just dont have anything in common and never made any effort to reach out to the other across that gulf. but it has dawned on me truly how truly unlikeable he is fundamentally as a person.

i finally came out to him fully the other day, presenting myself fully as a girl called amanda. he was nice, and polite and said calmly that he was flat out not going to treat me as a girl and that i would always be his son to him. not even a strained attempt out of him to play along, he was reaised catholic and very conservative so i could understand him having trouble accomodating me, i could understand him being confused or this being hard to him, but he didnt eve try.

his reasoning was twofold and frankly esoteric, his first point was that me trying to find happiness on an identity was foolish, me thinking that im trans was me “living in the world of the mind, thinking that you are your mind and thinking that what your mind tells you is the truth”.

the other reason why he wouldnt recognize my prefered identity was because in his mind im his son and he cant just change that so he would feel like a hipocrite going against what he believes. and that if he is not going to ask me to change and stop pretending to be a woman then i shouldnt ask him to change either.

so, you know, lovely.

i have not spoken to him since, he has made a few attempts to message me further, claiming that he had still something left he wanted to say and that he felt we had “a good conversation” his birthday was two days ago and i dont give a shit.

because this is the thing. i am a very tolerant person, too much in fact, im willing to put up with a lot of shit from other people for the sake of congeniality, i dont like confrontation and i dont like upsetting or hurting other people. i can understand if he is old fashioned or conservative or too set in his ways, i could conceivably be willing to give him a second and a third and a fourth chance, to walk him through this and hopefully, eventually to change his mind. he has sort of implied that he could perhaps get used to this but that it would be a long process for him. but this is the thing.

i dont care. im tired. i’ve been dealing with this guy’s bullshit for far too long.

i’ve been dealing with twenty years of him insisting that i should hang out with friends more, that i should be in a relationship with a girl, that i should study a different career, that i should leave the big city and go back to my hometown because i would never make it there. twenty years of this motherfucker trying to mold me into a good old, sport playing, mate drinking, asado eating, party going boy. years and years of me trying to share something im interested in and him having his eyes glaze off into the distance and interrupt me suddenly changing the topic to something he wanted to talk about. years and years of him using every visit to monologue and give me “life lessons” and trying to share “profound wisdom”.

i dont remember a time we’ve ever shared a joke, or even saw him laugh, a time where he could just relax, be casual, share a sarcastic remark, make a witty comment. he is the most boring person i have ever met. and so it dawns on me.

when two people like each other, when they want to share each others company, they try and make it pleasant to hang out, they’ll try and strike a nice conversation, they’ll be congenial they’ll be nice and entertaining and turn the charisma on, for their own definiton of charisma. they’ll try to vibe with the other person, they’ll do something to make the other person enjoy their time spent together. he never did that, because he believes the love between parents and children is unconditional. and whats worse he can point out at concrete material things he has done to show his love, like the fact that for all he complained he did pay my education in college, and my stay in the big city, and whenever i needed economic help he was there to help me. but.... im really sorry but is not good enough, you cant buy a son, you can provide every material need and then be unbearable to be around and hope that i’ll stick around out of a sense of debt.

what dissapoints me so much is that my entire life i fantasized about cold distant or strict seeming fathers who, when it counted, would show their true support, that is the entire absolute point of maximilian sicamore, father of a trans boy, who might look strict and intimidating but turns out to be a pretty cool guy once you get to meet him

and it might be pathetic but the fact that my dad is not like this cartoon character i came up with is extremely dissapointing to me.

#transphobia #is a good thing i havent lived with him since the divorce when i was ten #i dont depend on him on any level for any kind of economic support so i can just cut him off my life without loosing much at all #maybe some day far in the future ill talk to him again but i doubt it

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pa-pa-plasma · 5 years

Text

my personal chronic migraine symptoms, in no particular order or ranking

warning for some of these btw. just wanted to write them down. Does anyone else experience any of these too cuz all i get when i look into migraines is "migraines hurt and thats it :) ". I may have forgotten some, so assume this is only a taste of what life is like for me!

pain: yes, this is a symptom. "painless" migraines are a thing and they feel very weird. imagine breaking your arm and feeling it, but not feeling any pain. The pain, when i feel it which is a vast majority of the time, usually beats. i assume the pain spikes every time my heart beats. Sometimes its in my eyes, sometimes generally in my brain. Causes me to physically wince because its too much for me to handle.

Extreme sensitivity: everything hurts me. Smells, lights, sounds, physical touch, etc. causes me physical pain. Most common symptom. I usually just sit in bed in the dark in loose boxers n nothing else cuz clothes make me hurt

Insatiable hunger: exactly what it sounds like. I feel a physical hunger that lasts as long as the migraine. I can and will eat until I am sick, and even then, when im hovering around the bathroom because my stomach is so full i just might puke, i still feel as though I havent eaten in days.

Nausea: my stomach is in my throat at all times. Not usually paired with hunger

Extreme nightmares: if i manage to fall asleep with a migraine, or pass out from the pain, i will pay with dreams of being killed via getting my head smashed in repeatedly. The scariest nightmares I have ever experienced, since the pain I felt in the dream was 100% real, and was still there in full even after I woke up.

Passing out/fainting: this is always paired with nightmares. Usually the pain knocks me out, and im woken by the pain-induced nightmares. cry for a while. Repeat.

Dizziness/inability to keep balance: this one sucks cuz lying down actually makes the pain worse, so i have to prop myself with pillows against a wall if i wanna get anywhere near comfortable. If i walk anywhere i have to lean on a wall or railing or risk falling and hurting myself

Shaking: im shaking as i write this. I feel it deep in my body. I dont know why.

Extreme temperature: im boiling hot and absolutely freezing at the same time. The trick to this is always go for heat. Dont use ice packs. Cold always makes things worse. Drink lots of water slowly and keep head warm

Runny nose and mouth: super common symptom. Actually how i can tell if i have a serious migraine most of the time (aka if its just passing through or if shits gonna go down). My mouth usually starts over-salivating, and the saliva is thick and sticks to itself. I will have to keep spitting into the sink. Runny nose is less common

Yawning: i realized recently that i yawn more when i have a migraine, even when its days before the worst symptoms show (yes, days. ive had migraines that last for over a week straight). It's not because Im tired. Idk why

Neck and joint pain: this really makes it 10 time more unbearable. my jaw will hurt so much i cant fully close my mouth. Pair this with the spit thing and its a nightmare. Sometimes it feels like the pain is seeping down into my upper spine

I gotta go: yeah. i pee like a racehorse when i have a migraine

Exhaustion: pain, crying, and nearly vomiting can take a lot out of you. If anything good comes out of this, its that i have the best sleeps post-migraine. Nothing beats the feeling of not being in pain after being in extreme pain for several hours! wheres that captain america post about him right after he gets those drugs?? Yeah thats me

Restlessness: i hurt so bad but i cant stop moving. I usually pace in a dark room. If i stop i feel sick. If its a smaller migraine and im trying to sleep through it, (usually propped up because of the whole "lying down making the pain worse" thing) i cant fall asleep because i cant stop moving. Different from adhd restlessness i also experience. Its like if i stop moving the pain intensifies.

#chronic pain #migraine #chronic migraine #symptoms #pain is so fun!!!!!1!!!#at least writing this distracted me til the drugs kicked in

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terryblycute · 4 years

Text

2020

overall this year was bad. bad, just like any other, how its always been, so nothing special. im writing this because my memory is getting worse and worse, and im sick of not remembering

corona lowkey annoying cuz i couldnt visit my friends on new years eve, but other than that everythings the same. on a positive note i didnt have to work as much either, and on a negative note i didnt get as much money. but thats alright.

((rude, unempathetic rant incoming. i know what im about to say is stupid but its my feelings and i want to talk about it regardless. if anyones reading, skip this)) what HAS been bothering me the most about corona is all the „2020 bad“ memes and people legitimately complaining about it. cuz like... nothing has changed. every year is horrible. it always has been. every year innocent people die, and nobody can do anything about it. of course i feel horrible for the people who lost their income/housing or family members because of it, and they have all the rights to complain... but lets be honest. none of the people i talk to were affected in any way by it. and the majority of people i hear talking about it havent lost their family/friends or homes to it either. its just a mild inconvenience to them, not being able to party without being arrested or seeing their friends or some shit. boo hoo, im alone all the time and never see any of my friends either and at this point im completely love & touch starvated regardless of corona. get over it

so... corona things out of the way, ive started thinking about my mental illnesses & trauma... A LOT. ive never thought about it all that much, because critical thinking is not something im able to do, usually. ive been reading lots of comix of people talking about/depicting mental illness, so i guess that kind of inspired and changed something in me, if i like it or not.

well, it turns out there is a shitton to unpack. i mean, ive always known there is so much wrong with me... but i was never really aware, if that makes sense. im still in the dark about most things, but its all coming together, little by little. i dont want to put my finger on anything, because im dumb, but at this point im 100% sure autism/aspergers isnt the only thing i got. far from it, in fact.

ive also learned that a lot of things in my life have left me with genuine, significant trauma, which ive never really realized before. i just thought the way i react to some things is cuz im, yknow... a whiny bitch. to name a few things:

me getting defensive/snappy when people of „authority“ (family, caretakers, doctors) ask me if im tired, how late i went to bed etc bc it is indirectly tied to why i was forced into psychiatry & the abuse i had to suffer there

fight or flight response activating when people talk about being in support of outdoor cats (i dont even want to fucking elaborate. tl;dr: my cat was almost killed by outdoor cat people and would be dead now if i hadnt gotten my shit together and worked hard on getting my own apartment, where he is safe. ive recieved no support & only been demonized during this time). this is a genuine fucking trigger

my rocky relationship with my mother and my thoughts about her, who is a genuinely good person, but managed to fuck me over, rip my entire ass apart and ruin my life regardless. also her lowkey restrictive/controlling upbringing stunting me for life

my huge, life-impairing abandonment issues. i dont even know where they come from, all i ever experienced were regular breakups & rejections with no hard feelings that just hit me especially hard for no reason i guess

how i cannot bear to be alone in a discord voice channel waiting for people to join & my stunted ability to talk to people when im alone with them (i got actively excluded by my best friends for being suicidal & a downer, they created a discord voice channel i couldnt see & didnt have access to for them to be without me, all while i was waiting all day long alone in our regular channel for someone to join me, in the same server)

relatedly, my inability to talk about my problems & mental illnesses with them. is also related to the cat incident

also my inability to show affection ever since my best friend stopped telling me „i love ya“

nothing else i can think of rn

i also realized that something is fundamentally, objectively wrong with me. i cant really talk about it... but the actions of one of my friends made it clear to me. it was proof that, somehow, im imbued with the horrifying essence of some eldritch lovecraftian horror being, repulsing everyone without them even realizing, unable of being loved. and its just... this knowledge, its too heavy to bear, for a single human being. i dont know what to do. i will have to live with this for the rest of my life - and i cant do anything about it.

ive also reconnected with an old friend over animal crossing, who introduced me to some other old friends (they were more like aquaintances back then, really), and in one of them ive found a friend for life, pretty much. but theyre all great, really.... i seriously appreciate that. they took my mind off my other best friend, whos been kind of ignoring my needs, resulting in me having panic attacks every day.

also, im making more of an effort to talk to & reply to the people i care about, cuz i have this friend who would chat me up every now and then, without me ever messaging him, just for me to ignore him for a couple hours cuz im too tired/busy/whatever... so at one point i was like „wait, what am i doing? hes one of the few friends who actually makes an effort, and i really care about this bitch!!“, so i went ahead and got my shit together, as best as i can at least (depressions still a bitch but im trying)

one last thing i wanna talk about... my view on life. this is gonna be huge, i think. big trigger warning for suicide stuff & other negative shit

im suicidal. always have been. thats not a secret, everyone who knows how to read between the lines (i cant, but most people do) can see that. sometimes you dont even have to, cuz im telling you outright. i usually dont talk about this openly though, not to my friends at least, cuz people only put up with suicidals for so long, and i cant afford to lose anyone else... ahem. anyways, something changed in the way i see suicide. when i was younger, i wanted to die because the pain i had to bear was just too great. there was no hope. and its still true - the pain is unbearable. i am in pain every waking moment. i have been for almost 11 years now. there is no joy, there is no happiness, there is only distraction.

however, thats not the reason i wanna die anymore. i think think that if i put in effort, i think i could be... not in pain, all the time anymore. but, heres the thing: i dont want to. im too tired, im too broken. i dont want to change, and i dont want anyone else to change. now i just want to die, for the sake of it. because i love death, with all of my heart. i think death is the best thing that could happen, to anyone. i 100% believe death is the only thing that will save you, ever. i am not exaggerating when i say „i love death“. and to live, without having the means to safely & efficiently kill myself... its destroying me. i get panic attacks every week thinking about it. what if someone else leaves me? im not gonna take it anymore, i refuse to. i refuse to keep suffering, but to end my suffering once and for all i have to die. i really, truly hate living... it just really isnt for me. and thats okay, im fine with it, im fine with dying - its what i want, its my choice, its my destiny - and i love this destiny. i wouldnt want it any other way - to kill myself, or be killed, thats how i want to go. i just need someone to help me. idk where im going with this, so lets move onto my next point:

my worldview. so.. im not sure when this all started. was it 2020? or 2019? maybe it started to dawn on me even earlier, i dont really know, but its been really intense in 2020. the way i view the world & life has changed drastically (or rather, formed, ive never really thought about it that much before). my mom has made it clear to me that you could be a genuinely good, loving person... and still fuck up your kid for life. and this is why i came to the conclusion that good parents, who dont fuck up their children irreversibly... they dont exist. the moment youre born into this world, youre doomed. there is no one who doesnt suffer, there is no one who doesnt want to die - and if they tell you they dont, they either just dont know yet or are in denial. if there is ANY chance of someone growing up to suffer just like i do - it is not worth it. irresponsible, even - to bring a kid into this world. and, the way the world is, and continues to be, there will never be the chance for someone to never suffer like me. which is why i dont think children should be born into this world, ever. and it fucks with me - it fucks with me so bad.

...happy mew year, everynyan

#long post #suicide tw #negative #corona tw #idk what to tag #2020

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sujiult-blog · 7 years

Text

don’t know you (yet i’m on my knees)

Summary: Jimin is horny. And Yoongi has either the worst or best timing. Depends on how you look at it.

Words: 2484

Not one person in any way is allowed to post this or any of my other works on any site without my consent.

Jimin was hot and frustrated all over.

He hadn’t had a good fuck in months and all he could think about the past week was about this guy named Jeon Jeongguk whom he had been chatting with on an online dating site for nearly a month.

After the first few days of texting they had found out they lived in the same city, a week later they knew that they went to the same university.

jjk: i rlly don’t wanna show my face

jjk: dont get me wrong, i like you and all but after my last relationship i dont think im ready to commit that quickly :(

Jimin was fine with that. He could wait. But with all the teasing texts Jeongguk had been sending on a daily basis had begun to take its toll.

One morning he woke with morning wood after what had seemed like a subtle sexting session the night before and had to finish himself off in the restroom after he had caught himself grinding into a stray pillow with his roommate still slumbering peacefully only a few meters away.

And now his mind was swirling with mathematical equations and fabricated images of Jeongguk.

How tall is he? What’s his eye color? Does he like lazy weekends with takeout? Maybe he’s muscular. Jimin hopes not. He had worked too hard on his abs just to be out-abbed by someone else.

How good was he in bed? Maybe he would be the one to let Jimin top for once. Just imagining it makes his cock twitch. God, he so badly wants to have sex but he never hooked up again after he had an incident with a girl who had had a blood play fetish and tried to slice his dick so she could lick the blood off it.

Jimin felt positively needy to the point the he’s desperate enough to text Jeongguk.

park.jim: JUNGKOOK

jjk: WHAT

park.jim: ok idk how to ask you this but

Jeongguk patiently waits for Jimin’s reply but after the ‘park.jim is typing…’ disappears and reappears for the eighth time he shuts off his phone and returns to his professor’s lulling depiction of the Division of Korea.

park.jim: okay im actually really horny rn and i want to get off so bad and im tired of fucking my hand pls help me out

park.jim: lets meet in the art department restroom, nobody ever uses it i’ll lock it just knock ONCE and i’ll open it

park.jim: and if you don’t show up i’ll understand -_-’

Jimin gathers his belongings, shoving them hurriedly into his messenger bag then taking off, his professor not sparing so much as a glance in his direction.

As he jogs towards the Art Department, Jimin silently thanks his mom for encouraging him to take up the part time job as janitor for sections A and B which were mostly Art and Business buildings so all he really had to do was take down ‘Wet Paint’ signs and walk around for a couple of hours filling up bags with miscellaneous pieces of trash. That and the university gave him a access to various keys including the restrooms.

Jimin holds open the door then locks it from the outside, closes it, and waits.

Yoongi is nearly done with his new mural. A dark blue sky swirling with purple hues. Lights from a huge ferris wheel so realistic they seem to shimmer against the night sky.

It was one of his favorite memories from visiting California last summer. He could still recall the scent of greasy food and the shouts a joyous children dragging their parents across the fair and back. He sighs happily and begins to set up long poles. Clipping white sheets and hooking them at the ends to make sure any stray leaf won’t smudge his work. He pokes at each air flap before packing his art supplies and dropping them off at his art studio. Yoongi considers stopping by for coffee before heading towards his dorm and decides he’d better wash up first.

At first Yoongi finds it a bit strange that the restroom door is closed so he knocks once, then leans his ear against the door just to make sure he doesn’t walk in on something (it has happened before).

Just as he backs up the door swings open and a blur of hands grab his jacket, dragging him inside.

Immediately he’s shoved against the wall with feverish lips exploring the expanse of his neck and chest, exposed by his low cut shirt.

“What the hell kid!” Yoongi desperately tries to wriggle free but the dude just isn't letting go. Yoongi is just about ready to kick the guy in the balls and book it until he receives a particularly hard suck a few centimeters under his ears causes him to stiffen.

The stranger seems to notice. He looks up and stares into Yoongi’s eyes. This is the first time he seems him clearly.

Mussed up blond hair, chubby cheeks, plump luscious lips, and eyes with pupils blown wide.

Suddenly Yoongi doesn’t seem so freaked out. This dude is gorgeous and seemingly willing to hard core makeout session. God knows his sex life is about as dead as his great-great-great grandma (a morbid comparison but you get the point). He takes all things into consideration: 1) he’s making out with a stranger, 2) it’s a really hot stranger, 3) a pocket pussy could never compare to an inviting hot mouth.

So he does the obvious.

Yoongi yanks the stranger upwards, pulling his hair, extracting a whine of pain, promptly shutting him up by smashing their lips together. Their tongues swirl together, teeth clashed, and small fingers began palming his dick through his jeans.

“Let me suck you off please, oh my god please I'm good I swear Ju-” Yoongi cuts him off with a guttural moan.

“Fuck, yes, yes suck my dick.” Yoongi has never felt this weak. He’s practically leaning against the sink, holding onto the handicap rail for dear life.

The hot stranger takes no time with Yoongi’s jeans and has them pooling by his knees in seconds.

Sultry breaths fan over the expanse of his boxer’s as Yoongi looks down just in time to see the black haired male press open mouthed kisses against his clothed erection.

“I- I don’t even know your name.”

“What do you mean you don’t know my name? Of course you do, it’s Jimin you dolt.”

“Jimin.” He likes the feel of it dancing on his tongue, “Ji- Oh shit, ah.” Yoongi had been so absorbed in the newfound information he hadn’t even noticed the his boxers had been removed and was now exposed to frigid air wafting from the small window.

Jimin stares wide eyed. He recalls the ‘subtle sexting’ and remembers Jungkook saying his dick was a pretty average size, but this, this was huge. An easy eight inches, thick and heavy under his palm. Veins prominent against the pretty pink tip. He whimpers with want. This is his dream cock.

He gave it a tentative lick, and whom he believes is Jeongguk, shivers. Jimin took the tip between his lips and hollowed his cheeks, slowly taking it until it hit the back of his throat. His eyes watered and it took all his willpower not to gag. His hand went around the length he couldn’t take and began bobbing his head, moving his hand in sync.

Yoongi had just begun to realize how long it had been, Jimin started gaining a steady rhythm and he was already on the verge of his climax. “Ah, wait-” Yoongi pulls at Jimin’s hair and his teeth accidently graze his cock.

Yoongi’s hips involuntarily buck and Jimin is forced to swallow more than he thought possible. Jimin leans back his mouth releasing the cock with a loud pop, cheek brushing against Yoongi’s erection and a streak of pre-cum is left as he catches his breath.

“Fuck, sorry Jimin, it was an acci-”

“Do it again.”

“What?”

“I said do it again.”

“What do you mean-”

“Fucking hell. I’m telling you to fuck my face Jeongguk!”

Jimin had just called him Jeongguk.

“Okay.”

Then Jimin’s hair is being pulled, little whines emit from his throat, high pitched and needy.

Yoongi’s dick is put to his lips, he looks up lust-filled eyes stare back at him expectantly, “Go on then Jiminie, open your mouth for daddy.”

Jimin jumps a bit as if he had been given a small electric shock. Had Jeongguk just called himself daddy? Oh god, he would have never thought- Jungkook had denied every kink in the book and now he came at him with this.

“I- I Jeon- mph!”

Yoongi’s cock was shoved in his mouth, effectively gagging him. “Good boy Jiminie.”

“Now I want you to hold onto my hips and don’t touch yourself at all.”

Without hesitation, his shaking hands went around his hips, stubby fingers marking the skin red.

Yoongi experimentally thrust his hips forward. Jimin’s eyes widened but he didn’t begin retching and coughing; in fact, his mouth seemed to widen a bit, allowing Yoongi to go in deeper.

Yoongi languidly slides in and out, tugging on Jimin’s hair, adjusting his head as he wanted it. Jimin’s tongue slid under Yoongi’s cock; teeth every so often grazing it.

“Ah- fuck, Jimin. Listen. If I get too rough i want you to pinch me really hard, okay? Nod if you’re okay with me- well, manhandling you.” Jimin nods maybe a bit to vigorously. He was tired of the tortoise like pace ‘Jeongguk’ had set. He was ready for something a lot more heated. He was just about ready to snap and let his inner power bottom take control.

Jimin looked up at Yoongi, his eyes slightly red and watery while the latters were hooded, with a deep look of ecstasy. Yoongi slid out of Jimin’s mouth slowly, his hands twirling through Jimin’s light strands.

Them, seemingly out of nowhere, Yoongi rams right back into his mouth. Jimin yelps but he didn’t pinch Yoongi’s sides, instead he inhales through his nose and sucks it up because his mom didn’t raise no bitch.

Yoongi pounds in and out of his mouth mercilessly.

“God Jiminie, you’re so good. I’m almost there babe, hold on a bit longer for me.” But Jimin wasn’t sure he could. Even though his cock had been neglected during the entirety of the intercourse the friction it made with his jeans was nearly unbearable. Then suddenly Yoongi stops and slips out of his mouth and begins to jerk himself off.

“Fuck- ah- open your mouth Jimin.” Jimin does what he’s told, beginning to palm himself through his jeans chasing his orgasm. He knows what is coming and it’s all too much for him.

Jimin comes, loud whines escaping his throat just as squirts of come land in his mouth. His eyes close just as soon as streaks of come cover his eyelash. He feels lips ghosting over his then a tongue slowly begin licking over his lip, cheeks, and eyelid. He sucks in a sharp breath unclear on how to react.

“You did so good Jimin-ah. So good for daddy.”

Jimin whimpers softly, absolute euphoria taking over his mind. Suddenly Yoongi stops. He helps Jimin up looking him dead in the eye. “I’ve got to tell you something.”

“Um, okay?”

Yoongi mutters a string of curses under his breath, sounding mainly like insults directed toward himself. “I’m actually-” A loud ping resonates in the restroom followed by several more. Jimin knows they’re texts from Jeongguk, but… Jeongguk was right in front of him.

“Uh, give me a second.” Jimin digs through his pocket and takes out his phone reading the text.

jjk: OHMYGOD

jjk: I KNOCKED OUT I JUST READ THIS JESUS CHRIST

jjk: i feel really bad fuuck

jjk: imma be honest with you jimin even if i read the text when you sent it… i dont tjink i would’ve gone :[

jjk: think**

jjk: this is really awkward. imma leave… bye

Jimin looks up at Yoongi in horror. “Who the fuck are you?” he exclaims, “Oh my god I just sucked a strangers dick. What the hell? Why did you let me suck your dick? I want to die. You’re not Jeon-”

“That’s what I was trying to tell you! But I really wanted a blowjob and you’re really hot…” Yoongi then remembers that he wasn’t the one who had begun the makeout session (as enjoyable as it was). “Besides you were the one who began eating my face!”

“Because I thought you were Jeongguk.”

“Well I’m not. My name is Yoongi! But why were you so eager to suck this Jeongguk kids dick if you don’t even know how he looks like?”

“It’s a long story that doesn’t involve you!”

“Oh it doesn’t involve me? You literally just sucked my dick!”

“Speaking about your dick, why don’t you put your pants on right already? It’s really distracting!”

Yoongi smirks, he silently pulls up his boxers and jeans. “Distracting? Do you want another taste Jiminie?” He takes a step forward, then another, and another, forcing Jimin to back up against the wall. He places his arms on either side of the cowering boy, effectively trapping him. “Or perhaps a little more than that. Let me tell you, I wouldn’t mind having a bite of you.” His hand sliding down to Jimin’s hips, playfully snapping his waistband. Jimin flinches, cheeks reddening along with the tip of his ears.

“Fuck off.” Jimin whispers.

“I don’t think I heard you princess. Wanna speak up?”

“I said fuck off- Mph!” Lips press on his. Tongue sliding into his mouth and wandering hands groping at his bottom. Jimin moans. “Catch me.” He whispers.

Jimin jumps up, legs wrapping around Yoongi. Large hands massaging his ass. Nimble fingers putting pressure against his hole.

“You’re a tease you know that?”

Yoongi just smirks. “Seems like you want more. How about we go out for coffee first. I’ll see if you’re as nice as you look. Maybe then I’ll dick you down.”

“What?! Who even said I wanted to go on a date with you? Much less-”

“Shut up and let’s go.” Yoongi opens the door and looks back, “You should drop Jeongguk a text and tell him you just sucked his favorite teacher’s assistant's dick.”

“This can’t be happening! I thought you said you didn't know him!”

“Just remembered. I help out like 300 kids. It’s difficult to keep track. Now, let’s go princess. If you behave I’ll buy you something nice.” Yoongi’s hand stretches out, large hand open wide. Jimin stares back nervously. He takes a deep breath and takes Yoongi’s hand.

The door shuts with a bang, and all that’s heard is someone letting out a deep chuckle, a rumbling voice whispering, “Good boy.”

#yoonmin #yoongixjimin #yoongi #jimin #bts #fanfiction

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mini-moongi · 7 years

Text

I Need You

Request: Hi! Can you write a soulmate au with anyone from the rap line where you get a symbol (when you turn 16)representing your soulmate somewhere on your body, in the same place as your soulmate, that represents them/their personality? Can you also have the reader and the person of your choice from the rap line be childhood friends?? Sorry if I’m asking but too much, but if you do write this, I will be very happy! - Anon

Suga (Yoongi) x reader

Genre: angsty fluff

[Gif doesn’t belong to me]

I got my first request! Im frEaKinG ouT I changed it up a bit, so that you have two marks. One represents you, but you were born with it, and the other is your soulmate’s that you earn when you’re 16. That way, you can recognize your own mark.

Summary: Yoongi promised to be there for your 16th birthday, the day you were to get your soulmate’s mark, but failed to show up. You waited for him patiently, although you did study abroad. You meet up with Namjoon, who was a study buddy, and decide to record a song.

[ Soulmate AU]

You blew out the special candles that lit up your birthday cake. You were turning sixteen, the age where you’d get your soulmate’s mark. You tried to be happy, like the people surrounding you, but it wasn’t the same since Yoongi hadn’t shown up.

People often started to travel the world in search of their soulmate at your age, desperately trying to find their destined lover. Yoongi was the same, leaving last year on the day after his sixteenth birthday. He used his soulmate as an excuse to leave and pursue his dream because his parents didn’t really support him.

You two were childhood friends, talking about wanting to create music for people all over the world. You supported each other, through good and bad, which is why you two were so close.

“ Yah Yoongi, when you become famous, you better get me free tickets to your shows.” You laughed along with him. The happy atmosphere was doubled when he smiled at you. It was alluring, and you were drawn to him. “ When you leave after you’re 16, stay in touch, okay?”

“ I promise, when I leave next month, I’ll come back for your sixteenth birthday next year.” His head turned to face you as he gave you a lopsided grin. You looked at him in a disbelieving manner as you laughed out your next words. “ Really? But what if you forget?”

“ I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I’ll even get you a Kumamon bear if I have to.” His tone seemed reassuring to you, so you agreed happily to his offer. You two stared into the crisp night sky, wondering of the future.

You stared at the same night sky, in the exact spot you two made the promise. It was a whole year of being ignored, never updated, and being alone. His number was deleted somewhere along the way, he must have forgotten about you.

You shook your head at the thought, maybe his flight was delayed. He promised to be here, not to keep in touch. You watched as your soulmate’s mark slowly started forming around your wrist. The feeling when it appears is different for each person, and yours just so happened to burn.

On your left wrist was a piano music chord that wrapped around like a bracelet. It had a set of notes, and the chords seemed to be on flames. The chord was unfinished, and seemed to fade into your skin. Great, now you had to play piano for this shit.

Your right wrist had your mark, but you’ve seen that since you were born. Sighing as you flopped onto your bed, you fell asleep with your thoughts filled with hope.

The next day, however, he didn’t show up. You were going to leave to study abroad soon, so you hope he’d show up before then. You decided to figure out what these notes on your wrist meant, so you went up to the piano in your house. You remember the pristine piano, recalling a fond memory.

“ You’re doing it wrong. Your hand goes over there.” He bluntly picks up your hand and moves it to another side of the piano. The boy places his own hands across from you, gently touching the keys. “ Start.”

You both played a rhythmic melody, clashing together in waves of music notes. The sound amplifies as each verse progresses, building up each key as you press the notes. His part intertwines with yours, creating a song of separation. When you finished, he spoke up, “ You didn’t fuck up, I’m proud.” He smiles and gives you a hug, shocking you with the kind gesture.

You place your hands on the keys of the piano, trying to remember how to play the piece. You do it as a warm up, but because it’s a two player song, the piano’s music became a sad piece, calling for its forgotten partner.

You look at your wrist and started playing the first few notes from your soulmate’s mark. The unfinished end of the chord kept spiraling along your arm with the rest of the music notes. You keep playing, and a beautiful melody softly drifts through the air.

After that, you played it over and over, unable to tear yourself away from the piece.

[Years Later]

You called up Namjoon, having lost the directions to his studio. You met him when you were studying abroad, and you two indulged in the passion of music. You often worked on music projects with him, and you both always came out with the best results. He accomplished his dream and joined a kpop group back in 2013. Today, he wanted to meet up to show off his studio.

“ Hey, was I supposed to take a left or a right?” You asked him through the phone. You eventually see him at the front of the building, and he guided you to the room.

“ You’ve got on a dope new jacket, where’s it from?” Namjoon pointed to the leather jacket you had on with your outfit.

“ A friend gave me this when we were kids. I never really fit it until now, so I didn’t get a chance to wear this for a long time.” You shrugged at your reply and walked into the studio. Yoongi gave it to you for your fourteenth birthday, but you had to wait until you grew into it.

It was stylized, probably to his preferences, and looked fairly new. “ All the new music we’ve been working on is stored on this computer.” He proceeded to show you some really cool projects they’ve been preparing. You gave some advice on how to improve it, and he took notes to remember. One song in particular, caught your attention.

“ Did you write this song?” You asked Namjoon. He looked over at you disappointingly,” It’s good, right? I helped make this song, but it was someone else’s idea for the melody. I’m pretty sure it’s called ‘I Need U’ or something.”

Namjoon discussed the things that you’ve been practicing and brought you up to the recording booth. You were here to record a song that he wrote, and the lyrics sealed the deal. Namjoon received a text message, and replied before putting his phone away

You loved the thrill of singing and rapping, and this song proved it. Namjoon told you that you were going to be a part of a duet, which you thought was interesting. Nevertheless, you began the song.

You had a single rap verse and you sang the chorus of the song. It was about the red string of fate, and soulmates who were split apart. It’s a sad song, really, and you wanted to relate to it.

Yoongi forgot his headphones in Namjoon’s studio, and he went to pick them up. He was working on the upcoming song “ I Need U” and left his headphones when he went back to the dorms. Yoongi decided to text Namjoon on his way there, so that he would have a heads up.

Yoongi was tired, but tried to stay awake as he walked down the familiar hallway. He quietly opened the door, only to be met with music and a very talented voice.

Your rap was so clear and every word sounded like it had a meaning behind each one. Your voice sang with each emotion played in the song, like the words were telling your story. Yoongi’s eyes roamed around until it landed on you, instantly caught in your voice. Your focused expression and the way you sang drew him closer to you, almost entrancing him to stay.

He walked quietly up to Namjoon, who had the headphones next to him. Right when he was going to grab his stuff and leave without you noticing, Namjoon talks into the microphone. “ You did great, y/n. Come meet one of my friends.”

It couldn’t really be you, could it? Yoongi refused to return to Daegu after he left. He deleted his own number, and ignored every mention of your name, so why couldn’t you leave his mind? You made him feel something he couldn’t, and didn’t, want to understand, so he left.

The guilt that he felt overseas made him too afraid of returning home, too afraid to see you. He remembered the promise and knew he broke it, so coming back, he didn’t want to see you upset on your sixteenth birthday. Even the sheer fact that his soulmate’s mark matched yours, further convinced him to stay away.

“ Y/n, I’d like you to meet--” Namjoon’s words were cut off. “ --Yoongi?” You couldn’t believe it. The person you’ve always waited for, was standing in front of you. You were shocked, you gave up entirely on ever seeing him again. You wanted to be angry for all those years he ignored you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do such a hurtful thing to him.

“ I’m sorry.” Yoongi wasn’t the one to apologize, but the guilt made it unbearable. You were wearing the same leather jacket he gave you, and when he looked at you, he could tell that he’s missed a lot in your life. He missed you, that’s for sure.

“ I-I’m so sorry...” Without another word, Yoongi hugged you. You haven’t seen him break down since that one time he accidentally pushed you off a hill and you broke your wrist. He held onto you tightly, cradling your body in his arms. Tears were streaming out of his eyes now, unable to separate himself from you.

“ It’s okay Yoongs..” You pat him on the back, rubbing soothing circles along the way. His head rested on our shoulder, and you looked over his. You made eye contact with Namjoon, who was confused as hell. He mouthed out the words, “ I’ll give you a moment.” before walking out.

You and Yoongi stay in that position for awhile, just listening to each other’s heart beat. You two pulled away slowly with his hands on your waist. “ Are you mad at me?”

“ You’ve only ignored me for half of my life, no big deal.” You shrugged and avoided eye contact. Yoongi always went soft on you, and this was no different. “ I-I’m sorry, y’n. Please don’t be mad.. I’ll even buy you that kumamon bear I promised-- or get you your favorite ice cream..”

“ Of course I’m not mad at you, Yoongi.” You giggled softly. You could see his panicked expression turn into one of relief. “ You’ve been busy, that’s all.”

He could only smile and hug you again, except less dramatically. You were in his arms, and he couldn’t have been happier. His cold demeanor, without fail, consistently became sweeter with you.

Now he knew why.

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

-A/N-

I hope the ending was okay, I kind of winged it there. Thank you for requesting! I hope I did your request some justice.

-requests open!-

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