#it would be fine but on all 4 walls its so suffocating and my room gets no sunlight so it always feels really grey and drab the colour is

[mumintroll]

going to ask if i can repaint my room for my birthday lol im scareddd i think im going to get berated bc i got to choose what colour i wanted it painted when we moved here 2.5 years ago but ive hated it ever since i moved in ive regretted it from the very start... if i am going to be living in this room for the whole summer i at least want it to be a colour that doesnt depress me

[happyreid187]

Privilege - Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

WC: 2.1 K

A/N: Sad Spencer post nightmare comfort. Discovering and sharing feelings about each other. Mild angst then fluff. I wrote this after my season 8 rewatch but it’s not explicitly situated in any particular season. 

Warnings: Brief mentions of Spence’s various trauma; case issues, mom issues, drug use, generalized dark and twistiness. Insecurity. Swearing. Single sentence implying reader grew up religious. References to sex but not actual smut. 

____

With both of us working insane hours, we agreed early on to be casual, and then completely and entirely ignored that agreement in every way except verbiage. Avoiding labels and verbal expressions of affection, I pretended that it wasn’t emotional self destruction to spend every waking hour with this man who was notably not my boyfriend. With the amount of affection between us, it was easy to pretend it was something more. When we weren’t working, I essentially lived in his bed.

____

I was deep asleep when I heard him whimpering, waking to find him tossing and turning, breathing quickly. It took me a second to get my bearings, but when I did, I woke him as gently as I could

“Spencer! Spence.” His eyes shot open, and he immediately jumped, looked to me with his eyes welling up, and started shaking.

“Hey,” my voice was desperate as I wrapped my arms around him, “Baby, what’s the matter?” The pet name was generally reserved for other activities in this bed, but it felt appropriate now. I ran my fingers through his hair, trying to calm him. “Was it about a case?”

“It was about...” he started. “No, I don’t want to freak you out!” He sort of tossed and turned again, now in my lap. “This isn’t your job, you shouldn’t have to deal with this.” He sounded angry; with himself, and the situation. I tried to ignore the feeling that’s he might be angry with me.

“Why would it freak me out? Your job is depressing as shit, Spence. This is kind of predictable. Talking through it with you? None of this is work for me. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but you can.” I said, waiting for him to decide how to proceed.

He fiddled with his hands in that nervous way of his. “It was about you. First, you were breaking? Like glass on a windshield? Cracking but not falling apart. And everything around us was breaking; the phones and then the walls and then your face,” his voice broke then, “and then my own chest.”

Where the tears were only threatening to overflow before, he was really crying now, in a way I’d never seen him do before. In a way grown men rarely do in our terrible society if they can avoid it. In a way that made it hard for either of us to breathe. “But then it sort of mixed with work, and there was an unsub and he had you, and I couldn’t get to you. I tried, but I couldn’t get to you, and then...” he paused there, and I inferred the rest by his pained silence.

“You don’t have to keep going, I get it. And I’m not freaked out. I’m right here, Spencer. You’ve got me, and I’ve got you too. You are okay. You’re okay.” he didn’t say anything for a minute, and I rethought my words. “I’m not trying to belittle or silence you. I know you don’t feel okay. But you’re here with me, and no one’s broken, and you’re breathing, and I’m breathing, and you’re okay.”

“I’m not worried about me...” he grumbled, like it was obvious. Like I was wasting our time, worrying about him.

“Well I’m fine. I’m good. I’m happy to be here for you.”

He looked up at me doubtfully. “How can you be happy to be woken up at 4:02 am?”

Too sleepy to veil my feelings entirely, with words like adoration and devotion drifting through my head, I settled on saying, “It’s a privilege to have the chance to be here for you, and support you, and help you feel better. I have you, and you have me; okay? I’m here.”

“I’ve got you...” he softly echoed my words from earlier.

“You’ve got me.” I answered easily. It was a simple, honest fact to share.

There was a shift in him then. He pushed himself up with one arm, leaning back and staring at me, looking exasperated and vaguely frantic, like he just realized something was wrong. He looked almost angry as he asked “What the fuck are we doing?

I didn’t even know how to begin to answer that question. “I’m sorry?”

“I’m having nightmares about losing you, you’re like, taking over my subconscious, and renting all this space in my head, and then I wake up to find you here, in my bed, drying my tears and calling it a privilege! Like do you have to be so... I don’t know. Warm?” Well, that was a new one. I had never known that to be a bad thing, particularly with him. He flocked to my sentimentality like a moth to a flame.

He wasn’t done though. “I never intended to care about someone this much. It’s confusing for me. I know you have your catholic guilt, but you don’t have to martyr yourself for me. Dealing with my shit is emphatically not a blessing.” He took a deep breath and braced himself. He half smiled, half sobbed, and to be frank, he was freaking me the fuck out. “Unless you..” he trailed off. IQ of 187; an epic communicator, this one. I gave him a look that begged him to continue, holding my tongue as if he would break, like the dream, if I spoke. He sighed heavily, trying to catch his breath. I reached over hesitantly, unsure if he wanted to be touched, terrified of making it worse. Slowly, I wiped away the tears on both cheeks, willing him to look at me. He didn’t, choosing his lap instead.

I waited for him to continue. “I don’t have a lot of experience with fuck buddies,” he spit the last two words like they repulsed him, like they didn’t fit right on his tongue. Foreign words with uncertain and unsettling definitions. “...but I don’t think it’s supposed to feel like this.”

“Feel like what?” Despite the tears and the heavy air that threatened to suffocate me, I felt a new feeling. Like I would maybe feel better soon. I silently begged him to speak faster, hoping he could somehow telepathically pick up on my anxiety as I hung on every word.

“A privilege. That’s just...” he paused again, shaking his head. I could feel my anxiety coursing through my veins in a bizarrely literal sense. I wasn’t entirely sure where he was going with this, and I waited in suspense as he chose every word carefully. He then looked with me with the warmth I’d come to know, to expect, and to crave. “I know you’re a really tender person but why would you do this if we're just sleeping together?”

IQ of 187, this one.

After his lengthy monologue with its intensely painful pauses I cut straight to the point. “Are we?”

The sadness vanished from his face, leaving nothing in its place but wheels turning. No more damned pauses; I have to be brave now. “I’m not.”

“What?” I couldn’t figure out what to make of his expression. It wasn’t relief. Concern, maybe? Or disbelief? “Just sleeping with you that is. Does that make you upset?”

“No, no, y/n/n, it doesn’t make me upset.” his eyes meeting my face. I could feel that he was about to ramble, finally, and I was intensely grateful. “It depends on what you really want. It’s hard for me to believe that you actually want this.” he points at himself, like that explained his insecure thinking. Honestly, how dare he speak about my person in such a way, but now wasn’t the time to critique his criticism.

“You want to be woken up by nightmares after cases? To sleep alone while I’m gone? and when I’m around deal with my neurosis and awkwardness and rambling? and family drama? and drug cravings?” He dropped his eyes and his voice, “You could do so much better.”

We didn’t have time to even begin to unpack all of that. Not in the middle of the night, on the edge of everything we both want. I could write a novel explaining how he is in fact the very best I can imagine, but that would take time to convince him of. Time like years. Time like marriage.

Again trying to move this conversation to the conclusion I ached for just a bit faster, I answered directly, “Yes. I want that. I want you.” Like it was the simplest thing in the world.

I searched his face for some sort of happiness or disgust but received a blank stare and a look of bewilderment.

“I just want you. I’ve wanted you this whole time. I thought you would figure it out.” I laughed, and he smiled, a real smile that touched his hazel eyes that somehow sparkled in the dimly lit room, finally. “With fuck buddies, I don’t typically snuggle and go on museum dates or stop seeing other people or stick around for months.”

“You want me?” he smiled, but doubt loomed, and his smile fell as his long fingers traced my jaw.

“You say that now, but I think you’re going to find that I am a difficult person to love.” He said, as if I didn’t already know him. As if I didn’t already see him in all of his brilliance and darkness, all of his complexity and baggage. As if knowing him hadn’t been a precursor to loving him.

“Spencer, everyone thinks that about themselves.” I replied, greeted with still more disbelief. I continued in spite of him. “Besides,” I shrugged with a small smile, like my conclusion was entirely self evident, “It’s too late now.”

“What, you think that about yourself? First of all, you are unbelievably easy to love. The easiest in the whole world, probably. I know that that sounds hyperbolic, but I really mean it - I sincerely think that you are the single most lovable woman on the planet.” he rambled, talking with his hands and earning a tearful chuckle from me. “In my world at least. You are in fact, despite my best efforts, impossible not to...” he paused to physically shove the thought away, moving forward with a grimace.

“Second of all, what do you mean too late? I have a feeling I might know what you’re going to say. Please say it, y/n,” he whispered like that would make it less scary. “Or do you want me to say it? I don’t want to spook you but... it’s too late for what?”

“Too late to stop myself from loving you.”

 Finally, finally a look of understanding graced his face. A look like he believed me. He smiled that stunning, whole face smile of his that was reserved for special occasions.

 “Can you say the whole thing?”

“I love you, Spencer.”

“I love you, too.”

He was only half sitting up anyways, so when I kissed him he fell to the bed, and protested immediately. “No! I’m so gross and snotty, stop.” I settled on peppering kisses on his neck and damp cheeks instead.

I laid my head on his chest, murmuring, “You can go back to sleep, and when you wake up, I’ll still be loving you, and I won’t be broken because of it, and I certainly won’t be gone.”

“Okay,” he responded, voice still broken, but no matter. He’ll heal. He’ll believe me more with time. Eyes heavy and stinging, my adrenaline eventually waned, and I was about to fall back asleep, when his voice pulled me back.

“Just to be completely clear, this is no longer a fuck buddy situation. Like, I'm your boyfriend. Right?”

“Was it ever really a fuck buddy situation?” I laughed “But if it was, it’s over. You are mine, Spencer Reid. If that wasn’t obvious.”

I could hear his smile in his voice “Sorry, it’s so late, and my brain isn’t really working and I just wanted to make absolutely sure.”

He paused for a few minutes.

“I’ll check back again in the morning.”

“I’ll still be here.”

~~~

In my half asleep state, his soft words barely registered. “Good morning, sweet girl. I’m so lucky to get to love you.”

“I love you too.” I mumbled, smiling without opening my eyes. There’s his confirmation. He’s always been one for collecting good data, I suppose.

“Please keep doing that.”

[fruitquake]

21 for fluff (but make it angst??) <3

of course you'd want me to make it angst asdfgmn

(this isn't like. pure angst, but there is angst so yayyy pain and suffering woo)

-

It’s 4 AM. It’s 4 AM and once again, Remus is awake. He can’t remember the last time he got more than 2 hours of sleep. The anxiety is constant these days, eating away at him until it feels like there’s nothing left but an empty shell of himself, staring into the thick, suffocating darkness. It’s too much. He needs to get out of here. He needs fresh air and a cigarette.

The dormitory is quiet except for Peter’s soft snores, and the sound of his clothes ruffling as Remus fumbles through his stuff for a pack of cigarettes and his wand is much louder than it ought to be. The others must be asleep, though, and Remus doesn’t think the sound is enough to wake them.

He finally finds the half-empty pack of cigarettes and sticks it in the pocket of his pyjama pants along with his wand, before sneaking out as quietly as he can.

He has barely made it down the stairs to the common room when a voice penetrates the quiet of the night and makes him jump out of his fucking skin. “Where are you going?”

“Fuck.” Remus leans against the wall, quickly collecting himself. “You startled me, you wanker.”

He can’t see Sirius through the darkness, only a vague shadow moving down the stairs, until he’s only a few feet from Remus, and finally visible in the dim light of the common room. “Why are you sneaking out in the middle of the night?”

Remus isn’t sure if he is imagining the accusatory tone in Sirius’s voice. “I need some fresh air,” he says. It’s no use lying to Sirius. That son of a bitch sees right through him.

Sirius nods. “Me too.” He steps past Remus and lights his wand with a quiet whisper. “Let’s go.”

“Oh.” Remus turns and looks at him. How does he look so beautiful at fucking 4 AM, with messy hair and dark circles under his eyes? It’s not fair. “Actually, I kind of wanted to be alone.”

“Moony, Moony, Moony.” Sirius shakes his head and sighs dramatically. “We both know that’s not true.”

And maybe if it were anyone else, Remus would’ve told them to fuck off. But it’s Sirius, the stupid unbelievable boy who Remus is hopelessly in love with, and he really is the only person Remus would want to be around right now. “Okay, fine,” he mumbles. “Let’s go, then.”

They sneak through the castle and out into the courtyard. It’s colder than Remus had anticipated, and he suddenly wishes he had brought a coat.

“Oh, you’re really warm.” Sirius leans against him with a content sigh. “What do you say we huddle together against the cold like penguins- Why are you tensing up like that?”

Why does he fucking think? Wanker. Remus sits down hard on a stone step. The cold seeps through his pyjama pants instantly, and although he knows it’s a bad idea, huddling together for warmth does sound nice right now. “Get down here, then.”

Sirius sits down next to him, their arms brushing slightly, and Remus takes out the pack of cigarettes. He takes one for himself and hands the pack to Sirius.

“So what brings you out here in the middle of the night?” Sirius asks as Remus lights both of their cigarettes with his wand.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“I just followed you.”

“But that means you were already awake,” Remus says.

Sirius shrugs. “I… haven’t really been sleeping all that well lately.”

"Oh. I had no idea.”

“Yeah, well.” Sirius chuckles and takes a long drag of his cigarette. “I don’t want you guys to worry about me. I’ve just been... having these nightmares.” He winces and looks away. “They’re mostly about… home. Well, not home. Hogwarts is my home. Prongs’ place is my home. But you know what I mean.”

Remus nods. Sirius has never told him details about how his family treated him, but he knows it was bad. He didn’t know it kept him up at night, though.

“I haven’t been sleeping well either.” It’s not something Remus has told anyone else, but there’s something about this moment, Sirius’s vulnerability, the warmth they’re sharing, that makes him want to spill everything he’s been keeping to himself lately. “I rarely have nightmares, but that’s because I don’t really sleep at all. Every night lately has been hell, because I just lie awake and stare into the nothingness and there’s this big well of pain and anxiety and loneliness that’s sometimes so deep, it feels like I can’t breathe.”

That was a bit more than he was meaning to share, but it’s too late to take it back now.

Sirius reaches out and takes his hand, and Remus lets him. “That sounds like a lot to deal with alone.”

Remus shrugs. “So does your thing.”

“So maybe we shouldn’t be dealing with it alone,” Sirius says. His eyes are glowing in the faint light, and they’re looking right into Remus’s like they’re searching for something there. Their faces are so close, Remus could lean in and kiss him right now. He isn’t going to, but it’s all his idiot brain can think about.

Sirius seems to finally realize how close he is getting, and he leans back an inch, but his hand stays on Remus’s. “We may not have much,” he says quietly. “But we have each other. It’s us against the world, the way it always has been.”

In that moment, Remus loves this daft fucking bastard so much its unbearable. “That’s some cheesy shit,” he says, grateful that his voice isn’t too shaky. “I didn’t come out here to have some deep fucking talk. Can’t we just smoke in silence?”

Sirius laughs and finally lets go of his hand. “You’re a treasure, Moony.”

“And you’re the bane of my existence.”

Sirius stubs his cigarette out on the ground and leans against Remus, and Remus really tries not to tense up this time.

“‘M so tired,” Sirius mumbles. “Mind if I just fall asleep like this?”

“Yes,” Remus says. “I’m not carrying your ass up to bed. Do you know how many stairs that is?”

But Sirius isn’t listening. He yawns and snuggles up next to Remus, and Remus just has to sit there and endure it and try not to focus on how close they are. It’s torture. But it’s also, infuriatingly, really fucking nice.

“Thank you,” he says quietly, unsure whether Sirius is awake enough to hear him. “For coming out here with me. Honestly, it was really nice not being alone.” There is no answer; Sirius must already be asleep. For a fleeting moment, Remus feels bold. Reckless, even. “I love you,” he whispers.

The words hang in the air, foggy in the cold night. But Sirius is asleep and there is no one there to hear him, and it’s probably better that way.

[bakusdumptruck]

Bakusquad Crack Post

Sup bitches 🤩how’s your day been? hope its been good! Anywayyy i was listening to a “Rolling joints with Sero Hanta” playlist and this popped up in my mind sooo here’s a little Bakusquad scenario 😏

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.

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Pairing: aged up Bakusquad x GN Y/n

Warnings: Use of marijuana, swearing, injuries

Summary: A smoke session with the babes turned into a chaotic mess 

Ights sluts lets get into it 😈

Sero Hanta is the stoner of the group. Period. 

He taught everyone how to roll up just incase he was too high to function and wanted to smoke more

One night he texted the gc asking if everyone wanted to have a smoke sesh before they had to study for exams 

You all agreed and went over to his dorm together

All except Bakugou.

He called all of you “idiots” and “dumbasses” for getting faded before studying, but all Sero had to say for him to come was

“Ight bakubro, if you can’t handle it you could’ve said that instead of making excuses 🤷🏻‍♂️”

Bakugou showed up within 5 minutes.

Once everyone was together, tape boy had everything set up

There were 4 joints lined up, hella snacks, drinks, video games, and movies

He even had the LED a n d Galaxy lights on

Lordy it was gonna be a long ass night

NOW ON TO THE FIRST ROTATION 🤩

You know how I said Sero is the stoner? yup uhuh he got the MF GAS.

The rotation was Bakugou, Kiri, You, Mina, Denki, then Sero

You all have a high tolerance so after you saw Bakugou coughing up a fucking lung, yall knew you were in trouble

Everyone coughed... except Sero. He just busted a lung laughing💀

So the joint is finished and you’re all feeling fuzzy

yes you’re high, BUT its not enough to get you guys staring at the wall thinking about space and aliens

Just high enough where time is slowed down and your body feels light

Denki randomly shouted to play video games and everyone agreed

Guess what you’re playing 👀

Ju-on. The fucking grudge game. 

Why did Denki choose this game? oh he just wanted to see if it’d be a scarier experience if you’re all faded

It was 😃

Kiri volunteered to play the first stage to show off his Manliness 😤

So there he goes walking into the abandoned building 

yall know how you can use another wii remote to trigger jumpscares? 

yeahhhh Kiri didn’t know about it... and Bakugou was in charge of that

Everyone was chillin, lowkey feeling at edge to prepare themselves for anything about to pop up

Here comes the scene where he opens the door and scary bitch is on the other side waiting to grab him 

K: “Uhhhh this doesn’t feel right... am I supposed to go this way?

B: “No shit dumbass, its telling you go that way isn’t it? What are you scared or something 😏 I thought you were too manly for this game”

K: “I-I’m not scared... just making s-sure.”

M: “Hehe you’re stuttering kiri”

K: “...I’m just cold”

Right before he grabbed the door handle (I kinda forgot how the game went oops 😅) bakubitch tiggered a jumpscare

K: “Okay here I g- what the fuck 😃”

It didn’t work.

K: “Oh that wasn’t too bad! The games gonna have to try harder if it wants to scare m- JESUS FUCKING CHRIST WHAT THE HELL IS THAT”

Scary bitch popped up outta no where and grabbed him

S: “DUDE FUCKING RUN AWAY”

Y/N: “KIRI THE BITCH IS RIGHT THERE WHY AREN’T YOU DOING ANYTHING”

K: “FUCK- CAN’T YOU SEE IM TRYING”

B: “BITCH SHAKE THE CONTROLLER. YOU HAVE TO SHAKE THE CONTROLLER”

K: “AHSJHS WHY ISN’T SHE LETTING GO”

D: “I-IT”S TELLING YOU HOW TO SHAKE IT. GO LEFT, NO NOW RI-”

Kiri accidentally punched Denki in the face 🙃

All: “...whAT THE FUCK AHAHAHSHAH”

yeahhh so thats how the game ended 😭

Denki was laying on the floor staring at the ceiling wondering what the hell just happened and why everyone was laughing at him

D: *in his head* “I just got punched square in the face 😃 and they’re laughing at me 😃 This is fine. 😃”

K: “B-bro are you okay 😭 iM sorry AHAsh its- its just everyone was screaming and AhahhAHAHA IM SORRY 😭”

Sero let him start the second rotation as an apology for laughing instead of checking up on him 

Honestly yall don’t know if you can go on to the third

Everyone was hella faded at this point

Eyes red, dry mouths, and hungry stomachs

Mina ordered TacoBell knowing everyone was gonna want to eat more than the snacks and you all sat on the floor munching away

You all started talking about stupid stuff:

S: “So like... what happens when we get scared half to death twice”

M: “👁👄👁”

B: “👁👄👁”

D: “👁👄👁”

Y: “👁👄👁”

K: “👁👄👁”

D: “I’ve been scared half to death multiple times... im fucking immortal.”

After a few more high conversations Mina suggests to make tiktoks 

Have yall seen the tiktok where Mina and Y/n do the trend where they wink at the camera and all the boys are watching and Baku comes up to kiss Y/n? 

yup you do that BUT

When Bakugou grabbed your cheeks and went in for the kiss he missed and fell flat on his face 💀

*Cue everyone falling on their asses crying*

Best believe the tiktok went viral 🤩

After the third joint yall decided that the room was too suffocating and went out for a walk 

It didn’t seem like a bad idea... until you all got outside

Denki and Sero were singing “Milkshake” at the top of their lungs while wall twerking on the trees

Kiri and Bakugo were racing to see who’s the fastest but kept tripping over their own feet

You and Mina were recording everything those dumbasses were doing.

All of a sudden yall found yourselves in a clear area a bit far from the dorms

Bakugou laid in the grass staring up at the stars and you all joined getting into a little cuddle pile

At this point the effects of the joints hit at once and everyone was out of their heads

They felt like their spirits were floating out of their bodies

*BOOM*

M: “...did you guys hear that”

All: “yes”

M: “should we go check it out?”

B: “Hell yeah. What if it’s a villain? I bet I can beat their ass in less than a second”

Y: “First, thats literally impossible. Second, We can barely fucking move. How do you expect us to fight a villain 🙂”

A Nomu popped up in front of you

D: “Uhhh aye Bakubro... you think you can beat his ass in less than a second?”

B: “FUCK YEAH WATCH THIS YOU FUCKING EXTRAS.”

...

HE FUCKING MISSED Nomu: “ERRHSJAKFjhuSGHD”

Y/n: *shoots up on their feet then falls over immediately* “DAMNIT I CAN’T STAND UP STRAIGHT WHAT DO WE DO”

Everyone started to use their quirks

Sero shot tape to the nomu

Denki sent 1 millions volts

Mina just kept shooting acid out

Kiri hardened up and threw punches like his life depend on it

Bakugou was screaming “die” and kept exploding shit

and You were also using your quirk to the best of your ability

K: *heavy breathing* “guys... i think we got it”

B: “Ofc we did... we literally went bat shit crazy on it”

When the smoke cleared it was still standing in front of you guys... unharmed...

AND IT MULTIPLIED

K: “😶RUN AWAY”

you all started running back to the dorms

well, tried running back to the dorms

Everyone was bumping into each other and tripping

S: “WE’RE GONNA DIE”

Y/n: “WE’RE NOT GONNA DIE JUST KEEP RUNNING... FUCK THEY’RE GETTING CLOSER

Denki ended up facetiming Aizawa in hopes that he would help

A: “Denki, its 4am what do you w-”

D: “SENSEIIII NOMUS ARE CHASING US. SEND HELP.

A: “Why are you guys out of the dorms? aND WHY ARE YOU CALLING ME USE YOUR QUIRKS. YOU HAVE YOUR HEROS LICENSE FOR A REASoN”

D: “WE TRIED. WE MISSED AND IT MULTIPLIED. WE’RE ALSO HIGH AS FUCK BUT WE’RE NOT GONNA TALK ABOUT THAT”

A: “... did you say you were high?”

D: “IRRELEVANT. SENSEI WE’RE GONNA DI-”

The nomu caught him.

A: “Denki... Kaminari... hello?... *sigh* you guys are gonna be the death of me.”

You all ended up getting knocked out by the nomus and taken to the League of Villains hideout 

B: “...Never thought i’d be here again”

S: “ I still have the last joint in my pocket... ya’ll wanna smoke?”

Dabi and Shiggy stared at him like he was crazy but agreed anyway 🤪who’s gonna pass up a free joint? not them. 

So everyone got high again and chilled until the Pro Hero’s saved your asses :)

Oh and also don’t think Aizawa let you guys off the hook. 

You all got house arrest and extra BRUTAL lessons for the next 2 months 

The End :)

Yeahhh idk what this was but I hope you all enjoyed it!! I really wanted to write something angsty but as I was writing I couldn’t take myself seriously and ended up making jokes 😭

[becomewings]

The Most Beautiful Moment in Life <I’M FINE>

    BTS Universe Story Highlights, pt. 2 / 4

« pt. 1  |  » pt. 3

Introduction

JungKook’s and YoonGi’s stories are the first of the paid content in BTS Universe Story and are substantially more detailed than the episodes covered in part 1. As this led to longer summaries (4.2k and 3k), I have added “tl;dr commentary” at the bottom of the post after a section of additional thoughts. This commentary summarizes the parenthetical asides I made throughout the summaries and may be of interest as standalone reading to those who have already played the game yet would like to review its connections to the BU texts and MVs.

Content warning: contains references to death, suicide, suicidal ideation, child abuse, domestic violence, blood, homicide, depression, trauma, PTSD

This guide contains major spoilers and includes references to other BU media

Do not repost, copy, or quote without permission

The Boy on the Threshold

In this story, SeokJin works to uncover the motivations behind JungKook’s nightly street wandering, instigation of fights with thugs, and decision to jump from the roof of a construction site. He was aware of the “darkness” within JungKook but never thought that he would give up on himself. SeokJin is determined to find a way to make JungKook think “I want to live” on his own.

In the afternoon on 11 April Year 22, SeokJin drives by the crosswalk outside Songju Jeil High School. Spotting a grim-faced JungKook, he gets out to greet him. JungKook visibly brightens and pelts him with question after question, finally finishing with, “But how come you’re here at school?” If the player chooses the response “I came to see you” rather than “I was in the neighborhood,” JungKook seems a little disbelieving due to the coincidental timing but nevertheless pleased. SeokJin offers him a ride, thinking that JungKook will not carry out that night’s actions from previous loops if he gets home right away. In the car, SeokJin reminisces aloud about the day they all met. On 3 March Year 19, all seven boys arrived late on the first day at Songju Jeil High School and were scolded outside by the Dean. (Aside from the absence of extra students, this scene looks very similar to the BTS Begins Middle Scene VCR, including the detail of YoonGi arriving last. This VCR predates official BU content.) When the Dean spotted SeokJin in their lineup, he reduced their punishment of community service for one month to just that afternoon. After classes, the boys cleaned the annex. The old classroom-turned-storage room became their secret hideout where they enjoyed various activities like dancing, playing the piano, and spending time with one another. JungKook appears happy as they chat about their school days, although in one path, his face falls after he remembers when he and YoonGi were caught in the annex. SeokJin is concerned, but JungKook insists, “It’s nothing.”

They say goodbye outside JungKook’s house, but SeokJin watches to make sure he goes inside. JungKook hesitates before ringing the bell at the gate. His mom answers, surprised and at a loss by his unexpected arrival. She asks him to come back later because his father’s relatives stopped by, and the intercom cuts off before he can answer. (His mother remarried, so this is really his step-father and family.) SeokJin wonders if JungKook has no one to lean on at school or at home and if this is why he wanders the streets at night. He asks JungKook where he wants to go now. “The beach… the one I went to with you guys,” JungKook answers, then says he’s kidding when SeokJin hesitates, thinking about the night ahead. SeokJin invites JungKook home instead, hoping to keep an eye on him before he needs to save NamJoon at the gas station.

In his bedroom, SeokJin hastily takes down the map and notes pinned on the wall of the boys’ incidents around the city. After letting JungKook inside, he shows him a box of photos from their time together in school. While JungKook browses, a notification on SeokJin’s phone reminds him of Songho Foundation’s inaugural ceremony that evening. Songho Foundation is a scholarship foundation funded by his maternal grandmother’s estate, and his father formally introduces him on this occasion. SeokJin also receives a call from his father’s long-time aide, a man he refers to as Uncle JunHo, who instructs him not to be late to the ceremony. Claiming it won’t take him long, SeokJin asks JungKook to stay there and wait for him to return. He is worried about leaving JungKook alone but also concerned that bringing him to the gas station after the ceremony will make him late to intervening in NamJoon’s incident.

In the lobby of the hotel hosting the Songho Foundation Inauguration Ceremony, SeokJin recognizes many important faces from around the city: Song JunHo, his father’s aide; Seo HyunJung, the city’s deputy mayor; the CEO of Youngjin Engineering & Construction Company; a professor from Munhyeon University; and the Jeil High School principal, Jo JinMyung. SeokJin doesn’t want to cross paths with the principal but is drawn into a conversation with him, the mayor, and his father, Kim ChangJun. “Assemblyman! Congratulations on the launch of the scholarship foundation,” Deputy Mayor Seo says to Kim ChangJun. “I hear that your son has been accepted to Munhyeon University? You must be happy that he’s attending your alma mater.” Kim ChangJun shakes his head. “He still has a lot to learn.” She remarks that everyone knows how well SeokJin has grown up and inquires about his career plans. The player is presented with three choices: “I haven’t decided yet,” “I want to become a good person,” and “I want to become someone like my father.” SeokJin’s father continues to look grim while the others chuckle in response to the first two answers, but his expression softens at the third, which SeokJin knew would not rub him the wrong way. Deputy Mayor Seo proposes to Assemblyman Kim that they establish a regular meeting to discuss community development, mentioning that it would be better if he could invite the city’s prominent citizens and give a speech. Assemblyman Kim agrees, telling his assistant Song JunHo to make note of it. The ceremony concludes, and the guests head towards the hotel’s restaurant. SeokJin is wary of his father’s watchful gaze but impatient to carry out the rest of the night’s plans. While his father is surrounded by other people, he informs Uncle JunHo that he has to leave to work on a group project. SeokJin slips out of the hotel and heads to NamJoon’s gas station.

While SeokJin is gone, one of the photos in the box catches JungKook’s eye. It shows the seven boys sitting on a wall with the ocean behind them. (This photo resembles the shot in Euphoria at 5’32” except that they appear to be wearing school uniform shirts and slacks.) A flashback retells the afternoon of 12 June Year 19 when the boys cut school early and visited the sea, trudging over 3 kilometers under the scorching sun to find a boulder that is rumored to make your dreams come true. (The date is not specified in the game, but the memory closely follows this set of entries in The Notes 1.) Everyone collapses in disappointment when they can’t find the rock at its designated location. JungKook is tired but not as disappointed as the others—just walking there with them is enough for him, even though he often feels uncertain of his place among the group. He gets up on the pier railing, reflecting: “I’ve always liked walking on the edge of walls or on top of lines. Focusing on centering my gravity means that I don’t really think of anything else, and the boundary—not quite a part of either place—always felt like where I should be.” Balancing precariously, JungKook walks until someone grabs his arm. YoonGi scolds him not to do this. JungKook assures him that he will not fall but privately thinks: “YoonGi would often grab my arm when I walked on railings. The others would look after me, too, after seeing him do that. I liked their helping hands. It felt like they were telling me that I should go to them. That this wasn’t my place. Maybe their hands were why I walked on the railings.”

The story returns to the present in SeokJin’s perspective. He rushes back to his room after saving NamJoon and finds JungKook asleep, leaning against the bed with the photos still scattered around him. Feeling both relief and regret, SeokJin quietly coaxes JungKook to lay down and sleep more comfortably. JungKook wakes up and says he should go home after hearing that it’s past ten o’clock. The game cuts briefly to SeokJin’s father in his study with his aide. Kim ChangJun asks Song JunHo to fetch SeokJin, as he needs to know what goes on for the foundation. JunHo says that SeokJin must be entertaining a guest for the group project because he spotted an unfamiliar pair of shoes in the entryway.

Back in his bedroom, SeokJin is startled when his father knocks on the door. It’s rare for his father to visit the second floor of their home, so he let his guard down while chatting with JungKook. “F-Father.” Stammering, SeokJin flinches and gathers up the scattered photos. “Did you leave the ceremony early to waste time like this? Even lying to say you were doing a school project?” asks Kim ChangJun. His cold and reproachful stare suffocates SeokJin. When his father’s eyes scan to JungKook standing awkwardly at the side, SeokJin is plunged into a childhood memory. On 10 October Year 9, 9-year-old SeokJin hid a school friend who was being chased by scary men in his bedroom. His father arrived and asked if the boy was Mr. Choi’s son, saying people had come to take him. When Kim ChangJun ordered him to “be a good boy,” SeokJin froze and was powerless to stop his friend from being handed over. The following day, SeokJin was told his friend transferred schools. (This event is also depicted as the first entry of The Notes 1.) In the present, SeokJin struggles to think of an explanation, smothered by that memory and his father’s pressuring stare. JungKook timidly speaks up. “I was only here to visit for a short while. I was actually about to head home. Hey, I’ll go now.” SeokJin knows he can’t leave him alone yet and finally forces himself to move. “Father, I… I’m going to go out for a little while.” He runs outside, but JungKook is already gone.

The story cuts to JungKook’s perspective as he arrives in a familiar alleyway. He is thankful that SeokJin was so considerate to him but feels that he shouldn’t have gone to his home since it made things more complicated for his friend. “YoonGi even got expelled because of me… Why do I always mess things up for the people around me?” JungKook thinks. The player is presented the choice to either text SeokJin or call YoonGi. In the first path, SeokJin calls JungKook while he is mid-text and says that he’ll come pick him up, but JungKook declines, thanks him, and hangs up. In the second path, JungKook fiddles with his phone, wondering if YoonGi will be annoyed or even answer. He remembers when they crossed paths a few days earlier. On 7 April Year 22, JungKook heard a familiar tune while roaming the dark streets and saw YoonGi playing piano through a broken window of a music shop. YoonGi stopped and eventually staggered out of the shop without noticing JungKook reaching out to him. JungKook tried to play the music by memory, and suddenly YoonGi returned—just like their days at the classroom. (Note: In his 7 April Year 22 entry of The Notes 1, YoonGi is drunk and stumbling by an empty construction site when he recognizes a clumsy piano tune that he’d been playing “not long ago.” But when he runs to the music shop and finds JungKook, the text does not indicate that he remembers this is his second visit to the shop this evening. Additionally, the Wings short film First Love seems to reference some of the events of this night—or evokes YoonGi’s distorted memories of it, mingled with a representation of JungKook’s later accident.)

In the present (11 April), JungKook wonders if YoonGi is doing well. He has thought about him since their chance encounter but doesn’t have the courage to call him first. (The narrative paths rejoin here.) JungKook wonders where he should go now yet doesn’t want to think about anything. He stops in the middle of the road, and a passing car’s headlights make him dizzy. SeokJin arrives in the distance and shouts his name, but JungKook just thinks, “One more step from here. Just one more step, and everything ends.” He steps in front of the honking car. SeokJin calls him in the distance, and JungKook feels everything slip farther away. The glass shatters and the loop resets.

Awakening once more on the morning of 11 April, SeokJin vows to protect JungKook until the end. The memory of arriving too late as JungKook threw himself in front of the car reminds him of how he was also unable to protect his childhood friend when he was 9. He needs to devise a new plan, since JungKook practically ran out of the house when confronted by Kim ChangJun. The story cuts to that evening, with JungKook looking at the photo in SeokJin’s bedroom. This time, SeokJin ignores his phone’s buzzing reminder about Songho Foundation’s inaugural ceremony. He asks JungKook where he’d like to get next and, when he doesn’t have any ideas, offers him a tour of the university campus.

JungKook seems happier looking around the campus, the cherry blossoms in full bloom. SeokJin uses this opportunity to ask him if anything is on his mind and if school is going well. JungKook answers nonchalantly, but SeokJin remembers how grim he looked at the school crosswalk that afternoon. He asks if JungKook still hangs out with the other guys. “HoSeok and TaeHyung are working part-time jobs. The others… I’m not sure,” JungKook answers, expression darkening. SeokJin wonders if he shouldn’t have brought it up but still presses him. “How come? You should talk to them from time to time.” “But it’s because of me,” says JungKook. “The reason why YoonGi was expelled… It was because he was trying to protect me.” 

SeokJin either responds “It’s not your fault” or “Don’t think that way.” Following the first choice, JungKook insists, “No, it’s my fault. YoonGi wouldn’t have talked back to the teacher if I wasn’t there.” SeokJin shakes his head. “No, you couldn’t really do anything given the situation.” JungKook replies that he should have at least apologized and that he never had the chance to tell YoonGi he was sorry. “That’s how you felt, huh… I should’ve done more. I’m sorry,” SeokJin apologizes. JungKook shakes his head with a smile, but SeokJin knows that he doesn’t understand what he really meant. (Per events in The Notes 1, it is technically SeokJin’s fault that the teacher found them in the classroom.) If the second dialogue choice, “Don’t think that way,” is chosen, JungKook questions, “How could I? When it was because of me.” “No…” SeokJin is not brave enough to say that he’s the one to blame. The camera (i.e. the animation) starts wobbling as though SeokJin’s vision is swimming. “SeokJin?” asks JungKook in concern. “I should’ve done more. I’m sorry.” The episode ends with the same dialogue and animation of JungKook shaking his head with a smile, except that in the second path the camera is still wobbling from SeokJin’s perspective. (This is the only episode I noted in the game that has a slight difference in endings based on the player’s final choice, although it is essentially cosmetic.)

Episode 5 opens with a more detailed memory of 11 June Year 20 from JungKook’s perspective. The high school was holding an open house for parents. Not wanting to stay in a classroom, he wandered off and heard piano music drifting from the annex. JungKook slipped into their classroom hideout and settled down to listen. YoonGi continued to play without acknowledging him. The music helped calm JungKook—it seemed as though YoonGi understood how he felt and was trying to console him. The sound cut off abruptly as the door slammed open. “You rascals! What are you doing here?!” the Dean of Students demanded. He slapped JungKook, knocking him down. A flurry of verbal abuse poured over his crumpled form. YoonGi shoved the teacher’s shoulder and stepped in front of JungKook. “Wow, look at this kid… You put your hands on a teacher? You better be prepared, Min YoonGi.” With that ominous threat, the Dean departed. JungKook spoke from the floor. “Hey, sorry for making you—” “It’s nothing,” YoonGi cut in. JungKook wondered why he helped him. It was the first time someone had protected him, and he believed that he would never forget the view of YoonGi’s back. YoonGi asked why JungKook was smiling. “I don’t know.” Still smiling, JungKook touched his throbbing cheek. YoonGi stared at him before breaking into his own smile and sitting down next to him. They sat there wordlessly for some time. The feeling of growing closer to YoonGi made JungKook feel giddy the rest of the day. But YoonGi did not come to school the following day, and two weeks later, he was formally expelled. (The encounter with the teacher and YoonGi’s subsequent expulsion are also referenced in JungKook and YoonGi’s 25 June Year 20 entries in The Notes 1.)

In a brief interlude in the present (11 April at the university campus), SeokJin reflects again that he does not have the courage to confess to JungKook the real reason why they drifted apart. He walks with his eyes trained on the ground until JungKook calls for him to look at the cherry blossoms floating in the wind. The scene cuts to 30 September Year 20 for another of JungKook’s school memories. He stood outside the school’s annex, reflecting that his friends probably didn’t know that he went there every day. Although school was a place he found awkward and unfamiliar, their hideout was a space for him that put him at ease. On that day however, only HoSeok was inside the classroom, gathering up the items they’d left behind. JungKook realized that the time they spent together was now a memory and would never return again. (This is also an entry in The Notes 1.) Back in the present, SeokJin notices that JungKook looks grim once more and tries to improve his mood by asking if they should go to the beach. JungKook privately wonders: “Do you think YoonGi would go? And no one knows what’s going on with JiMin. Will we really be able to go together like we did then?” Holding up his pink camera, SeokJin says they should take a picture to commemorate the evening. They’re both smiling in the photo, and he hopes that they’ll all smile together again one day. After their campus tour, SeokJin walks JungKook home, ignoring the many calls he receives from his father’s assistant JunHo.

At the crosswalk outside the high school the next day (12 April), SeokJin reflects that staying with JungKook instead of attending the inauguration ceremony seemed like a good choice. He prevented JungKook from jumping off the building and stopped NamJoon’s incident too. But SeokJin wants to keep an eye on JungKook for a few days. While he’s waiting, the principal Jo JinMyung approaches and greets him, asking what brings him to the school. SeokJin tries to excuse himself, but the principal brings up the ceremony. “I thought you’d be there, but you weren’t. Did something happen? Why weren’t you there?” Caught off guard, SeokJin either answers vaguely (“I had something important to do”) or honestly (“A friend had an emergency and I couldn’t attend”). JungKook joins them slowly during the exchange, and the principal seems a little suspicious regardless of the player’s choice. In the “honest” path, he adds, “Next time, think about what's truly important before acting.” The paths rejoin when the principal smiles pointedly and mentions that he should call the Assemblyman soon. SeokJin wonders if Jo JinMyung intends to tell his father that he was with JungKook. Kim ChangJun did not approve of the time SeokJin spent with his friends even in school. “Father thinks it’s useless to have human relationships that don’t help you succeed.” When he and JungKook are in his car, SeokJin notices that the principal ominously watches them pull away.

Later that day, SeokJin meets with his father in his office. Kim ChangJun looks exhausted. Though they’re similar heights, to his son he seems like a massive grey wall. “Why didn’t you attend the inauguration ceremony yesterday?” he asks. SeokJin either lies (“A professor asked me to do something last minute”) or answers honestly (“A friend had an emergency and I couldn’t attend”). The ultimate result is the same: Kim ChangJun speaks after a long moment of silence. “The one thing I want from you is for you to be a good son.” “Yes,” says SeokJin. “I don’t think it’s a difficult task. You may leave.” As he exits, SeokJin hears him call Song JunHo and worries that his flimsy excuse will fall apart. Running into the principal may have made matters worse too. Despite his uneasiness, SeokJin has no choice but to keep going and trust that everything will work out. While NamJoon and JungKook are safe for now, he wonders if he can be a person for JungKook to lean on for comfort whenever he needs it so that he will not resort to such an extreme decision again.

SeokJin visits JungKook after school every afternoon the following days. On 15 April, JungKook asks if it’s okay for him to come like this every day. SeokJin assures him, “Yeah. I come to see you because I want to.” He observes that JungKook still seems to take social cues from him rather than acting comfortably, so he encourages him to either pick what they do next or where they should go eat. On 19 April, however, JungKook does not appear at the school gates. SeokJin tries calling him, only to learn that the number isn’t in service. Someone shouts his name, and HoSeok emerges from the Twostar Burger across from the school. “I had heard you were back, but I didn’t think I’d see you here in front of the school.” HoSeok digs a piece of paper out of his pocket, explaining that JungKook stopped by earlier. “He said he’s switching schools.” SeokJin asks where, but HoSeok doesn’t know. This has never happened before in a loop, and SeokJin wonders if he caused it. HoSeok hands over the paper, which JungKook requested be given to SeokJin. It’s a drawing of the cherry blossom tree they saw together, with a thank you note written at the bottom. SeokJin hopes that his suspicions aren’t correct.

Hunting for clues to JungKook’s whereabouts, SeokJin visits Jeil High School’s administrative office the next day (20 April). He receives slightly more information if he acts like he knows the Director of Administration, but as the student records are confidential, the man only reveals that JungKook transferred to a boarding school. On 30 April, SeokJin is summoned to his father’s office. Kim ChangJun asks him to sit down and continues speaking with his aide, Song JunHo. He confirms an upcoming appointment with the Deputy Mayor before asking, “Oh, did you take care of that incident?” “Yes. Do you mean the one concerning the Jeil High student?” JunHo responds. “I’ve taken care of the issue with the student.” Heart racing, SeokJin realizes that his father was behind JungKook’s transfer and deliberately let it slip as a warning to him. On their way out, Uncle JunHo adds, “SeokJin. You do know how difficult it was because you didn’t attend the inauguration, right?” SeokJin promises that he’ll be at the next meeting. Back in his bedroom, he decides that he made the wrong choice in this loop. He wanted to be someone JungKook could always come to, but instead he pushed him farther away. HoSeok calls him at that moment. Voice wavering, he relays that JungKook has disappeared. Some of his classmates stopped by the restaurant that day, inquiring if anyone talks to him often.

The story cuts back to 25 April with JungKook in class at his new school. His mom likes the dormitory here, and he suspects that she feels more comfortable without him at home. School, home, the dorms—he doesn’t belong in any of those places. While pairing up the students, the teacher notices that they have an odd number now and asks JungKook where he wants to go. He closes his eyes and remembers a voice: “JungKook, let’s all go to the ocean.” He thinks, “I want to go…” The scene jumps to JungKook walking towards the ocean shore. The glass shatters.

SeokJin opens his eyes on the morning of 11 April. He wonders what caused the loop to reset and assumes something must have happened to JungKook after he transferred schools. Again, he could not keep his promise of getting them all to the ocean. The episode ends with SeokJin sitting atop the seaside observatory at sunset. (This is a key location on 22 May Year 22, recurring in The Notes and depicted in the HYYH On Stage: Prologue short film and Euphoria MV. It looks the same in the game.) SeokJin ruminates on what may have happened to JungKook and where events started going wrong. He thought he could be the person JungKook needed to lean on, but he failed. This arc concludes with him wondering: “Was my method wrong? Or is it not supposed to be me? Maybe… If the person who’s supposed to console JungKook’s scars and be there for him isn’t me… Then, who can save JungKook?”

The End of His Gaze

SeokJin’s main challenge in saving YoonGi is the unpredictability of his actions between loops. The opening of this story is no different. On 2 May Year 22, SeokJin chases YoonGi after he leaves his workroom with a heavy bag but loses sight of him in the streets. As soon as he picks the nearest motel, black smoke pours from one of its windows. (The sign matches the motel in YoonGi’s scenes of the I Need U MV.) YoonGi ignores the commotion outside the room’s locked door. Once again, SeokJin is too late, and the glass shatters, resetting the loop.

Waking in his bedroom on 11 April, SeokJin considers how YoonGi backs himself into a corner no matter how or when he tries to intervene. It’s different from the incident with NamJoon because no outside person or situation is involved. SeokJin realizes that if YoonGi’s struggle and variables that make his decision so unpredictable are within him, then the only way he can stop YoonGi is by truly understanding him. He takes out his old camcorder from high school, hoping its footage may reveal some clues. In the first video clip he plays, YoonGi is off in the corner of their classroom hideout drawing music staves but speaks up to tell HoSeok and TaeHyung not to play a prank on JiMin. SeokJin wonders if YoonGi still writes music and remembers the piano in his workroom. In the second video, TaeHyung quibbles with NamJoon, who is tired yet refuses to take a nap until YoonGi pushes some desks together and tells him to lie down. SeokJin focuses on YoonGi for the rest of the video, but he is either motionless or off camera. He finds a similar challenge within his photographs: he has less than ten solo photos of YoonGi, and though his face is visible in group pictures, he is never looking at the camera. Still perusing the photos, SeokJin overhears voices from the camcorder. “It being here is a secret. Okay?” TaeHyung whispers to YoonGi. “What’s a secret?” SeokJin in the recording asks. TaeHyung and YoonGi, standing by the piano, both whip around. TaeHyung dismisses it as nothing and shushes YoonGi when he asks, “Why are you hiding something like that?” In the present, SeokJin wonders what they hid in the classroom and decides that it’s worth investigating in case it can help him save YoonGi.

On 15 April, SeokJin visits their old classroom hideout at Jeil High School, which is still being used as a storage room. The player can choose from a total of four locations to explore, provided they select the piano last. SeokJin identifies his father’s name alongside the message “Everything started from here” on the graffitied wall (he first saw this note in his 25 June Year 19 entry from The Notes 1). Even after thoroughly examining the piano, he does not find YoonGi and TaeHyung’s secret or anything else useful. Uneasy at leaving YoonGi alone for so long, SeokJin leaves the school and parks in front of his friend’s workroom. YoonGi appears to be safely inside, so SeokJin browses through the old video files on his camcorder and finds one that continued recording after he thought he had pressed the stop button. Listening to his and YoonGi’s voices, he recalls a forgotten memory of the day they walked out of school together.

The majority of episode 3 plays through a memory of an afternoon that SeokJin and YoonGi walked out of school together (date unspecified; this event is also referenced in YoonGi’s 2 August Year 22 entry from The Notes 2 and the similar Note accompanying Map of the Soul: 7). SeokJin receives a text summoning him to the principal’s office. The office is empty yet suffocating when he arrives. Principal Jo JinMyung arrives and apologizes for making SeokJin wait. SeokJin looks down, heart suddenly heavy. The scene cuts to YoonGi entering the storage classroom as he thinks about all the days he doesn’t feel like going home. It’s not a comfortable place for him, yet there’s nothing for him at the school either, except for the group’s hideout. He feels awkward in the oddly quiet room and puts some sheet music on the piano’s rack. But when he thinks about how no one is there requesting songs from him, he can’t bring his hands up to the keys. The flashback transitions back to SeokJin’s perspective following his meeting with the principal. As expected, the principal wanted him to report on YoonGi’s behavior. SeokJin spoke carefully so as not to tip him off about anything, but he hears internal whispers calling himself a hypocrite even when he’s laughing with his friends. Fretting over how much longer he can protect YoonGi, SeokJin runs into him at the classroom hideout’s door. He hopes YoonGi doesn’t notice how flustered he is, but YoonGi doesn’t say anything beyond confirming that he’s heading home. SeokJin tries to strike up a conversation as they walk out together, but the conversation awkwardly fizzles out whether he brings up food or the weather. YoonGi points out that his phone is buzzing, and SeokJin’s camcorder falls from his bag as he looks for it. YoonGi waves him off when SeokJin films him to test that it still works. He sheepishly lowers the camcorder and forgets to turn it off. YoonGi breaks the uncomfortable silence when they are almost across the field. “Is something up? You didn’t look very happy earlier.” Heart pounding, SeokJin tries to laugh off this sharp question with an excuse, but YoonGi stares straight at him. “You’re awkward too, SeokJin.” “What is?” “Your laugh.” YoonGi pauses before continuing, “When was the last time you genuinely laughed?”

The scene fades back to the present in SeokJin’s car (15 April). He can’t make out the rest of their conversation in the recording or remember what he answered. He wonders why YoonGi asked him that. SeokJin was always tense then, afraid that his friends would learn of his meetings with the principal. Did the others notice, too? While he’s lost in these thoughts, someone outside shouts, “Fire!” Flames erupt from YoonGi’s workroom. Realizing he should have focused on YoonGi and not the video, SeokJin runs into the building. As he tries to open the locked door, he hears the glass shatter.

The fourth episode opens on the night of 11 April with SeokJin watching JungKook and YoonGi walk away from the construction site and towards NamJoon’s container. A few days later, SeokJin spots JungKook on the sidewalk on his way to YoonGi’s workroom. When asked where he’s going, JungKook avoids his gaze and replies, “I was just… walking around.” SeokJin knows this is because he has nowhere to go. Not wanting JungKook to keep wandering and remembering that he was once close with YoonGi, SeokJin invites him along. The perspective switches to JungKook as they enter the workroom. It reeks of alcohol, and YoonGi is fast asleep among empty bottles. “YoonGi… will be okay, right?” he asks. SeokJin picks up the bottles without responding. A memory from their school days occurs to JungKook. TaeHyung chased him around their classroom hideout, trying to snatch his sketchbook and succeeding when JungKook found his escape unintentionally blocked by YoonGi standing in the doorway. JungKook was dismayed when YoonGi called TaeHyung over to the piano so they could look at it together, but then YoonGi deceived TaeHyung and threw the sketchbook to JungKook. In the present, SeokJin doesn’t want to waste time while YoonGi sleeps. He taps a lost-in-thought JungKook on the shoulder and says they should leave, but JungKook responds that he will stay until YoonGi wakes. 

Back again at the classroom hideout, SeokJin hunts further around the piano. He uses an old mop handle to fish out a piece of paper from underneath it. The hidden secret turns out to be TaeHyung’s abysmal math test. Dejected, SeokJin slumps to the floor. On this level, he notices a small handle on the piano’s lower panel and uses it to pop off the cover. Faded music sheets are wedged into the piano’s frame. A phrase on one of them catches SeokJin’s eye. (함께 라면 웃을 수 있다 : The Korean is not translated in game, but Google translates it as “if we are together, we can laugh.” This recurring phrase is instead translated as “we can laugh when we’re together” in The Notes 2. In YoonGi’s 2 August Year 22 entry, he also reflects on finding the note written in the margins of the music scores he took from the classroom. The handwriting isn’t his own. Additionally, a similar sentiment is expressed in a line of You Never Walk Alone, which is the basis for one of the BU-inspired Graphic Lyrics books.)

This message reminds SeokJin of YoonGi’s question: “When was the last time you genuinely laughed?” “This moment is the answer to that question,” he thinks, initiating a flashback to 20 March Year 19. The boys gathered around HoSeok in the classroom, chattering excitedly about the new club he’s leading. TaeHyung jokingly called him “Mr. President.” HoSeok told him only members could call him that before asking YoonGi if he wanted to join. “I’ll allow you to join without an audition, but only you.” TaeHyung exclaimed that he was just trying to get YoonGi to call him president. “Oh, it was obvious?” HoSeok chuckled. “Acting up again, huh?” YoonGi spoke up from the corner. The memory fades, returning to a pensieve SeokJin. He clearly remembers YoonGi’s face as he laughed with the others. “When did we stop laughing? Did it start that day, when I ruined everything?” SeokJin wonders. “It’s my fault,” he says aloud, standing there with the sheet music in hand until the sun begins to set. (Note: the date of the memory may be a typo. On 20 March Year 20 in The Notes 1, TaeHyung overheard SeokJin in the classroom informing the principal of the trouble he and YoonGi had gotten into. SeokJin realized that NamJoon heard it but not TaeHyung, who remained hidden out of sight and then pretended not to know. It’s not impossible that this memory really occurred in March Year 19, but most of them had only met at the beginning of that month.)

On the night of 15 April, SeokJin follows YoonGi at a distance from his workroom to an alleyway bar. (It is possible but not entirely clear that this is the same day SeokJin found the sheet music at the classroom, which is why I did not specify the date earlier.) It appears that YoonGi visits this bar often since the owner asks him if he has money today. SeokJin sits at a table behind YoonGi and watches him knock back shot after shot. Deciding that he shouldn’t leave him alone any longer, SeokJin musters up the courage to join him. YoonGi doesn’t look surprised to see him. He smiles before looking down again. SeokJin attempts a natural conversation to catch up. YoonGi asks why he didn’t come along the night when everyone got together at NamJoon’s container. “It’s been awhile since we’ve all seen each other, and JungKook… Never mind. You were probably busy.” SeokJin apologizes and inquires how JungKook is doing, then turns the same question on YoonGi when he replies that he doesn’t know. “Anything new with you?” SeokJin presses when YoonGi avoids his gaze. “Well, as you can see.” YoonGi dodges a direct answer.

The restaurant owner brings them a second glass. They are quiet in a restaurant full of chatter. SeokJin brings up the past to break the awkward silence, asking if YoonGi remembers the day they walked out of high school together. “Why do you ask?” says YoonGi. SeokJin explains that he remembered what YoonGi said to him that afternoon. “I want to ask you the same thing you asked me then.” SeokJin is nervous but continues, not wanting to waste this opportunity. “When was the last time you genuinely laughed?” YoonGi is silent for a moment. “Who knows.” SeokJin encourages him to think about it. “What good is it whether I remember or not? It wouldn’t change things now, even if I remembered.” YoonGi’s refusal to express his feelings upsets SeokJin more than his indifferent tone. “I just wish he would open up to me so I could figure out… anything. If only I could tell him,” SeokJin thinks. His internal narration continues over a shot of him in high school looking at his phone: “Or maybe… If I went back further in time, mustering up the courage to protect my friends, and prevented YoonGi from being expelled. If I did, maybe now we’d be…” “What’s with that expression?” YoonGi’s voice snaps him into the present, and he stares at SeokJin the way he had when they walked home from school. “Nothing, just… I feel like it’s been a while since I last saw you and I’m wasting time with useless subjects. It’s nothing—” SeokJin tries to laugh it off, but YoonGi interrupts. “You’re the same as always… There’s something there in your expression, but you say that it’s nothing.” This remark hits hard, rendering SeokJin speechless.

YoonGi’s words echo in SeokJin’s head even after he arrives home later that night. How did YoonGi notice what SeokJin thought he kept well-hidden? He once viewed YoonGi as someone who was indifferent to the world and trying to distance himself from everything. It dawns on SeokJin that he is mistaken. He opens his camcorder, hoping to see something new with this changed perspective. A recording plays in which he, YoonGi, and JungKook are the only ones present in the classroom hideout. When YoonGi starts playing piano, JungKook gets up from the desk and carefully stands by him. YoonGi doesn’t seem bothered and continues to play. Suddenly, he stops. “You wanna try?” In the present, SeokJin wonders why he asks JungKook that out of the blue and replays the footage, feeling like he missed something. This time, he notices that JungKook begins chewing his nails before YoonGi asks him. “Can I?” says JungKook. “Why not? It’s not my piano or anything. You can play if you want to.” At YoonGi’s words, the color returns to JungKook’s face and his hands drop from his mouth. SeokJin watches a little more of the video. As the recorded YoonGi patiently corrects JungKook’s wrong notes, he realizes that YoonGi doesn’t merely ask JungKook to play on a whim but out of respect for him.

SeokJin turns his attention to his box of photos. The player can choose up to three to examine. SeokJin realizes that YoonGi is a little further behind the group and not looking at the camera not because he feels left out or is avoiding attention, but because he is always watching how they are all together. YoonGi knows us very well, he thinks. He stopped JungKook from biting his nails by asking him to play the piano rather than acknowledging it directly. He saw through SeokJin and recognized when his laughter wasn’t genuine, even after several years apart. SeokJin thought that YoonGi wanted to give up everything, would never open up to anyone, and experienced feelings that were impossible for him to understand. “But if we were the ones to make YoonGi laugh… It may be possible to save YoonGi,” SeokJin reflects. With more determination, he vows to save him. “I’ll save him no matter what, because we can laugh when we’re together.”

SeokJin visits YoonGi every day after their meeting at the bar, responding that he’s making time to see him when asked if all university students have this much free time. They grow more accustomed to each other’s company, but SeokJin’s glimmer of hope fades as alcohol and aimless wandering continues to fill YoonGi’s life. Since just visiting YoonGi’s workroom seems meaningless, on 24 April SeokJin decides to show him the sheet music he found in the hideout, hoping it will encourage him to resume songwriting. Upon seeing the music, YoonGi has a flashback to 25 June Year 20, the day he received the school expulsion notice. He ran immediately to the classroom and played the piano as though possessed. The anger refused to settle. He shoved all of his sheet music into the piano and vowed to never play the piano again. In the present, YoonGi asks, “Where’d you find this?” At his cold expression, SeokJin wonders what he’s done wrong and explains aloud that he just happened to find it in the hideout’s piano. The papers fall from YoonGi’s hand, scattering across the floor. “Leave,” he spits. “What? Min YoonGi, what’s going on?” SeokJin asks. YoonGi shoves him. “Just leave.” “Don’t do this, let’s talk for a moment,” SeokJin tries again. But YoonGi replies, “I have nothing to say to you.”

YoonGi avoids him after that. On 25 April, SeokJin calls him numerous times without any answer and finds only torn sheet music and empty bottles in his workroom. He remembers YoonGi’s last words to him and says aloud, “It can’t be. No way.” An ominous thought crosses his mind, but he forces it out to focus on recalling something from memory. The story cuts to him running down a street, trying to figure out where YoonGi went to set the fire in the last loop. (It is never clarified what SeokJin’s “ominous thought” is—it may refer to YoonGi setting a fire or possibly even a suspicion that YoonGi figured out SeokJin was involved in his expulsion.) SeokJin finds the same motel (the one with the sign like in the I Need U MV) and rushes upstairs in a cold sweat. Faced with a hallway of identical doors, he doesn’t know how to locate YoonGi’s room. Whether the player chooses for him to call out to YoonGi or “think of something else” (which results in him pulling the fire alarm), the result is ultimately the same. SeokJin forces open the last closed door with a fire extinguisher, but the room is empty. Filled with regret, SeokJin wonders what he has done wrong. “Like an idiot, I… I knew that the location and method of YoonGi’s attempt could change, and yet…”

“Fire!” someone yells. The motel across the street erupts in flames. “No! Please…” SeokJin begs, falling to his knees. “How can I stop this tragedy? … Am I not enough to stop it?” The story ends as he hears the glass shatter once again.

Additional Thoughts

For me, JungKook’s arc really draws back the curtain on SeokJin’s private life. It demonstrates SeokJin’s challenge to balance saving his friends and maintaining his own daily life, particularly fulfilling the duties that fall to him as a prominent assemblyman’s son. We see little of this side of him until The Notes 2, when his perspective has already drastically changed.

JungKook’s reflection about his habit of walking along the edges of walls is an interesting moment of self-awareness. This “tightrope-walking” is depicted frequently in the MVs.

The car accident and loop reset at the beginning of JungKook’s 4th episode suggests the possibility that the I Need U MV depicts JungKook deliberately stepping in front of the oncoming car rather than accidentally. (Maybe people have already interpreted it this way, but personally the thought had never occured to me due to how it’s shot and acted.) The car accident is a recurring theme in the loops for JungKook, particularly as he is struck the night of 22 May and comes to believe that it was SeokJin who hit him.

This internal dialogue of SeokJin’s from YoonGi’s arc gives me a lot to think about: “If I went back further in time, mustering up the courage to protect my friends, and prevented YoonGi from being expelled. If I did, maybe now we’d be…” SeokJin’s first experiences of the time loops are depicted in the Save Me Webtoon. At that time, he believes that 11 April is the date that he can begin fixing things, but it’s not clear if this ability granted by the cat-like creature truly gives him control over to which date the loop resets. (It is more obvious that he cannot control what triggers the reset itself.) Does he ever go back earlier? Only *ahem* time will tell, but if you want some more food for thought, please check out these interesting quotes that occur before 11 April Year 22.

As mentioned above, the following “tl;dr” commentary summarizes the parenthetical notes I provided in the summaries in case you want to review them on their own.

The Boy on the Threshold — tl;dr commentary

SeokJin’s flashback to 3 March Year 19, when all seven boys arrived late on the first day at Songju Jeil High School and were scolded outside by the Dean, looks very similar to the BTS Begins Middle Scene VCR (aside from the absence of extra students), including the detail of YoonGi arriving last. This VCR predates official BU content.

The photo in SeokJin’s collection that catches JungKook’s eye resembles the shot in the Euphoria MV at 5’32” (the seven boys sitting on a wall with the ocean behind them) except that they appear to be wearing school uniform shirts and slacks.

JungKook’s flashback to the night of 7 April Year 22 expands the context of his reunion with YoonGi, adding that he is drawn to the music shop by a familiar tune and through its broken window sees YoonGi playing piano. YoonGi doesn’t notice him when he staggers outside, and JungKook tries to play the music by memory. In his 7 April Year 22 entry of The Notes 1, YoonGi is drunk and stumbling by an empty construction site when he recognizes a clumsy piano tune that he’d been playing “not long ago.” But when he runs to the music shop and finds JungKook, the text does not indicate that he remembers this is his second visit to the shop this evening. Additionally, the Wings short film First Love seems to reference some of the events of this night—or evokes YoonGi’s distorted memories of it, mingled with a representation of JungKook’s later accident.

I mentioned in part 1’s introduction that every episode’s ending is identical regardless of the decisions made by the player, but the end of episode 4 is actually cosmetically different (a wobbling camera/animation effect) if the second path is selected for the last choice. The dialogue is the same.

The end of episode 7 depicts the seaside observatory. This is a key location on 22 May Year 22, recurring in The Notes and depicted in the HYYH On Stage: Prologue short film and Euphoria MV. It looks the same in the game.

The End of His Gaze — tl;dr commentary

The motel sign at the beginning and end of the story matches the one visible in YoonGi’s shots of the I Need U MV.

When searching the classroom hideout for clues on 15 April, SeokJin identifies his father's name alongside the message “Everything started from here” on the graffitied wall. He first saw this note in his 25 June Year 19 entry from The Notes 1.

Episode 3 presents a memory from both SeokJin’s and YoonGi’s perspectives of the afternoon that they walked out of school together. Although the date is unspecified, this event is also referenced in YoonGi’s 2 August Year 22 entry from The Notes 2 and the similar Note accompanying Map of the Soul: 7.

On his second attempt at searching the classroom, SeokJin finds sheet music that was hidden inside the piano. A phrase written in the corner of one paper catches his eye: 함께 라면 웃을 수 있다. The Korean is not translated in game, but Google translates it as “if we are together, we can laugh.” This recurring phrase is instead translated as “we can laugh when we’re together” in The Notes 2. In YoonGi’s 2 August Year 22 entry, he also reflects on finding the note written in the margins of the music scores he took from the classroom. The handwriting isn’t his own. Additionally, a similar sentiment is expressed in a line of You Never Walk Alone, which is the basis for one of the BU-inspired Graphic Lyrics books.

SeokJin has a flashback of 20 March Year 19 in which the boys are excitedly chattering about HoSeok’s new club. However, given the larger context of this moment (both in the past and what prompts it in the present), the date of the memory may be a typo. On 20 March Year 20 in The Notes 1, TaeHyung overheard SeokJin in the classroom informing the principal of the trouble he and YoonGi had gotten into. SeokJin realized that NamJoon heard it but not TaeHyung, who remained hidden out of sight and then pretended not to know. It’s not impossible that this memory really occurred in March Year 19, but most of them had only met at the beginning of that month.

Did you learn anything new from these stories that I did not specifically mention? Let me know in the replies or tags! Please stay tuned for part 3, featuring JiMin and HoSeok’s stories.

[pascalscenarios]

THE ONE (Frankie Morales x Reader)

THE ONE

Frankie Morales x Reader  

Summary: After the ordeal with Frankie, You spend your time alone. In the mean time, Lilah plans on talking to you. 

Warning: Mild Swearing

Words: 2,909

Authors Note: Hello! I hope you all are well! This chapter has me in my feels... I’m debating how long I should make this fic... I think I’m going up to 10, but we’ll see... Enjoy  :) - K 

CH 1 | CH 2 | CH 3 | CH 4 | CH 5 | CH 5.5 | CH 6 |

Chapter 6

You were locked up in your bedroom. You didn’t dare to come out and face Alex. They were sweet, giving you space for a couple of hours to deal with your feelings after the whole Frankie ordeal. You were curled up in your bed, your eyes puffy from balling your eyes out. You staring out the window watching the rainfall.

He told you he loved you. Frankie told you he loved you. You knew he loved you, but after all these years he still wanted to be with you? He had a whole decade to make things right with you, but he decided to swoop in last minute a week before your wedding to fuck things.

He also had no right to tell you how to feel about him. How did you feel?

You heard a knock on the door.

“Babe?” Alex says softly opening the door. They watch you lie there on the bed.

They walk over sitting at the foot of the bed.

“I’m sorry…” you whispered.

“Hun, you have nothing to be sorry about.” They rub your back comforting you.

You turn to face Alex, sitting up in bed, resting your back against the wall. You pulled the blanket up more, grabbing a pillow to clutch in your arms.

“I know you have a lot of questions.” your voice trembled.

Alex stays silent waiting for you to talk.

“When I went out with the girls clubbing, I got lost, I thought I called you, but I accidentally called Frankie. He came picked up, I crashed at his place, nothing happened, but I was hanging out with him today”

Alex looked relieved.

“But I haven’t been completely honest with you about Frankie…” You couldn’t look Alex in the eyes.  

“The day we went cake testing, I told you Frankie was an old friend...he is an old friend. I’ve known him since I was a kid, but at one point we used to date...he’s my ex-boyfriend.” You confessed.

You kept spilling everything.

“I’ve never talked about him with you because I didn’t think I would need to. I didn’t think I would ever see him again. I found out why he left me, he has a daughter. I’m not mad at him at that, not one bit, but it just hurts that he didn’t tell me... and then he told me he still loved me. I know I shouldn’t care, because I’m not with him- I’m with you, but part of me does care-”

You scrunch your face, your lips trembling as you try to stop yourself from shedding tears, but they still manage to fall.

“Ever since he came back- I don’t know how I’m feeling and its suffocating, I’m so confused my head is just-”

“I think I should go,” Alex says.

“W-what?” Your eyes widen

“I think we need time apart” Your chest heaved as you heard them say that. Everything was crashing down on you. You bared your feelings and now he wants to leave you? The feeling you were getting felt exactly like the night Frankie left you.

“B-but the wedding is next week-”

“I know…” They move closer to the bed, grabbing a hold of your hands.

“I think you and I need to think things over alone. We need a couple of days to wrap our head around things, figure out what we want-”

“But I want you…Please don’t go, I’m sorry- ” You cried.

“Don’t be sorry. Look, it’ll only be a couple of days...After we thought about things, well come back and talk about us. We’ll figure things out, I promise, but right now, we need to think about if this is truly what we want, what you want.”

“Alex…”

“No matter what, I love you” They kiss you on the forehead, then leave the bedroom.

…

“My uncle Santiago who told me everything Rehma! The photos of the person in the shoebox was my dad’s childhood sweetheart. They’re Uncle Santi’s cousin. They called them Smiles” Lilah was laying on her bed, staring at a photo of you, Frankie.

“That’s crazy! What happened between them?” Rehma, Lilah’s best friend, was over their phone call.

“Me…” Lilah signs placing the photo down, rolling on to her back.

“What, what do you mean you?”

“You know how I didn’t meet my dad until I was five...Well, he was with Smiles at the time.”

“Right, your mom didn’t tell him about you…”

“...Because he was with Smiles…”

“What? That’s why your mom didn’t tell him?”

“I mean I guess, my parents weren’t serious. They didn’t last long, they thought it was best to remain friends. Obviously, my mom should have told my Dad about me, but I don’t think she wanted to ruin what he and smiles had, but ultimately he was the one that ended up doing that.”

“What do you mean?

“He left smiles and went after me… for a whole decade they had no idea about me.”

“What a mess!” Rehma gasped.

“Tell me about it! but I just feel bad he left Smiles in the dust like that. This is the love of his life!”

“What about you? How are you feeling about all this?” Rehma asked.  

“I have him. He’s forever in my life now. He loves me, I do not doubt that ever. He’s always put me and my needs first, I mean obviously, he’s a dad, that's the job, but it’s time he puts himself first. I’m fifteen, I’m not a little girl anymore. I’m growing older, being more independent…I’ve never seen him be with anyone since the day he brought me home. I just want him to be happy you know.”

“Wow, that's-”

“That's why I'm going to talk to Smiles!” Lilah sits up in bed.

“Are you crazy?! What are you gonna do, pull a parent trap???”

“Some things like that…'' Lilah grabs the photo of you and Frankie, pulling out the shoebox that was hidden underneath your bed.

“I mean I think it’s cute you wanna set your dad up again with his childhood sweetheart, but what if this goes wrong?”

“Act now, think later, fuck it right?!” Lilah squeezes the phone between her shoulder and cheek, as she grabs her backpack, stuffing the boxes in.

“Moon!” Frankie shouted from the hallway.

“I gotta go!”

“Text me how it goes! If you need backup, call me!”

“Okay bye!”

“Moon?” Lilah quickly slips up the bag and hangs up the phone.

Frankie walks into Lilah’s room, finding her on the floor with her bag.

“Yeah, Dad?” She smiles.

“What are you up to?”

“Nothing..” She stands up, slinging the bag over her shoulder.

“Where are you going?” He asks to lean against the doorframe.

“Is it okay if I go to Rehma’s? We have homework and a project to do…” Lilah lied.

“You just go home from school…”

“I know, but she's freaking out about everything. Mrs. Pike is kicking our ass lately with everything.

“Yeah, just be home before-”

“Thanks, dad!” Lilah quickly walks up to Frankie kissing him on the cheek and bolts out the door.

“-Sunset!”

“Got it! Bye love you!” She called out. Lilah was standing outside her house. She pulls out her phone, looking in her notes for your address she took down in her notes.

“Alright, Smiles… Where do you live?”

...

You spent Valentine's day alone, curled up on the couch, a pile of junk food around you, watching your favorite romantic comedies. You were doing the same thing three days later. You were wearing pajamas, your hair disheveled, your eyes still puffy from crying. It has been a terrible week so far.

You avoid thinking about everything, just wanting to take time to do absolutely nothing and veg out.

You were eating ice cream from the carton when you heard your doorbell ring. You didn’t bother to get up and answer it. You just wanted to be left alone. The ringing became persistent. You groaned, setting the carton down on the couch and getting up to answer the door.

You open the door to find a letter on the ground with your name on it. You pick up the letter opening it.

Frontier Park @ 5:00 pm

You look up, scanning the neighborhood, there was no one around. Who could this be from? Alex? Maybe Santiago...Frankie?

You went back inside your house, checking the time. It was 3:45, almost noon. You looked at our messy living room. Maybe you should get out. You’ve been cooped up in the house for too long. You needed some fresh air and gained back a clear and unclouded mind.

…

You got changed and headed to the park. It was a nice day, with a slight cool breeze. You sat on the bench and overlooked the pond. You sat there admiring the beautiful flowers and the cute ducks that swam on the pond.

From the corner of your eye, you see someone walking towards you. It was a young girl. As she gets closer to you, you realize who she was. You stand up as she approaches you.

“H-hi…” she stutters, stopping in front of you. “I’m-”

“Lilah” you gasp. You couldn't help but smile. She looked just like Frankie. You couldn’t believe she was standing in front of you.

You extend your hand out, introducing yourself. You both sat down on the bench.

“I can’t believe I’m meeting you right now…” Lilah says in a bit of shock.

“I can’t believe I’m meeting you either...I’m guessing you’re the one who left the letter at my doorstep. Are you alright? Did something happen? Is Frankie okay?” You were concerned for her, Frankie even. You had no idea why you were meeting her, but if she needed anything, you were willing to help her.

Lilah smiled. You were just like Santiago in her eyes. You were concerned and caring just like him. “Yes, I am. Everythings fine, I’m fine...Dad’s... Sorta okay I guess…” she says awkwardly.

“I’m sorry ambush you like this-”

“No! It’s alright... I - Just- How did you find me? How do you even know who I am?” Had Frankie told her about you?

“Uncle Santiago…”

“Of course” you rolled your eyes, chuckling.

“I went to Uncle Santi’s house, he answered questions I had…I found your address in the junk drawer in his kitchen...I wanted to talk to you about you and my dad... Uncle Santiago to me everything…”

You stiffen. Why the hell would your cousin air out all your dirty laundry with Frankie out on his Daughter?

“My dad has an old Shoebox filled with old photos of the two of you hidden in the back of the hallway closet.” She pulled the shoebox out of her bag, handing it to you.

You take the lid off staring down at a stack of photos.

“I would catch him staring at them from time to time. I used to look through these photos without him knowing. I always wondered who you were. I knew you must have been someone important to him. My best was that you two dated, Uncle Santi, confirmed that, but I found Dad bringing it back out for the first time in a long time, about a month ago. He’s been different lately. He’s sad. He tries to hide it from me, acting like he’s fine, but I can see right through him.”

You shuffle through the photos, a sad smile on your face at the memories they brought back to you.

“I just wanted to apologize, I know what happened between you and my dad… I know I’m the cause-”

“No no no.” You shake your head, setting the photos down in the box between you, placing your hand on her back.

“Lilah, that wasn’t your fault. What happened between Frankie and I is between us. Your Dad needed to go after you, and I don’t blame him one bit for doing that, that would be selfish of me.”

“I wish he would have told you about me. I think it’s terrible that he left without saying anything. And all those years without knowing-”

“I wish he would have told me too, but what’s most important is that he has you. You’re all he needs”

“Yeah he does have me, but what he needs is you. You’re his missing piece to his puzzle. He could never love someone as much as he loves you and me.”

“Lilah…” You turn away from her, tears starting to form in your eyes at what she said.

“Look, I know you’re getting married a-and I know my dad hurt you, but I think you should be with him. You’re the love of his life...You’re the one that got aw-”

“Lilah!” You hear a man shout.

You see Frankie walking towards you both.

“Oh, shit” Lilah murmurs quickly standing, grabbing the shoe box, she had no time to hide away in her bag as well as you.

“Lilah!” He was angry. You quickly stand up

“Dad!-”

“Lilah what-” He stops talking, taken back by you standing beside his daughter.

“Smiles?” He furrowed his eyebrows at you confused. He turns his focus back on his daughter.

“Lilah, what the HELL are you doing?!”

“Dad, I-”

“You lied to me about where you were going?! You left your books at the house, I went over to Rehma’s, only for her parents to tell me you weren’t over there!”

“Dammit, I forgot to tell her the plan..” Lilah mumbled, closing her eyes.

“Lilah, what are you even doing?! And why are you here with my daughter?” He pointed at you. His eyes catch the box “Where did you get that?” he looks up at Lilah

“The hallways closet…I-I know about you and smiles…”

His chest heaves. “What is this?” He turns his attention towards you, staring at you tensely. “You are trying to get back at me for all the shit I did?! You really gotta drag my kid into this?!” he yelled.

“Frankie-” you tried to explain, but he wouldn’t let you speak

“I know I fuck up, but this is low! You don’t go meeting up with my kid and talk about our business! Why would you even-”

“I’m the one that asked them to meet me here!” Lilah spoke up.

“Lilah, how do you even know-”

“Uncle Santiago told me. He told me everything. Valentine's day when I told you I was a Rehma, I was at Uncle Santi’s house. I’ve known about the shoebox for years, Dad…”

He scoffs. “Of course he fucking did...Why are you here with smiles?”

“...I was…” Lilah looks down at the ground.

“You were what, Lilah?”

She sighed. “..I was trying to get them to take you back…”

“Oh god…” Frankie groans, rubbing his face.

“Dad, I’m-”

“Lilah! You can’t be serious right now!!!” he began to yell again.

“Dad, you're sad! I can see past the fake smiles and the facade you put up! I’ve seen the way you look at those photos! I thought I could-”

“You have absolutely NO right doing what you did!!! Lying to me, going behind my back, and getting involved in things you don’t understand and that are none of your business!!! You need to apologize to Smiles right now.”

Lilah turns to face you. “I’m sorry…” She whispers, you see the tears forming in her eyes.

“Go wait for me in the truck-”

“Dad-” she croaks.

“I said go wait in the truck. We’ll finish this conversation at home.” He says strictly.

Lilah listened to her father, quickly walking in the direction of the parking lot.

Frankie felt embarrassed and humiliated. He was angry with his daughter that she would put him in a situation like this.

“Frankie-”

“Don’t, Smiles...Just don’t.” He played his hands on his hips, his head hung low. He turns around, his back towards you. He stares off at the forest a few yards away.

“She meant well, Frankie…”

“Yeah, but nothing she does or planned on is going to change anything…” he chuckles.

“You’re still going to get married.” He turned to face you. He was crying.

It was the first time in a long while since you saw him cry. He bottled up his feelings, but he finally found his breaking point.

“I thought it was gonna be us you know. You were it for me. You were the one, but I fucked things up. I fucked things up so bad.” He cried, his eyes growing red. “I should have told you about Lilah. I should have never left you like that, the way that I did. I’ve regretted it every day. We’d probably still be together. A-and now you’re about to get hitched to someone that isn’t me in a couple of days.That should me! I should be the one waiting to see you walk down that aisle, that should be me you’re walking towards, not Alex…”

You hadn’t realized you were crying.

“I’m gonna have to live with that for the rest of my life.”

“Frankie..” you breathed. He walked up towards you, grabbing your side of your face, passionately kissing you. The kiss was desperate, he pulled you closer to him. He needed to kiss you one last time. You both pull away breathless, but he sneaks a few more short kisses before you both rest your foreheads against each other.

“I love you so much, Smiles... I’m sorry for everything.” With that, he pulls away from your grasp, walking away.

He leaves you standing alone.

Tags // @icanbeyourjedi  @im-an-adult-ish  @sara-alonso @lydiascottage @eternalkara​

[subterfugespecialist]

I Will Break What Has Broken You

Janus is the heir of a millionaire CEO. He could have anything, anybody he wanted. And he picked Remus. Remus couldn't be happier with what they have. But when they're out one night and Remus runs into his ex, all the unpleasant memories start flooding back.

Written for Day 4 of @dukeceitweek : Free day

AO3 link

Pairing: Dukeceit

Warnings: Past verbal/emotional abuse, deadnaming - though the deadname is not actually typed out, unwanted advances

Word count: 2861

People were usually surprised to hear that Janus was dating Remus.

Janus - the son of old money, an heir to a multi-million dollar business - could have anything and anyone he wanted. All sorts of people threw themselves at his feet, desperate for both his sharp looks and good fortunes.

But Janus didn't want anybody. He wanted Remus. And that sure made Remus feel special.

Janus had been wary about dating. So many people had been after his family's money, after all. But then he met Remus, who didn't care that Janus could afford to buy the movie theater and still insisted their first date be sneaking into as many movies as possible because it was "more fun that way." He didn't care what kind of car Janus drove as long as Remus could drag Janus into the backseat. Who didn't care how many houses Janus owned, as long as they were together. Remus, who looked past his money and liked Janus for his catty, smart personality.

And Janus was utterly taken.

But sure, Janus having money certainly had its perks. Janus would indulge on any random impulse Remus had. Wanted to drop everything and go on a trip without anyone? Janus would treat him to a private jet (Remus was pretty sure they were the top members of the mile-high club at that point). Had the urge to rent a room in the fanciest hotel in Paris just to smoke weed? Sure. Paying for Remus' top surgery? Remus didn't even have to ask for that one. Janus making his birthday present to Roman paying off his entire student loans for his musical theatre degree? Remus was just smitten.

But one of the best parts was getting to be Janus' plus one at parties, where he'd wear his torn up pants with a hole showing his entire thigh and a neon green mesh shirt under his leather jacket. Security guards would try to escort him out before Janus would take him by the hand and kiss his forehead. He would introduce guests to Remus as his boyfriend and they would always do a double-take. Because that must be some sort of joke, right? Janus dating this man? But Janus would take Remus firmly by the waist and glare at them, daring them to actually say anything. And they would put on their pained smiles and complete their pleasantries before rushing off.

They couldn't be happier.

Tonight they were in a sort of underground club in New York. The music was so loud you could hardly hear yourself speak, and most people there this late in the night were too intoxicated to be coherent.

It was one of Remus' favorite places.

Remus was dancing with Janus, which mostly meant Remus dancing as Janus held onto him, occasionally spinning him around or pulling him close. But Remus didn't mind. How could he when Janus would watch him with such eyes, that made Remus feel so wanted?

Janus pulled his phone out of his pocket and scowled at the glowing screen as he pulled Remus close to him.

"I'm afraid I have to take this, darling," he said right against Remus' ear. "I'll have to step outside for a moment."

"That's fine," Remus yelled back. "I'll meet you at the bar, babes."

Janus pulled Remus into a searing kiss that would usually be considered too heat to be appropriate for public spaces, but with all the couples dirty dancing against each other around them it hardly mattered.

"I'll be back soon" Janus promised before slipping away into the crowd. Remus stood, smiling like a fool for a moment before heading towards the bar. The music was slightly quieter here, and Remus could actually hear himself think.

He hopped onto a barstool, spinning once before glancing at the drinks menu. Then someone sat beside him.

"I'm really not surprised to see you here."

Remus froze as his blood turned to ice. He had to force himself to look to see that, yes, it was him sitting on the barstool.

"I would have thought Janus would be with you," Remus' ex said as he sipped his drink. "I'm surprised he trusted his little plaything to go out on his own."

"How the fuck do you know about me and Janus?" Remus asked, hands gripping the edge of his barstool and making his knuckles go white. "Have you been stalking me like a creep? Just couldn't let me go, Aiden?"

"Baby, the whole business world has been talking about it," Aiden said with a smirk, unaware, or perfectly aware, of how the old nickname made bile rise in Remus throat, "It's some of the best gossip right now. Though I personally thought Janus was above spending his time on such things."

"It's so funny that you think you know Janus," Remus said with a grin that was far too wide. "You don't know shit about him."

"I've worked with him before, babe," Aiden said. "He is much too dedicated to his work to bother with someone like you."

Remus' blood was boiling, and he couldn't figure out why. He never cared before what people thought of him. He usually liked surprising people with Janus. So why did it hurt when Aiden said it?

Was it because they used to be together? Was it because Remus used to try so desperately to get the approval of his partner, but never seemed to obtain it? And it seems like he still hadn't.

"That's a nice skirt you're wearing," Aiden said, breaking Remus from his thoughts and making him realize he hadn't said anything for a good minute, "I thought you'd avoid those, given your... situation."

Remus had finally reached a point where he felt comfortable in a skirt, even after all the things Aiden said to him. But now he just felt exposed. It felt so good, when Janus rested a hand on his knee when they sat or gripped the back of his bare thigh as they pulled each other close. But now, all he wanted was to close his legs and pull the edge of his skirt over his knees.

"I like wearing skirts," Remus defended, though he didn't know how effective he was with the tremor in his voice.

How could Aiden keep making him feel worse? Digging deep into old wounds, breaking newly healed scars. Remus took a deep breath. He wasn't going to let Aiden ruin all of his progress after they had been apart for nearly two years.

"Well then," Aiden said in a voice that instantly made Remus worried. He then placed his hand on Remus' knee and he was very much not Janus and Remus suddenly felt like he was going to throw up. "Since Janus isn't here, how about we relive some old times, huh ******?"

Hearing his dead name immediately made Remus feel like the floor was taken from under him. He stood without another word and forced his way through the dense crowd on the dance floor. The bright lights and loud music were suddenly too much and Remus couldn't breath his chest wouldn't move he was suffocating-

He finally reached the emergency fire exit, which he knew the alarm didn't work because he had seen couples use it to sneak out for quickies. Once outside he immediately fell to his knees, hands resting on the asphalt, struggling to breath as the door shut behind him. He managed to crawl over to sit against the wall through short gasps of hair. Remus held his head in his hands and gripped his hair tight. Memories were flooding back - none of them pleasant.

His chest was too heavy. He couldn't get his lungs to work right he couldn't get air he was going to pass out right here in the alleyway-

"Remus!"

Janus.

"Oh, darling, it's okay," Janus said, panicked as he sat across from his boyfriend. He opened his arms and Remus immediately flung himself against him, gripping tightly to the back of Janus' jacket like a life line.

"Follow my breathing, love," Janus said softly into Remus' ear, chest pressed against the other making it easier for Remus to follow.

Remus focused on the feeling of Janus against him, around him. Janus' chest moving against his own, his voice and breath against his ear. Janus, Janus, Janus-

"There you go," Janus said softly as he pulled back just enough to look at Remus' face. Remus closed his eyes, focusing on Janus' hands resting on his cheeks, thumbs moving in soothing motions. "You did wonderfully."

"How'd you find me so fast?" Remus asked, "Knew I'd be out with trash, where I belong?" he forced out a laugh though tears fell down his face.

"Remus," Janus scolded.

"Sorry, sorry. No self deprecating, I know."

Though it had been a tough habit for Remus to break.

"You aren't trash," Janus muttered as he pushed Remus' hair out of his face. "You know I only indulge myself in the nicest things."

"How can you say that?" Remus muttered, glancing down to avoid Janus' gaze. "I'm far from nice."

"You are by far the most valuable, precious thing in my life," Janus said firmly as his hand moved to Remus' chin to force him to look in his eyes. "And I won't stand for you saying such things about yourself."

"You could have anything," Remus said, mouth quivering as tears fell freely down his face. "And yet you waste your time on me?"

"My time is never wasted with you. I'd give away all my fortune and luxuries that come with it if it meant spending just one more day with you."

"Why?"

"Because I love you, and all your craziness and curiosities. You are the most incredible person I've ever met and you only ever make me happier than I've ever been."

Janus wiped the tears off Remus' face, and no more followed.

"I love you so much," he whispered. "And you are deserving of everything good thing in this world"

"You sap," Remus said as he lightly punched Janus' arm, tears threatening to spill again - but not from sadness, "I love you, too."

"Are you feeling okay, my love?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I am. Sorry about that freakout."

"You don't have to apologize," Janus said as he ran his hand back over Remus cheek and pressed their foreheads together, "But who did that to you? push such unfounded doubts in your head? Because I do have to find them now, and ruin their life."

Remus groaned and leaned back, hitting the brick wall behind him. "Do you remember, a couple months after we started dating, I had that freakout and thought we needed to break up?"

"Yes," Janus said, a touch of bitterness in his voice. "You had the insane idea that you weren't good enough, and I made sure you knew that was not true. You're not feeling like that again, are you?"

"No. Well, I was, but- Okay so remember how I admitted that was because of my ex? Well, he's here. He talked to me."

Janus' expression quickly turned into one of fury, eyes turning dark as his mouth set into a scowl.

"He called me your plaything. Said he worked with you and that he knew you were too good for me. Then he touched me and said my dead name and came onto me and that made me feel so gross because he wasn't you and all these shitty feelings came back and just. Yeah. It was fucked up."

"Give me his name," Janus nearly growled. "I'll make sure he regrets every decision he ever made."

"Aiden Scott."

"Scott, Scott..." Janus muttered to himself, pondering for a moment before his eyes widened.

"Aiden Scott? He said- Working? With me? oh dear," Janus laughed as he stood, hand outstretched for Remus to take. "Come on, my darling," Janus said with a large smirk. "We have some things we need to straighten out."

Remus let Janus pull him up, but the thought of going to see Aiden again was making him feel sick. His nerves were dampened, however, by the strong grip Janus had around his waist as Remus led him over to the bar.

"Aiden Scott," Janus announced. When Aiden looked over his face paled as he glanced between them, "What a chance, seeing you here."

"Hello, Janus, sir," Aiden managed to say as he stood, outstretching a hand for Janus to shake. Janus glanced at it before looking back up and pulling Remus closer to his side.

"I heard what you said to Remus," Janus said, leaning against the bar and examining his manicure. "And I can't tolerate such things, Aiden."

"Oh, that?" Aiden let out a forced laugh to accompany the anxious smile on his face, "I was just messing with him. Like we used to, right?" Aiden cast Remus a desperate look, and Remus couldn't believe the absolute gall of this douchebag.

"Cut the bullshit," Janus snapped, saving Remus from having to say something, "You knew you shouldn't and yet you still had the nerve to speak to him that way, and you had the audacity to claim you knew me. Please. You had the privilege of standing in the same room as me. I would say you're nothing but an over-glorified secretary, but I actually like my secretary. It would be an insult to her hard work."

"Sir, I'm sorry. I just-"

"I don't care about your apology. Do you accept his apology, darling?" Janus asked, casting Remus a soft look.

"Nah."

Janus' soft look fell as he turned his attention back to Aiden, and Remus probably found the immediate shift in tone hotter than he should've - but he really didn't care.

"I could easily have you fired. I could make sure you never find another job with any of our companies ever again."

"No, sir, please, I-"

"But I don't think I will," Janus said, surprising both Remus and Aiden. "I want to keep my eye on you. I want to make sure you don't take a single step out of line again. You can keep your lowly job in the office, right where I can keep careful watch.

"I don't want you here at this club again. I don't want you anywhere in the near vicinity of Remus. If you know what's good for you, you'll stay the hell away."

"Yes, sir. Of course. Thank-"

"Get out."

"You won't regret not firing me, sir. I'll-"

"Get out."

Remus let out a loud cackle at the way Aiden turned and ran towards the front door, stumbling over his feet through the crowd. Remus was flooded with relief from the promise that that asshole would never bother him again.

He looked over to Janus, who was still wearing that stone-angry look on his face as he straightened his hat, gaze following Aiden to make sure he actually left. Janus then turned to look at Remus, and his face changed back into one of reverence and comfort. Remus was filled with such overwhelming emotions he had no control over his body as he grabbed Janus' hands and pulled him towards the back.

Janus let Remus pull in into the single stall bathroom. Remus slammed the door behind them before pulling Janus to him, burying his head into the crook of Janus' neck and holding him tight. Maybe if he squeezed Janus hard enough, he could show him just how much Janus meant to him.

"Hey now, love, it's alright," Janus said, voice much clearer now that the loud music was dulled behind the door.

"No, I'm fine," Remus laughed into his neck, "Fuck, babe, you were incredible."

"Anything for you, my darling," Janus said as he pressed a kiss to the top of Remus' head.

"But why didn't you fire him?" Remus asked as he pulled away to look at Janus' face.

"I figured letting him go would be too easy - over too quickly. Now he gets to deal with me hovering over his shoulder for as long as he can handle it.

"Which won't be long. I'll make him regret everything he ever did to you."

Remus was so overwhelmed with love for the man in front of him - a man who actually loved him for who he was - that he couldn't stop himself from throwing his arms around Janus' neck and dragging him down into a kiss.

"I'm glad you're feeling better," Janus leaned away with a light chuckle, but Remus immediately reconnected their mouths.

Janus placed one hand securely on the back of Remus' neck, the other cupping his cheek. Remus leaned back into the hand, tilting his head up and letting Janus deepen the kiss. He let himself go pliant under Janus' lips, Janus' grasp. He was completely content to give all his trust to this man. After all Janus had done for him, hasn't he deserved it?

Janus pulled away again, and this time Remus let him go.

"Should we go back to the dance floor? You looked so happy there. If you're feeling okay enough, that is."

And with Janus' arm wrapped snugly around him, Remus found that yeah, he was.

.

.

If you are 18+ and have your age/age indicator in your bio, you can message me for the NSFS sequel that takes place directly after

Thanks for reading! Requests are open in my inbox. Hope you enjoyed <3

[thatmultifandomhoe]

Knitting You a Home - 3

Pairing: Wolf Hybrid Namjoon and Human Reader

Word Count: 4.7k

Genre/Rating: Hybrid AU - Established Relationship - Angst - Fluff - Smut - PG-13

Overview: Things have changed for you and Namjoon. It’s been a year since the two of you got together, and despite a rocky start, it was impossible to deny the bond and love you shared for each other. But ever since Hoseok had been separated from his Mate, Namjoon has been withdrawing himself from you and doesn’t come home until late at night.

With questions far larger than either of you imagined, you can’t help but wonder if he’s let his past and old fears come back to haunt him. You had shown him that it was possible to have a home and be loved once before, but will you be able to do it again?

Warning: Implied abuse from previous owners.

Playlist:

Main Master List:

Knitting You a Home Master List:

Mated Love is Never Easy Master List:

Sneak Peak - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13 - Part 14 - Part 15 - ?

©thatmultifandomhoe Do not repost, translate, or use my stories without permission.

Namjoon groaned as he stood from his desk chair, the cracking of his back echoing the small room. The moment he had come back from visiting you at work was probably the last time he had moved, and that had been hours ago.

He knew that if you were here, you’d probably scold him for sitting for so long until he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you onto his lap. He could picture you struggling for a few moments and try to reclaim your argument, but all it would take was him nuzzling your neck for you to melt in his embrace.

The daydream, like always, brought a smile to Namjoon’s face. He wasn’t sure when the last time you came to visit him at work was, but he was willing to bet that Ma wouldn’t mind watching over the store for you to do so either.

Although…with a glance around his studio, his lips curled into a smirk as he stared at the couch he had against the wall near the door. It was question on whether or not work would get done then.

Rolling his neck, he stretched an arm above his head and held it for a few seconds before doing the same to the other. It was another late night for him and Yoongi. The rapper they were working with had decided that he no longer liked the vibe of one of the songs, so they were forced to scrap it as the artist worked on finding his, ‘muse’ as he told them. Until they had a new version, they were busy finishing up the other tracks in the time being.

After hearing every version of all twelve songs, he knew them all by heart at this point. Which was probably why when someone knocked on his door, he didn’t hesitate to lean over the desk and pause the music, calling out for them to come in.

“What’s up Yoongi?” Namjoon asked, smelling his friend’s familiar scent as he entered.

Yoongi grunted, the door shutting behind him on its own as Namjoon straightened up, turning around in time to see his friend lounging out on the couch, his cat tail lazily hanging over the edge.

“I’ve been up since four,” the cat hybrid murmured, his eyes slowly looking around the room.

Not surprising, Namjoon thought. With a twist of his hand, he turned the chair around to face Yoongi and sat back down, stretching his long legs out in front of him. “Then go home. There’s not much left for us tonight.”

Yoongi finally looked up at his friend. “Yet we’re still here at…” He glanced behind Namjoon to see the time on the computer. “…midnight.”

Raising an eyebrow, Namjoon glanced at the watch around his wrist, startled to see that it was as late as Yoongi said. By now you’d be in bed, hopefully sleeping, but he knew that you wouldn’t be able to fall asleep until he got home safely.

“Go home,” Yoongi suggested, seeing the flash of disappointment on Namjoon’s face. “You’re the one with a wife at home. Go be with her Joon.”

At the mention of you, he sharply inhaled, suddenly shifting in his chair and turning sideways so he could see the computer screen. However, next to his computer was a picture of you and him.

He was sitting on the couch with you in-between his legs, his arms wrapped around your waist to keep you close as you held your arm out to take the selfie, all while holding up the official adoption document in your other hand. The two of you were smiling and at the time, the right side of your neck hadn’t been marked yet.

It was one of his favorite pictures, one of the happiest days of his life, but it also served as a reminder of the dreams that he had taken away from you.

“Angel’s not my wife,” Namjoon softly corrected, his favorite nickname for you soothing his emotions for a brief moment.

The atmosphere in the studio immediately shifted. The easy and slightly stressed out tension dropped as Namjoon’s emotions slipped, changing to reflect on his sadness and disappointment. Usually he had a tight grip on his feelings when his friends were around, but this time, he didn’t care enough to reign them back in right away.

Yoongi’s ears pressed down to his skull, his tail swaying back in forth in distraught as Namjoon’s emotions washed over him. It was nowhere near as bad as when Hoseok grieved over being separated from Sarah, but it was close enough to remind Yoongi of that.

“Is she okay?” Yoongi sat up, wondering if you had been hurt in any way. If that were the case, then why was Namjoon here? His instincts wouldn’t have let him leave you while his mate was hurt.

Namjoon nodded, taking the pencil that had been laying on the desk. “She’s fine.”

“Then what’s…” Frowning, Yoongi’s tail lightly hit his leg as he thought, trying to understand the sudden turn in events. In the last year, the only time he recalled Namjoon being withdrawn, was when they first met. All Yoongi had said was to go home and be with…his wife.

“Namjoon,” he gently called out, watching as the wolf Hybrid refused to look at him. “She’s your Mate. It’s the same thing.”

“No, it’s not,” Namjoon bitterly said, lightly tossing the pencil back on to his desk, watching it bounce a few times before landing on the floor. Staring at the photograph, at your unmarked neck, his eyes watered up. “Angel will never be my wife, Yoongi. She’ll only ever be my owner.”

Running a hand through his hair, Yoongi clenched his jaw, trying to not let Namjoon’s emotions distract him. He took a deep breath, refusing to be suffocated by the guilt and frustration his friend felt. “We’re Hybrids, Namjoon. In our world she is your Mate. She bears your Mate Mark. Angel is, to use the human’s term, your wife.”

A whine ripped through Namjoon as he turned to look at his friend, feeling Yoongi’s own disappointment and pain as a result of his own emotions. Yoongi just didn’t understand it.

“No.” He simply said, shaking his head. “The humans will never see us as husband and wife. One request to see my adoption papers is all that it’ll take for them to make up their minds once they see her name. They might humor us and say we’re Mates, but to them, she’ll always be my owner. I’ll never be able to call her my wife and be taken seriously.”

Yoongi stared at his friend, blown away at the sudden anger that swirled around him. He had known that this bothered Namjoon, but never in a million years did he think that it was kept locked up deep inside him.

Despite the law changes in the last twenty years, Hybrids had more rights now than when they were first created. But for some reason, humans never did away with the law denying marriage between a Hybrid and their owner, even when lawmakers knew that it was a common occurrence.

Apparently, a Hybrid marrying their owner was seen as, inhumane.

Even with that one law, it typically didn’t matter what the humans thought, as long as the Mate bore the Mate Mark, then they were a married couple in Hybrid society. The mark served as not only a physical declaration, but the mate’s scent would no longer be just theirs, but a mix of their own and who had marked them, announcing to every Hybrid in the area that they were together.

A wedding was simply done for the human’s benefit.

Namjoon knew all this. So why was he refusing to listen to facts?

Licking his lips, Yoongi remembered a similar reaction coming from Namjoon, back when it was winter and the two of them had been walking with Hoseok to Sarah’s shop, when they had forgotten about the laws.

“Is this all because of last winter?” He asked, knowing that it was true when Namjoon’s ears rested on his head. “Joon, why? Why are you dwelling on that?”

He shook his head. It was stupid and Yoongi was right. You were his Mate and that meant more to Namjoon than anything in the world. But it riddled him with guilt because he would never be able to give you what you wanted.

“I’m still part human,” he simply answered, staring at the floor. “I’m not just some animal like they want to think.”

There was no doubt about that. Every Hybrid was still half human, and even with the laws that had been created to protect them from abusers, there were still people who were prejudice against them simply because their DNA wasn’t one hundred percent human. It was something that every Hybrid dealt with at some point in their life. There was no getting around it, unless by some miracle you were raised within a home with purely kind humans. That was a rarity, but after seeing you and Namjoon together, and then Hoseok and his Mate, it gave Yoongi hope that the future generation wouldn’t have to suffer like they had.

Namjoon roughly wiped his eyes, forcing back the tears so that they wouldn’t slip out. Now that he had spoken his piece, he began to collect his emotions, hating that he had let them out in the first place.

Standing up, Yoongi silently walked across the floor and to Namjoon’s desk, opening the drawer on the left-hand side. Inside was a notebook, battered from use and if Yoongi were to flip through the pages, he’d find Namjoon’s delicate handwriting filling the pages. Lines crossed out and rewritten. Some underlined and with coffee stains or doodles in the corner.

He waited for Namjoon to take the journal before speaking again. “Then write it out. Take all the fucked-up crap the humans’ dish out about us, and serve it back to them. Make them regret everything they’ve said and done to us, but Namjoon…don’t you ever forget that you have a Mate back home who loves, and we both know she waits up for you to come home.”

The notebook fit perfectly in Namjoon’s hands. It had been a gift from you in the early days, not even a week after he came to stay with you and it became clear that he was incapable of sleeping through an entire night, without having nightmares.

“Write.” You said, gently smiling at Namjoon.

He took the notebook from you. It was simple with a brown moleskin cover and a spiral ring to make it easier to turn the pages. “Write what?” He asked, turning it over in his hands as if it would reveal the reason for why you gave him this.

You shrugged. “Whatever you want. It’s yours now. Notes about your day, ideas, thoughts that you want to remember. Hell, you can even write a grocery list if you want. I saw it while at the store and thought…well I thought if you wrote in it, it might help you to sleep at night.”

As you explained, he looked up from the journal to watch your reaction, seeing that you were being genuine. Your emotions were nothing but kind and wanting to help him, and it surprised him. You were different from the others, and he couldn’t help but wonder why.

But he didn’t get the chance to ask. Instead you glanced at the kitchen with a smile, getting out of your seat. “I can smell the cookies baking from here. They should be done soon, but I wanted to give you this before you went back to your room for the night.”

And write, he did.

It took some time for him to feel comfortable writing about the nightmares that plagued him, the memories that were so realistic he tasted the blood building up in his mouth when he abruptly woke up in the middle of the night.

He had tired documenting his memories, but each attempt had been painful and felt wrong. It wasn’t until he began to write songs that everything fell in to place. Growing up, he had attempted songwriting as a way to cope with his life, and he thought the habit had long since been forgotten over the years, but it came back to him like he never stopped.

The lyrics, the beats and melodies he found himself hearing in his mind and tapping out on the flat surfaces were coming to him like water drifting in a river.

“Go home,” Yoongi encouraged once again. “Go home to her. Go to bed. I’ll finish up listening to the songs and make sure everything’s set for tomorrow. Okay?”

There was no more arguing with Yoongi. He was right. Sleep and holding you close was what Namjoon needed, and with how his visit had gone at the store this afternoon, he knew you needed it too. With a nod, he stood up from his chair, watching Yoongi settle into it and scoot closer to the desk.

The conversation wasn’t over though. Maybe just for tonight, but they both knew that it would come up again whether they wanted it to or not. This wasn’t something that could be buried forever. For right now, they were both willing to cover it up until they weren’t exhausted and emotional.

“Thanks Yoongi,” Namjoon slipped his bag over his shoulder, stealing a glance at the photograph once more.

Yoongi merely waved it away, his tail waving back and forth. “Don’t worry about it. Get some sleep for both of us.”

He watched as Namjoon left, and even then, he didn’t turn back to the computer until he could no longer hear his footsteps. With a shake of his head, Yoongi sighed as he stared at the same photograph.

He wondered if Namjoon knew that back then, even without you having his Mate Mark, they looked like a couple in love. That even back then, they were always destined for each other. Whether the laws wanted to accept them or not.

The world passed by Namjoon, although there wasn’t much of it to see at this hour. Besides the bus driver, he was the only passenger which wasn’t uncommon. Many nights he wanted to tell you about the people he saw on the bus only to have wait until morning when you were awake, settling for scribbling reminders into his notebook.

The lack of passengers never bothered him. The quiet was actually comforting to him after listening to music all day, the silence allowed his mind to wander as he watched people through the window. Tonight however, he was focused on the flyer he held.

Chewing on his bottom lip, he wasn’t too surprised that this had been on the bulletin board, but the fact that he had discovered it under the hundred other posters was a miracle in itself. The thin white flyer was advertising an underground rap battle taking place at the Lotus.

He had been to Lotus a few times with you, but he wasn’t able to recall where exactly a rap battle would be able to place. The last time he was there, bodies had been pressed against each other as strobe lights bounced off of jewelry and exposed skin, recalling how you were lit up in blues and pinks while you danced against his front with a drink in a free hand, the music thumping in his ears as he stole sips from your glass.

Maybe there was a place for it. He had just been too preoccupied to look for it.

“Alright Namjoon, we’re here.”

Lifting his head, he was surprised to see that they were already at the last stop for the bus. “Thanks Jerry, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Son, don’t you ever sleep?” Jerry turned in his seat to look back at Namjoon.

Namjoon simply grinned, folding the flyer in half and sticking it in his pocket as his tail bumped against one of the poles. “When wolves start sleeping at night I will.”

Jerry chuckled, waving as Namjoon exited the bus to begin the walk back home.

The bus stop was a twelve-minute walk from home and like with riding the bus, he enjoyed this time to himself. Besides you, the only company he needed was the one that nature provided all on its own. Crickets chirping in the grass, the fluttering of the tree leaves as birds and owls moved around. It was peaceful, and right now, that was what he wanted.

Deep down, he knew that Yoongi was right. That in their world, you were rightfully his wife, the Mate Mark simply taking place of a wedding ring. His heart knew it and so didn’t his soul, but his mind kept fighting it.

The human side of him knew that without a wedding certificate and wedding bands, society wouldn’t acknowledge him as your husband. They might lightly toss around the term Mate, but they would never mean it. To them, he was your Hybrid and nothing more.

Reaching for his phone in his other pocket, he slowly unwrapped the earbuds, slipping one in his ear while scrolling through his music. He would have put in the other, but the memory of you worrying that people might sneak up on him without hearing them came to mind and kept him from doing so. It had been adorable to see you so concern about him, and since he hadn’t had anyone to worry about him in the first place, he didn’t have the heart to tell you that his other set of ears would have picked up on the sound of twig snapping off in the distance.

What bothered him the most about all this, was that he had known. He had known since he first started living with you that you dreamed about one day marrying the love of your life. As he walked down the memorized path, his mind wandered back to that morning.

Namjoon’s ear flicked towards the closed bedroom door as he laid in bed, the blankets pulled up to his chin as he forced himself to remember where he was, like he has been for the last three days.

He had come to stay with you at your house due to the overcrowding at the Shelter, all the scents and noises had been too much for him. Your place was quiet, allowing him to uncoil and calm down.

The most important thing, was that he was safe here.

If memory served right, then today was the start of the weekend. Glancing at the clock that you had on the nightstand, he doubtfully looked back at the door and then back at the device, wondering if it was wrong. It was six in the morning.

From the bedroom he was able to hear low voices and the soft pap of your footsteps against the wooden floor. That was you alright. But why you were awake? Weren’t weekends meant to be used for sleeping in?

Sitting upright, he ran a hand through his hair, his other hand clenching the blankets as he scanned the room once again. Did this mean you were expecting him to be up too? You had been nothing but nice to him since the night of the storm, but he knew how things have a habit of not being what they seem. It had been three days and already you exceeded his expectations of him staying with you.

It was like…you enjoyed his company.

His thoughts were interrupted by a sudden buzzing, your hurried footsteps echoing this time instead of being quiet. He waited with bated breath, at first thinking that you had been running to the guest bedroom that you told him he could stay in, but there was nothing but silence right outside his door.

Namjoon pushed back the blankets and stood up, making sure to smooth out the blankets and pillows so that they appeared undisturbed, leaving the room once he was satisfied. He was curious as to what was happening, but he hadn’t been expecting the smells to hit him.

The rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled his senses as a sweet tart had his mouthwatering. Without thinking, he followed the smells to where it opened up into the living room and kitchen, spotting you by the counter. Next to him, the TV was on to a show with women wearing white dresses, the volume turned down to low so it didn’t travel down the hall to the bedrooms.

His footsteps were silent as he entered the kitchen, curiously watching you plate the large muffins onto a glass plate. In front of you was a light blue mug with steam wafting up from it. With a deep inhale, he realized these were the things he had been smelling.

As if you had been expecting him, you turned to look at Namjoon, gently smiling as you plated the last muffin. “I’d thought you be sleeping for a while,” you spoke, setting the empty tray back on top of some potholders he hadn’t noticed.

Namjoon didn’t speak, and apparently, you didn’t mind. “I’m so used to getting up early that it’s hard to sleep in sometimes. So, I tend to do a lot of baking in the morning to have something to do.”

You reached up to brush a loose strand of hair back, automatically patting the back of your hair to make sure that it hadn’t fallen out of the messy bun you threw it up in. Still dressed in bed clothes, an oversized shirt that was tied at the side and a pair of thin pajama pants, you took one of the small plates and set a blueberry muffin on it, handing it to Namjoon.

He raised an eyebrow in surprise, hesitating to take it.

But you waited, and after a few minutes, he carefully took the plate.

“They just came out of the oven so they’re hot,” you reminded, pointing at the butter and the knife on the table. “I recommend cutting it in half and spreading some butter on them, they taste so good.”

Namjoon didn’t move.

With a lick of your lips, he saw the emotions in your eyes waver as you made your own plate and went to the table, doing exactly what you had suggested he do. He knew that you were holding your emotions in check for him, but he didn’t say anything as he started to copy your movements. At the sight of the butter melting on the hot muffin, his stomach growled, making his cheeks flush in embarrassment.

“There’s more than enough if you want a second,” you gently encouraged. He didn’t even need to look up to hear the smile in your voice.

The morning after the storm, trees had been knocked down so you had stayed home while the roads were getting cleared, claiming you didn’t want to get caught up in the cleanup. At lunch time you had knocked on his door to tell him that lunch was ready if he was hungry, and despite your promises that it was okay, he lingered at the hallway, unsure if you were sincere that he could not only just eat, but to enter the room. When he finally joined you at the table, he had sensed your shock at how little he had taken – barely enough to feed a small child – and again you encouraged him to eat as much as he wanted.

He never said it, but he had heard crying coming from your room that night. His ears had flattened against his skull at the muffled sound of your sadness, feeling a wave of the emotions you were experiencing. You may not have known what Namjoon had gone through, but you had begun to piece together the possibilities.

“Would you like some coffee too?”

Your voice had roused him from his thoughts, glancing up at you to see you pointing at the mug you had set on the table. Another sniff and he was nodding, watching you smile before going around him to get a second mug, this one a warm orange, and recreated the drink.

“Here you go,” you murmured, your smile growing as he accepted it without waiting.

He was hungry and for the first time, he was starting to feel okay with taking the things that you were giving him.

"I’m going to sit on the couch,” you explained, drinking your own coffee as you picked up your plate again. “You can join me if you want.” With that, you went into the living room, comfortably sitting down as you turned the volume up a little bit.

Namjoon didn’t join you right away. Instead, he readjusted the grip he had on the mug, and cautiously took a sip. Instantly the inside of his chest warmed up, the slightly bitter taste of the coffee beans waking up his mind that was still foggy from sleeping.

He stared at you from where he stood, awake but confused. Why were you being so polite, so kind to him? Was there something you wanted from him that he hadn’t been able to sense yet? Yet every time he tried to understand your emotions, he got nothing but unrelenting patience and happiness from you. He hadn’t even spoken to you yet, and you were happy he was here. At least, that’s what he was assuming from how you felt.

Making up his mind, he quietly sat on the other end of the couch with a seat in between you and him, gingerly taking a bit out of the blueberry muffin now that it wasn’t so hot it hurt. It was like heaven in fluffy bread that melted in his mouth, the blueberries bursting with sweetness and the occasional bitter taste.

On the TV, a woman said yes to a dress and her friends were screaming in happiness, capturing his attention as he tried to understand what was happening.

“They’re shopping for wedding dresses,” you explained, having seen the confused look on Namjoon’s face. “I’ve binge watched every episode for this show, I love seeing all the different gowns and weddings, gets me excited for the day that I get to go through this. But that won’t be for a long time.”

There was a longing in your voice that had peaked Namjoon’s interest, and as you explained, he noticed that your eyes had lit up with the unmentioned dream. He knew what marriage was and that humans didn’t always marry the right person, and while he didn’t really see the point in them, he hoped that one day you’d get to live out your dream.

You deserved it.

Namjoon winced as his shoes echoed in the silent entryway, snapping out of his memories when he sensed your steady heartbeat. It was with a start that he realized you were actually asleep, not just pretending to be like you usually did when he was this late.

It was good that you were asleep, but as he walked to the bedroom, guilt filled him at the thought of missing these quiet moments with you. Passing by the couch, he turned off the lamp that had been left on, enveloping the room in darkness.

He was already discarding his shirt when he entered the bedroom, tossing it in the hamper when he saw you. His body relaxed at the sight of you curled up under the blankets, your hair off of your neck to reveal your Mate mark. A soft growl came from him as he took his pants off, sliding under the blankets in just his underwear, too tired to bother pulling on a pair of sweat pants. Not that you would complain anyways.

On instinct, he curled his body around yours, wrapping an arm around your waist as he buried his face in your hair. Your scent of nutmeg and crisp apples was comforting him, the sound of your soft sigh and the way your body automatically curved backwards into his embrace even as you slept didn’t go unmissed by Namjoon.

With you in his arms, it was easy to push away the rest of the world, especially like this. But it also only served to remind him what he’d taken away from you.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, kissing the Mate mark, lips brushing against your skin with every word. “I’m sorry I can’t fix this baby. I’m so sorry Angel.”

[kyber-crystal]

➳ good enough || s.r.

summary: after a long week you’re left completely exhausted. steve comforts you and helps you unwind. 

words: ~1.6k 

warnings: slight mentions of violence, angst, angst-to-fluff, a lil friends-to-lovers (i’m SORRY literally all of my oneshots are some variation of this but i just can’t resist), minor age gap? (if you call 5 years a lot). also civil war happened but they resolved it so 2017 au teeheeeeee

a/n: this sucked omg. why is my writing going downhill. also this is a red-room-turned-agent-reader who helped steve adjust when he came out of the ice bc i love cliche love backstories hehe...i tried to be very descriptive here but that failed oops. this is prolly one of my worst fics ever (it’s unedited) but my other one got deleted so i’m uploading this in its place!

Steve knew something was wrong the minute you came back from your mission. You always acted a bit off the first few days following your return, but for some reason, today seemed different. For the past week you'd been blatantly avoiding his gaze, refusing to meet his eye unless forced to. 

You don’t even return Sam and Bucky’s sarcastic one-liners - and you always make sure to send a cheesy joke right back at them. It’s not typical for you to be so quiet and reserved like this; frankly, it scared him. 

He knows that as a former Red Room assassin, you never had it easy. As the youngest of the twenty-eight dancer-disguised warriors, you were merely eight years old when you were admitted (Natasha was thirteen). At eight, there was much you didn’t know. You were naive, easily shaped to conform to the strict rules they’d set out for you. 

But despite all the hell you’d gone through in the past, you managed to find it in your heart to forgive and create a compassionate nature towards others. Especially him. He always wondered what he deserved to get someone like you-- he felt more than lucky to have you in his life.

It was 4 a.m, and his insomnia was at its worst. It had peaked ever since he’d come out of the ice - he was 27, had so much of his life before him before it was abruptly put to a stop. But then he met you, with your warm eyes and kind smile that was such a sharp contrast to the girl you used to be. 

The sound of muffled shouts coming from across the compound makes him look up - he sets down his mug of coffee and immediately heads down the hall to see what’s going on. 

Steve carefully pushed open the glass doors to the training facility, seeing you standing in front of a punching bag and attacking the hell out of it with an almost murderous look in your eyes - one he’d never seen before. The tape around your knuckles were splattered with your crimson blood. Despite the dim lighting, he could see the outlines of fresh bruises all over your arms and shoulders. The sight made bile rise up in his throat. He felt his heart break.

Every heavy blow of your fists was accompanied by a ground-shaking boom that echoed across the gym, unleashing the monster trapped inside. You pick up the pace and increase your speed, channelling all your pent-up anger and frustration and guilt into what you were doing. 

It hurts. You would give anything to get rid of the pain. It hurts like hell, but you would trade living a regret-ridden life for a guilt-free one in a heartbeat if that’s what it takes. Besides, you’ve experienced far worse before-- six-inch knife wounds, bullets to the abdomen and upper arms, broken ribs and noses. This should be a walk in the park.

The concerned super-soldier stood several feet away and observed you, silently watching you murdering the poor punching bag that’s barely withholding all the fury you’ve poured into pummeling it; it was about to burst at the seams.

“Y/N.” You didn’t hear him and kept going, so he repeated himself again. “Y/N.”

“What?” you snapped, keeping your gaze trained in front of you. “What the hell do you want?”

“Shouldn’t you be in bed? It’s late. What’s keeping you up at this hour?”

“Nothing,” you replied plainly, but he caught the brief flash of a grief-stricken look cross over your expression and your eyes glaze over, “I’m fine. Leave me alone.”

“You clearly aren’t. Y/N, talk to me. Please.”

“I told you, I’m,” you increased the force of your fists with each word you spoke, as you felt your eyes stinging, “just, fine!”

“Y/N...” he whispered, so softly, as if he was afraid he’d break you with a single sentence. 

That was the last straw. The tears spilled over. Your vision began to blur as you didn’t even bother to wipe them away. The broad-shouldered super-soldier, your fists, and the punching bag and everything insight are turned into blurry, shapeless blobs. You try blinking them away but it was no use; but you keep going. 

“Please tell me what’s going on. Tell me what’s wrong...please don’t shut me out. I only want to help.”

“Leave me alone,” you repeated with a growl, arms now aching with the pain of a thousand tiny needles. But he doesn’t, and he stays firmly rooted in his place. You hastily wiped at your nose with your hands. “For gods’ sake, Rogers, leave,” smack “me,” smack “alone.”

Your last punch was so hard the walls shook and caused Steve to take a step back in alarm. But after that, all the fight is gone from you. Your knees buckle from underneath you and your shoulders slump in defeat and you crumble to the floor. A sound so raw and hoarse escapes your lips and it sounds nothing near human. 

The metallic scent of blood mixed with your salty tears and sweat overwhelms your senses and makes your head spin. Suddenly the act of taking in a single breath seems impossible and your chest tightens, preventing you from being able to breathe properly. 

The ever-so-fragile wall that had been struggling to hold your tears at bay finally broke. 

Heaving, wrenching sobs clawed their way up your throat and tore through your already weary heart - escaping in broken, agonized cries and heart-wrenching howls that make Steve feel like his heart is deliberately shattering into a million, tiny fragments of glass. He doesn’t know what to do because for the first time in his life, the woman he’s always seen with her head held high and an unmatched confidence that could almost put the President to shame was vulnerable, letting it all out at once. 

Steve doesn’t ask any questions nor does he push to to speak up, but silently comes over to you and wraps you into a tight hug, cradling you against his chest. Your arms find their way around his torso, pressing your forehead against the soft cotton of his T-shirt as his free hand makes a gentle trek up and down your back. 

As if you were a delicate flower, he carefully brought your head closer and pressed a kiss to your temple, letting his lips linger for a second longer than normal to reassure you. To reassure you that everything would in fact, be okay. Because he was there.

“Don’t leave me...please don’t leave me,” you choked out as he tightened his hold on you. “Please don’t leave.”

“I won’t, darling, I promise,” he cooed, lips brushing against your forehead, “it’s okay. I’m here. You’re okay, we’re okay. Everything’s gonna be just fine.”

Then, the suffocating pressure is eased off your chest, little by little. You began sinking into the comfort of his warm arms and soothing words. And with his reminder that you didn’t have to go through hell and back alone, because he’d be there, you began to heal. 

...

ONE YEAR LATER

“...Joining the Avengers has been one hell of a ride. I went through hell and back, had my fair share of ups and downs and fought in countless wars. But along the way I’ve been blessed with the privilege of getting a built-in second family and making some of the best friends I’ve had in my life. I met my soulmate.” Steve gazed down at you warmly as you spoke, “I honestly had no idea things would ever work out like this but now, I can’t imagine a life without knowing who all these amazing people are.

“It’s been 15 months since the day he saved me.” Everyone immediately fell silent. "I had hit a very, very low point in my life and I was just about ready to give up. It was like I was screaming into a void and nobody was there to catch me when I fell. I felt so helpless and lost. Stuck. If Steve hadn’t come along at the time he did...I don’t know what would’ve have happened instead. So, Steve...I want to thank you...for everything. I can’t even begin to list all the things you’ve sacrificed or done for my sake and I owe you. From this point forward I promise to always stick by your side no matter how rough things get. I promise to love you at your best and your worst; whenever you need me I’ll always be here. No amount of anything I do will ever match what you’ve done, but I can promise you this: I’ll love you until the day I die, ‘til death do us part.

“’Till death do us part,” Steve repeated, smiling through the tears in his eyes. “God, I love you.”

You broke into a gorgeous grin that had him weak at the knees.  “I love you too.”

“The rings, please,” Fury nodded over in Peter’s direction, and the teenager handed them over to the two of you. “Agent Y/N Y/L/N, do you take Captain Steven Grant Rogers to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

“I do,” you said softly, as you put on Steve’s ring.

He turned to the super-soldier. “And Captain Steven Grant Rogers, do you take Agent Y/N Y/L/N to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

Steve took your hand in his and slid the diamond ring over your finger, “I do.”

“Very well, then,” Fury smiled widely, a rare sight. “You may now kiss your bride.”

Without a moment’s hesitation, Steve rushed forward and pulled you close, dipping you down low before bringing you back up and kissing you passionately. 

His warm lips serving as a reminder of all that you still had left to live for, that you had so much of your life ahead of you. A life with him.

...

general tags(this is from my old taglist spreadsheet, including mutuals who might be interested): @rynhaswritersblock @purpleskiesstorm @pies-writes-and-more @wxstedhexrt @captainchrisstan @sandystoriess @naomiiiiiiiiiii04 @patzammit @capcapcapsicle @wheresmyjae @thinkingofbuckybarnes @carryonmywaywardbucky @musicalkeys @buckybarnesthehotshot @tombob2005 @zaddychris @optimistic-dinosaur-nacho @sylvie-writes @sis-it-dont-add-up @tonystankschild​ @sunstalgia​

steve rogers/chris evans tags: @speechlessxx @angrybirdcr @stainedsouvenir @marvelfanatic16

permanent tags<3: @poesflygirl @sandwitch-god

[firefly464]

The Real World - Chapter 4

Uhhh so I may have gotten a bit carried away writing this chapter... Oh well! I had lots of fun writing it :D

Made in collaboration with @i-have-this-now

Master Post

First - Previous - Next

~~~

Tommy stared out the window of his small wooden shack. He had been relocated from the broken down van to a new, hastily put together room in the corner of L’manberg. Everyone had figured that the van was due to collapse at any second, and they didn’t exactly want the teenager in there when it did. After all, it wasn’t like he could just go back to his own base. That was directly in the middle of the Dream SMP. Going back there would be like signing a death warrant. 

He understood his friends thought process, he really did. But just because he understood it didn’t mean he was happy about it. Ever since he arrived in this strange world, the broken down van had been his home away from home. He knew that just being in it was dangerous, but that didn’t really matter. It was important to him. He was just glad they hadn’t forced him to stay in the underground bunker with everyone else. 

He sighed as he stared up at the night sky. What time was it now anyways. 2am? Maybe 3? Didn’t really matter either way. His mind was too full for sleep. He kept thinking about his home. His real home. He thought about his family and friends. He thought about his dogs, his favorite foods. How long had it been since he last slept in his own bed? Since he had eaten something that wasn’t just bread and steak? 

A tear slid down his face. He wanted to go home… But he had no idea how he had even gotten to this world, much less how to get out. Hell, there wasn’t even anyone who he could talk to about it. Unless…

A thought crossed his mind. He recalled how Dream had acted during the duel, in the seconds before he had lost consciousness. He had screamed and ran over to his side, as if trying to check on him. It was something that didn’t match up with the stories tubbo had told him. Whenever Tubbo had brought up Dream, his eyes filled with genuine anger and hatred. He spoke of a ruthless man who had destroyed their lives. A man who wasted no time in attempting to blow them all up. A man who had laid down explosives just to prove a point. It was a story that just hadn’t made sense to Tommy. 

Dream was a nice guy, and a friend. Sure he would tease and poke fun, but that didn’t change the fact that he meant well. It also didn’t make sense with what he had seen. After the duel, Tommy hadn’t seen Dream at all. If the stories Tubbo told were true, then it would have made sense for him to attack while he was unconscious or wounded. 

Maybe… Maybe Dream was connected to what was happening to him? He knew that it was a stretch, but at this point he had no other leads. He just wanted to figure out what was going on and how he could leave. 

He scanned the dark L’manberg property. Empty. Not a single torch or lantern was lit. Which meant… it was clear for him to make a run for it. He knew for a fact that none of his friends would support him going to visit the enemy. If they had any idea what he was trying to do, they would lock him inside the wooden shack until the nether froze over.

Quietly, he slipped out into the warm summer night. As quietly as he could, Tommy crept across the terrain to a small hole in the wall. He couldn’t go out the main entrance, it was completely caved in from the explosion. Trying to climb it would only end poorly. 

He was nearly out of the L’manberg property when a voice cut through the silent night air. “Tommy? Where are you going?”

The teenager swore under his breath. Of course Wilbur was out here. He had even said earlier that he was going to try to keep watch. Tommy turned to where the voice had come from, and nearly shrieked. In the pale moonlight, Wilbur looked like a monster straight out of a story book. His eyes were blood-shot and puffy. Pale, almost translucent looking skin was stretched across his face. His cheeks were sunken in , giving him a ghostly appearance. 

Tommy stepped closer to the older man, now feeling concerned more than anything “I was just… going for a walk…” he said, trying to make the lie sound convincing. 

Wilbur scoffed. “At 2 in the morning? I thought you were supposed to be resting.” he raised an eyebrow 

“I um… got better?” he responded, running his hand through his hair, “and I just wanted to go look around a bit… I’ve been inside for the past week.” he chuckles nervously

“Chugging 5 health potions if not enough to be considered ‘better,’ Tommy. I thought you already learned your lesson.” He made air quotes with his fingers to send his message across.

Tommy’s eyes widened “how did you…” his voice trailed off

His friend laughed at his confusion. “I saw you on the roof of the van earlier. No way would you have been able to make it up there if you were still injured. A quick check on our potion supply was all it took to confirm my suspicions.” 

“W-well then you should know that I’m perfectly capable of going on there on my own! I’m healed up now!” 

“Tommy, I don’t care how healed you are. You aren’t going out there on your own. Understood?”

Tommy’s jaw dropped open “What? Why the fuck not?”

“Because it's dangerous! Who knows what could happen to you if you went out there. Dream already tried to kill you once, who's to say that it won't happen again?” 

“I can take care of myself! I’m not going to do anything stupid” 

“Do you really expect me to believe that? You literally challenged Dream to a fucking duel while we tried negotiating peace treaties. If that isn’t idiotic then I don’t know what is.”

Tommy took a deep breath. Of course Wilbur didn’t trust him to go out on his own. Pretty much every other choice he had made was rash and dumb. Even if it had been mostly for the sake of entertainment in the real world, that wasn’t the case in this world. He was just a brash teenager here. “Will, I’ll be fine. I promise. I just need a chance to go and clear my head. We both know that I won’t get a chance to during the day.” 

Wilbur closed his eyes, considering Tommy’s offer. He did understand where he was coming from. The L’manberg territory wasn’t that big, and it could feel suffocating at times. Besides, he needed to trust his second in command, didn’t he? “Fine. But I expect you to be back by dawn. And I want you to come back and report to me immediately if you see anything suspicious. Understood?” 

He nodded, releasing a breath that he didn’t know he had been holding. “Of course,” he said, taking a step towards the hold in the wall. “Go get some rest Wilbur. You look terrible” 

He shook his head “I’m fine. I just need to keep everyone safe”

“You can’t keep people safe if you’re passed out. Go rest. I’ll wake you up if I see anything.” 

“... Fine. Just be careful” Wilbur stood and walked away from the tree he was sitting against. Tommy stared at his friend’s retreating figure for a moment, before walking out into the crisp summer night. 

As soon as he knew Tommy had left, Wilbur turned and rushed towards the hole in the wall. Like hell was he going to let Tommy go off on his own. The kid was going to do something stupid with no one to back him up. Will wasn’t going to let that happen.

~~~

Dream stood in the training grounds above his home. With a wooden training sword in his hand, he attempted to practice some of the techniques that George had used earlier that day. God, why was he so fucking useless? 

24 seconds. That was how long the longest bout had lasted. 24 seconds before Dream surrendered. It had taken George 4 different bouts before he had called it a day. Dream had refused. He begged his friend to teach him how to use the sword, making up some bull shit excuse about the lingering effects from the poison to justify it. He wanted to learn how to fight. After all, he was apparently the best at combat in the smp. It made sense. After all, he was a world record holder. So why on earth was he so useless?!

“Because its not a fucking game anymore,” he said out loud, frustration seeping into his voice. He was glad no one was around to hear him, or to see him stumbling around with the practice sword. 

“Here I thought you were supposed to be good at PVP,” said a voice behind him. Tommy's voice… Dream whirled around, still holding the sword. 

On one hand, he felt a rush of relief at the words. Tommy had survived. He was ok. But on the other, he was still the second in command of L’manberg. For all Dream knew, Tommy could have been sent to assassinate him. It was a theory that was only made more likely when he considered his failure from earlier that day. Wilbur had somehow heard about how weak and pathetic he had become, and sent Tommy to kill him while he couldn’t fight back. 

Dream locked eyes with his friend. Tommy stood at the opposite side of the small training grounds, watching Dream practice. The teenager stepped onto the wooden floor and picked up one of the practice swords. He held it in his hand for a moment, before making a couple swings and stabs. He may not have fallen over, but he still looked like a dork. 

Tommy let out a laugh, “This is so cool. This is so fucking cool!” he spun and pointed the sword at Dream. His face had a massive grin on it, making him look like a little kid. “Come at me bitch boy, I’ve got a knife! What are you gonna do about it!” 

Dream raised an eyebrow. Tommy was acting as if he had never held a sword in his life. But that didn’t make sense. In this world, sword fighting seemed to be rather common. And Tommy had been rather skilled at minecraft PVP. That should have translated to his combat abilities in this world. So why was he acting like a 5 year old? “You act like you’ve never held a sword before,” Dream said. 

Tommy stared at Dream, trying to gauge his reaction. He tried to figure out the best response. He had heard Dream muttering about it not being a game anymore, but that wasn’t nearly enough to risk revealing himself. So instead he pushed just a little more. “Says the one flailing around like a headless chicken. Aren’t you supposed to be the Minecraft god? Or are you just bad?”

Dream froze. No one had even mentioned the word Minecraft since he had arrived here. Whenever he tried bringing it up in conversation, his friends had just looked at him like he was crazy. But here Tommy was just saying it like it was nothing. “How do you-” he began to ask, but was cut off by the sound of metal. 

Tommy’s eyes narrowed. Dream knew something. And he wasn’t sharing. In a single motion, he drew his netherite sword and pointed it at Dream’s throat. He took a deep breath, trying to keep his hand from trembling. Dream dropped his practice sword and raised his hands in the air. Tommy was seething with anger. “I fucking knew it! You stupid son of a bitch I knew you had something to do with this! What did you do to me?! Where am I?! Why can’t I go home?!”

“I-”

“What are you planning Dream? What are you trying to get out of this?” He growled. 

“I don’t know!” Dream said desperately “I don’t know what's going on!” 

“Bullshit! You’re the only one who’s even remotely reacted to something from the real world. You must know something!” 

“Tommy I just want to go home!” Dream shouts “I don’t fucking belong here! Don’t you think if I knew how to leave, I would?!” 

“Give me one good reason why I should believe you,” he said, stepping forward slightly so that the tip of the blade rested against Dream’s throat. 

“Because you’re my friend!” he yelled. “If I knew how to help you, or what to do, then I would!”

Tommy considered Dream’s words. He had a point… the two of them were friends, weren’t they? Tommy should at least give him the courtesy of listening to his side of the story before jumping to any conclusions. Dream’s appearance only solidified his decision. His eyes were red and swollen from lack of sleep. He looked like he was in a similar condition to Wilbur. Except instead of stress and worry, Dream’s declining health was due to frustration and fear. 

He lowered the blade to his side and stepped back. “Fine. I’ll believe you for now.” He looked down at his hand “When were you brought here?” 

Dream let out a breath of relief. He knew that if Tommy had really wanted to, he could have run him through, no questions asked. And Dream didn’t even know how to defend himself. “About a week ago I think? It was during the bow duel…” 

Tommy nodded. “Same. All I remember was being on the computer, and then suddenly I held a bow and had an arrow through my chest.”

Dream winced “Are you ok now at least? I’ve been really scared that I actually killed you…” 

“Fine. I drank a couple health pots earlier today, so at least my wound is healed. It’s been more boring than anything else” he was silent for a moment, thinking. “Dream… How much do you know about the war?” 

“Um, wasn’t it pretty much the same as it was in game?” 

Tommy shook his head “No. According to Tubbo, it was so much worse here… Apparently the war has been going on for over half a year now. I guess the only reason everyone lasted so long was because they were constantly downing health and regen pots. But even so, I guess it was a bloodbath…” his voice trailed off, remembering the pained and weary expression on Tubbo’s face when he had talked about it. 

“Are you serious…?” 

“Yeah. Everyone back in L’manberg is terrified of you. They all despise you for what you’ve done to them. I guess the other you was a ruthless monster…” 

The concerned look on Dream's face only grew more and more as Tommy continued talking. The two of them stood in silence once Tommy had finished. After a couple minutes of thinking, he finally spoke. “Tomorrow, I’ll be calling a council to negotiate a peace treaty. I’m going to put an end to this war, once and for all.”

Tommy nodded “that sounds… good. It’ll be nice to not have everyone look so fucking scared all the time” He glanced up at the moon in the sky. “I need to be heading back. Will is gonna be worried if I’m not back soon.”

“Oh yeah, isn’t it past your bedtime?” he asked with a chuckle

A smile broke out onto tommys face “I’ll have you know, I am far too old and mature for bedtimes.” 

“Right. I’m sure that everyone would agree with that” 

“Oh they most definitely would. After all, I’m the second in command to Wilbur! It takes a lot of maturity to do that.” 

“Uh huh. Get going you freaking child” 

“Sorry, I can’t hear you over the sound of your stupidity!” Tommy called out as he walked away from Dream and back to L’manberg. For the first time since he had woken up, he felt actually hopeful. Hopeful that he would find a way home. Hopeful that maybe things would turn out ok. He grinned to himself as he jogged down the wooden path, mostly just grateful that he was no longer all alone.

~~~ Wilbur paced in his small room, trying to figure out what to do. The conversation between Tommy and Dream echoed in his mind. At first, he had been following Tommy to protect him and make sure he didn’t do anything rash. He had very nearly revealed himself to the teenager when he had approached the training grounds. But then he had heard him start to speak.

Tommy may have baited and attacked Dream at first, but then Dream had claimed to be a friend. Wilbur wasn’t sure what bothered him more. The fact that Dream was claiming to be an ally, or the fact that those words had caused Tommy to spare him. Just last week, Tommy had sworn to kill Dream, no matter what. Why on earth had he suddenly changed his mind? 

Unless… Unless it was all an act. An act to get close to them, then stab them in the backs. No. No Tommy would never do that. There had to be some other explanation. Some other reasoning for his behavior. 

Wilbur hadn’t heard the conversation after Tommy had spared Dream. He knew that he should have stayed, but he couldn’t bear watching his friend betray him. Better to live in the dark. He would just have to keep an eye on him. Yeah. Keep an eye on him, and make sure that he didn’t do anything to hurt them. 

It would be fine. Everything would be fine.

~~~

“Look. If you’re here to ask about Tommy or Dream, then you can piss off. I came back to streaming for a break from all that,” Tubbo told his viewers. His eyes involuntarily drifted towards his other monitor, as they often did when he thinking about his missing friends. His second monitor was where he had Discord open. Where Tommy and Dream still sat in the main voice channel, completely silent. Neither of their families had the heart to turn off their computers, so they just sat there, exactly as they were before they vanished. Tubbo liked to sit in the vc whenever he was streaming. Something about it was… comforting to him. He wasn’t sure why. 

His attention was drawn back to the stream chat by a donation. It was filled with questions about his missing friends.

He let out a groan of frustration. “All right, we’re going on sub only mode for a bit. I can’t deal with this shit right now. Thanks mods,” he told the chat, “I know, I know, I don’t like it either. But I just can’t deal with questions about them right now. Sorry guys.” 

That was when it happened. A rustling sound. A voice very quietly saying, “what the…” 

Tubbo frowned in confusion. “Can you guys hear that? Or is it just me?” he asked. 

That was when he heard it. Tommy's voice. Tommy’s voice coming in from the discord vc. All he said were two words. “Hello? Tubbo?” 

The stream went offline.

~~~

Master Post

First - Previous - Next

[mydriases]

Silent cry

Jamil Viper x Reader Warnings: Spoilers for episode 4, Hurt/Comfort Word Count: 3 600 Summary: In the aftermath, you wonder if his love for you was nothing more than another lie.

Winter break was a bit too long for you. You loved holidays but being away from your love for so long weighed on you. You remembered how warm his lips were when he kissed you goodbye before you went through the mirror. You wished you could have went along with him in the Country of Hot Sands but your family wanted deservedly to have you home. It didn’t ease your longing for him though. The desire to be reunited with him increasing the more you thought about him and the last smile he had given you.

You had finished your homework in a short time, putting in practice every study tips Jamil had gave you. Passing the time while getting lost in the colorful world of Magicam, the notification that rang in your ears easily caught your attention to inform you that Azul Ashengrotto had started a live stream on his account. With nothing better to do and wanting to avoid continuing to drown yourself in the gloom of this endless day, you pressed the screen without thinking.

You were surprised when the face of your love appeared in your field of vision. As far as you knew, Azul and Jamil were only classmates, so to see the latter on Azul's account was odd to say the least. The focus of the camera became a little blurred, highlighting the scenery instead of  your beloved. You recognized the walls as those from the Scarabia Dorm. What were they doing there? Jamil didn't tell you anything about staying at Night Raven for the holidays. Had he received orders from his parents telling him to stay with Kalim in Scarabia?

The camera stabilized again and you were able to see Jamil more clearly. You expected to see his usually serene look, but what left you speechless was that Jamil’s expression showed a confusing wickedness. A sneer deformed his mouth while his arms made grand gestures as he spoke to someone in front of him. You found a look of resemblance with the face he did after winning against you at your favorite game. Nonetheless, you never had witnessed Jamil having on his face such a frightening contempt. Did they decided to organize a friendly competition in Scarabia’s dorm ? No, Jamil would have invited you if so, he always did.

The person who was filming zoomed out and you saw Azul, blank stare and dangling arms, direct opposite of Jamil's threatening aura. You immediately figured out the situation and prayed that you were mistaken. He wouldn't dare, would he? There was no more friendliness in the air, everything indicated a confrontation that took a turn for the worst. That was the only logical reason Jamil would have used his unique magic on someone, especially Azul with who he had a polite relation. But none of them had a hot temper so it didn’t make any sense in your eyes.

And then Jamil spoke.

What scared you, even more than the hatred that seemed to consume your beloved on every side were the words Jamil articulated without trembling. Revealing his desire to bring Kalim down from his position of dorm leader, he seemed drowned in joy as it was clear that his plan was working.

He had spoken without shame, his voice betraying that he believed in every word he said. You didn't understand, you didn't want to understand. In the hope of finding a logical explanation, your gaze slipped on the title of the live: "The dark side of a certain famous magic school". There was no information on the nature of the current events. So was it not a joke? Jamil was not the type to participate in this kind of thing. But maybe if Kalim had asked him he would have accepted ? But you were certain he used his unique magic and he had always been so secretive about it, there’s no way he would have used it in front of thousands of people. You didn’t know what to think anymore.

Jamil kept talking, spitting his venom on Kalim and on his position as vice dorm leader which he seemed to hate with all his heart. As hard as his words were, you couldn't help but feel your heart clench at the sight of the triumph that lit up his face. He had suffered so much that he felt liberated by the simple thought that Kalim would soon no longer be a part of his life. All this sick euphoria was the result of a pain you never knew anything about.

He used the word ‘free’, as if he'd been imprisoned in his role and his sentence was about to be served. He believed that the downfall of Kalim would be his ascension. Suffocating under the most negative emotions he saw only his own hatred, reason disappearing little by little.

Before you knew it, tears had begun to wet the corners of your eyes. Comments from other users were all expressing their shock at this student's behaviour. They were talking about how unacceptable his attitude was and that he was the one who should expelled from this school. Horrible. Everything you saw was horrible: Jamil's expression and words as well as the comments from people who didn't even know him, who didn't know anything about how he felt. Then, you wondered.

Did you know him as well as you wanted to believe?

One of Octavinelle's twins entered the camera field, accompanied by Kalim and Ramshackle Dorm's student. Jamil's face decomposed as he realized he had been tricked, in front of more than five thousand spectators.

You listened carefully to their conversation, their voices muffled by the rapid beat of your pulse. You saw Azul break out of his false hypnosis and Kalim ask, on the verge of a breakdown, if Jamil was really betraying him.

Jamil laughed. He laughed and it seemed to be liberating for him. He had lost, but there was no more pretending anymore. His laughter became a cry of hatred towards Kalim and, as it was apparently still possible, his face sank deeper into this malevolent expression as he conjured up his unique magic: Snake Whisper.

His unique magic was a secret for everyone in school, except for you and Kalim. When you took your relationship to the next level, he had accepted to entrust you with the real nature of his magic. Because you were equals, because you loved each other. And now, while witnessing his actions, you wondered what was left of this mutual trust.

A flash flooded your screen and you heard a voice uttering the beginning of the word "overblot". Then the broadcast was over and you were left shaken in the solitude of your bedroom.

Your brain filled with thoughts, each one more heartbreaking than the last. Your boyfriend was a manipulator (was he ? or it’s because you didn’t manage to see through him ?), he has just overblotted (thanks to someone who failed to alleviate his suffering) and was going to hurt loads of people (and to think that you could have avoided all of this). Did you fall in love with this person? Did you have any responsibility for his actions? (yes and yes).

Your conscience was being torn apart. Split between guilt and fear and incomprehension. You needed to do something, anything. You needed to go there so as to reason with him, so as to get explanations. Time suddenly seemed to accelerate as you hurried to put on your shoes and get your coat on.

You left a note on the kitchen table, summarizing the situation in a handwriting that betrayed a nervous tremor of the hand. You came out of your house -gasping for breath before you even started to run- and headed towards the nearest public transport.

Everything was long over by the time you got here.

You’ve asked everyone you encountered, pleading for someone who knew where Jamil was. The student from the Rhamshackle Dorm was your savior. Explaining along with their weird cat what happened in details and telling you that he was now resting in his room. You thanked the two of them and started to run to where you knew he was.

You stopped to hurry halfway through.

Loads of the damage he’s made was because of the fact he overblotted but that didn’t explain his disturbing scheme. If during all this time he had only been forging a perfect image of himself, hiding all his bad attentions, what was left of the sincerity you had sworn to each other? Jamil has just been unsmasked but you don’t change in the twinkling of an eye. It took time for Jamil to put up with his plan and it will take time to make a fresh start. Was everything before that a lie?

As far as you can remember, your relationship with Jamil was one-sided in therm of confidence. You told him your insecurities, your traumas and most of your philosophy on life. He told you loved you. Being evasive at the slightest question because when I’m with you I don’t want to think about bad things, you make me happy and I want this relationship to be about the love between you and me. Not my problems. I can be your confident of course, but don’t expect to me to share everything. It’s just how I am, it doesn’t mean I don’t love you, because I really do.

That was the first time he confessed to you. You didn’t answer, because you were too busy embracing him and nuzzling the crook of his neck. It was also because you were feeling a bit disappointed. You didn’t want to be clingy if that’s not what he wanted, it was fine, really. But it made you feel like you were not as close to him as you wished. His arguments were justified : when you’re with your loved ones it’s normal to want to have fun and not think about all the depressing stuff that happened in your life. But now that Jamil has overblotted nothing is the same.

You sincerely wanted to believe him, to leave behind his bad deeds and start all over again. But a part of you pointed its finger at him while murmuring in you ear that he was a liar, a hypocrite that used you to appear less suspicious. Kalim choose to forgive him, obviously, despite all the suffering he endured. He has always been very lenient after all. You still haven’t seen him, nevertheless the chances are high that he would tell you that Jamil has always been at his side. Helping him through the hardest times, having been raised with him. That’s wasn’t your case.

If you wanted to leave him you’re sure he would understand. You could find another person to love and build a relationship not based on lies. But first and foremost, Jamil deserved the right to explain himself.

In front of his bedroom, as feeble as the first time you knocked on his door, except that this time it was because your relationship with Jamil was about to take a turn, not because you were excited to see him ; you waited for an answer that never came. You couldn’t be patient anymore. You pushed one of the handles and were surprised to discover that the door latch was unlocked.

Jamil was sitting on his bed, his gaze not lingering on you as he fastly looked away. It destroyed you. You thought you were ready to face him. To accept that he despised you, rejected you or begged you to forgive him, but not that he ignored you. Your voice came out hoarse, as wounded as you were :

" I came as soon as I could "

You wanted to cry at his feet and plead him to forgive you for not understanding him, you wanted him to cry for hurting you and Kalim, you wanted to leave him, you wanted him to tell you he loved you.

With his head down, one hand firmly clutching the sheet underneath him, he gave no answer. For the time being you were still lovers, but within the four walls of this room you were strangers. Because of him, perhaps because of you. You took a breath and knew what to say.

" I’m sorry "

For not being there when you needed me, for letting myself get attached to an illusion, for what you’re about to say, for everything that will be left untold.

" For what ? You did nothing wrong. "

He sighed and let himself fall backwards on the bed. He gazed at the ceiling, eyelids fluttering soflty as his hand was still grabbing the sheet under him. You walked towards him, he looked up to you and you found mixed emotions in his eyes. He seemed glad you were here but also like he would prefer for you to be anywhere else. You sat on the bed in a way that Jamil could not see your face, you didn’t need your voice to become tearful and trembling. The silence invaded the room as you were pondering over what to say. You tightened and loosened your grip on your coat, which you had been forced to remove due to the heat, and decided to cut to the chase.

" Jamil, I know I’ve never told you before but I love you. "

In spite of everything that happened, it was true. You knew that your endearment for him really had evolved in something stronger a long time ago. It's a shame it's only now that you're telling him.

You had to question him about his actions, make him spill whether or not he used you. But you didn't have the strength. Your spirits had never been so low, your self-confidence so damaged. Every answer to your questions would turn out to be a knife stuck a little deeper into your wounds and you couldn't take it. He knew either way, didn't he? He was observant, you were an open book to him so there was no need to ask questions he already knew.

You remember when you kissed for the first time and that the two of you became a couple. Everything was so easy, so simple. Never you would have thought that one day things would change, that you would want to run away from him. In the span of a few minutes, your whole life had changed. Anyone could be a traitor, from the most reserved friend to the one that couldn’t stop talking. Somewhere among these people was a liar. You had hoped it would not be Jamil, that it was just a misunderstanding and a bad joke from Octavinelle’s trio, but the facts were there.

You heard the rustle of the sheets, hitting that Jamil sat up again, and felt the warm contact of skin against your shoulder. Hesitantly, you turned your head towards him and he clutch to you a bit more as a sign of encouragement. His gaze was now overwhelmed by sorrow, mirroring your own expression. He sighed once again and reached into his pocket in order to pull out a bracelet decorated with a small red stone, similar to the one that adorned the ribbon in his hair.

" Here " he said, his voice trailing off as he was finishing his sentence " I wanted to give this to you to celebrate my rise as Dorm Leader but it won’t happen. I don't think I could give you things like this again after our talk, so take it. "

He handed you the bracelet, his fingertips brushing against the palm of your hand while doing so, you started observing the red gem so as to benefit from a pause in the conversation. He seemed sincere which illuminated a beacon of hope in you : Jamil meant to give you this after his accomplishment which signified that you were not a mere piece in his plan. That was one less thing to worry about, remained his disturbing attitude.

You played with piece of jewelry, observing the delicacy of the gemstone and the golden color of the bracelet. Giving you such an expensive item as a present was symbolic, surely it wasn’t just a piece of the richness of the Asim family. Jamil would have prefered to offer you something more personal, not showy but simple. He was like that.

Your heart sank.

" I’m sorry, because I didn’t see how you felt and also, maybe, because I feel uspset to habe been deceive by the person I trusted the most. I’m sorry for myself. "

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught sight of Jamil straightening his posture.

" In a way, you’re both similar and different to Kalim " confied Jamil, " How could have you changed anything when I was the one keeping everything to myself ? " He crossed his arms, one of his thumbs circling on his skin. " That’s why I’m the who needs to apologize. Not because I regret my actions, but because I’ve abused your trust. If I had told you, there are chances that you would have tried to stop me. Now that I overblotted I guess that it wouldn’t have been a bad thing. " His hand almost went to hold yours, but he suddenly changed his mind. " Forgive me. You were the one person I didn't want to hurt no matter what. "

Although it was what you came for, his apology didn't lighten the load on your heart. You wipped away a tear you didn’t feel coming, silently hoping that Jamil saw nothing.

The light of the room was getting dimmer as the sun began to disappear into the horizon. In the silence and darkness of the place, the gravity of the situation was crushing you. Here we are, the time to choose to forgive or not. You would be a liar if you said that you didn’t still want to be with him. To hug him and run your hand through his hair like before, to work beside him -paying more attention to him than to your homework- to talk to him about whatever interests you at the moment. But it would also be a lie to say something hadn't been broken in you. If he’s lied to you once, there was no proof he wouldn’t do it twice.

" I wished there was a way I could make it up to you " Jamil mumbled and you authorized yourself to turn to him. His eyes were glistening lightly, half hidden under his locks. That was a odd thing to see him moved, as well as a huge step forward.

" It will take long before I can trust you again, Jamil " you sobbed unable to restrain yourself any longer. The back of Jamil’s hand came to wipe away the tears that escaped you. Your gazes met. His expression was worried, his movements were uncertain and his voice wavered when he whispered your name.

" Do you want anything ? Maybe a handkerchief? "

The tears multiplied, but it didn't matter when the man in front of you wore the same expression.

" Hug me. "

More of an order than a request, but Jamil complied without hesitation. His arms wrapped around your form, you leaned into his touch and the two of you sank into the bed. One of his hand caressed you head as you nuzzled his neck, still sobbing, maybe a bit less loudly. From the start, his warmth was what you were looking for, finding his embrace again and spending your time by his side. Little did you know that the moment of your reunion was going to have the bitter aftertaste of tears.

" Can I stay with you for the night ? "

" Yes, you can. Of course. " he whispered, "Does your family know you’re here ?"

" I left a note, they’ll understand. "

There was still several thing you needed to discuss but for now you let yourself fall asleep in the soothing embrace of your love. You had been deceived and hurt, Jamil had been belittled and probably just as hurt. Maybe it was necessary to pass through all of this in order to better your relationship. Regardless, that was all in the past now. You weren’t sure wether or not you forgave him, the scars being still opened and far from being healed, but you were ready to try again. And hopefully, your couple wasn’t going to be as one-sided as before.

Underneath you, Jamil reflected on the consequences of his actions. In spite of all his bad deeds, Kalim, you and so many others have decided to forgive him. He felt good, he felt awful. Mainly he felt grateful for all the kindness he received and that he didn't deserve. Things will be different from now on, he’ll be Kalim’s servant no more, at least not as much as before. All his plans had been revealed, there was nothing left to hide.

He synchronized his breathing with yours and realized you had fallen asleep. There was still a long way to go before the damage he's done can be repaired but he’ll try. Because you, and even Kalim, deserved to be happy. His arm wrapped a bit more around you as he waited for sleep to take him.

It was strange but the darkness of his room didn’t feel lonely anymore.

Hey, it’s been a while. I’m still a silent lurker who doesn’t want to bother at heart that’s why I don’t post updates, hope you didn’t forget about me. I’m still working on requests but I struggle a bit to convey what I want sometimes and end up deleting what I’ve done because I don’t think it’s good enough :’) I hope all of you are safe, my inbox is open to anon again if you want to talk.

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

What a Time to be Alive - Diego x reader

Chapter 4- The Majestic 12

Summary: Although, your wounds are able to heal instantaneously, Diego’s are not and for that he payed the price. In the aftermath of getting shanked, you give Diego some much needed TLC. Now you, Diego, and Five, are on the hunt at some gala for any valuable information, regarding the activities of Sir Reginald Hargreeves.

If you want tagged just hit me up. Tagged: @white-wolf-buckaroo @fandomoverlord221 @la-vie-en-amour1​ @2cuteforyourlies​ @thatfandombitcch

Sitting next to Diego on the couch, you rip off his bandage, intently listening to Five ramble on about the Vanya situation as you attend to his healing injury.

“So what you just let her go.” Asks Diego surprised.

“Well, Vanya had a lot to process.” He says matter-of-factly. “She’ll come around. I know she will.”

“What about the guys that went after her?” You ask him, while ripping off some medical tape for Diego’s new bandage.

“The Swedes?”

“Yeah, how do you know they won’t go after her again?” You question, taking a cup of hot coffee from Elliot.

“We don’t.”

“Do you have any idea who sent them?” Lila asks Five, taking a sip of coffee from her own cup.

With a knowing smile, Five answers her, “Oh, I have my suspicions.” You guessing it probably has to do with Five’s colorful background coming back to bite him. “But right now, our priority is finding Dad and getting answers, cause everything else depends on it.”

“Which for the record, I found him already.” Diego adds, you hold in a chuckle at how well that interaction went.

“And then let him go before we could have a meaningful conversation.” Sasses Five with that stupid I-know-more-then-you smirk.

“He stabbed me.” Says Diego bluntly, trying to make a point as to why things didn’t go well.

“I’m surprised he waited this long, Diego. We’ve all had the urge.” Jabs Five yet again. Causing you to snort and start laughing out loud along with Lila and Elliot. Getting an offended look from Diego, you turn you face to give him a kiss on his cheek in an attempt at lessening his hurt pride.

“Good thing I know where Dad’s gonna be tonight.” Five says, handing Diego a piece of folded paper.

Reaching across the small coffee table to grab it, he sits down next to you again, holding up the parchment for you to both read. Leaning in, you look at its contents, as Five continues to talk. “Found it at his office while he was busy stabbing you.” Five says sarcastically, as Diego fake laughs.

“Hoyt Hillenkoetter and the Consultant General of Mexico in Dallas cordially invite you to a gala.” Diego reads.

“Whoa, wait. Hoyt Hillenkoetter? Are you serious?” Questions Elliot, apparently knowing something none of you four do.

“You know him?” You ask curious.

“We should go, says there’s gonna be a seafood tower.” Lila adds randomly, having looked it over before, when Five wasn’t looking. You nod to her, looking at Diego. “I wouldn’t mind seeing you in a suite.” You wink, earning a warm smile from him.

“No, Hillenkoetter is...is one of the Majestic Twelve.” Elliot says slightly nervously.

“The hell are the Majestic Twelve?” Questions Diego. As you quickly throw an orange slice in his mouth.

“It’s a...a secret committee. Uh, scientists, militarily, uh, deep state.” Rambles Elliot, walking over to his desk looking for something he continues. “No one really knows what they do.”

Scoffing you add, “Huh, they sound like a blast.”

“Wait, so they’re government?” Diego grunts, trying to sit up better.

“Shadow Government. Yeah, Kennedy was the first President to try to push ‘em into the light, but these guys are not to be trifled with. Oh, here we go. Ah, right here.” Elliot says bringing a photograph over to the four of you. “That’s Hoyt right there.” He points.

Examining the picture you notice only 11 men. “Weird there’s only 11 of them.”

“Well, that’s because they’ve only identified 11 so far.” Adds Elliot.

“Who’s the twelfth?” Diego asks looking at the photograph. You look to Five, raising your eyebrow in that you-thinking-what-I’m-thinking mutual understanding, him doing the same. Oh boy, here we go.

——

Arriving at the gala dressed in your best attire, a slightly uncomfortable dark blue dress and flats. You, Diego, Five, and Lila, hide behind a short brick wall type structure. Each of you peaking your heads over the edge to get a better view of the place full of richly dressed people. Quickly Diego climbs up and over the stones, you three following suit and crouching close to the nearby parked cars.

“So, what’s the plan guys?” Asks Lila quietly.

“Don’t answer that.” You warn Diego. Who ignores you, trying to be the smart tough guy once again. “We infiltrate, we identify, we extract. Double time.” 

“I feel like I’m in a spy movie.” You whisper to yourself.

“What the hell’s he talking about.” Lila asks from behind you turning her question to Five, who’s crouched at the rear of the pack.

“Find the old man and get out fast.” He says smartly.

“That’s what I said.” Diego looks back at them, like what he said before wasn’t obvious enough.

“Alright 007, lets go.” You say, touching is shoulder and pushing ever so slightly for emphasis. Turning forward he crouch walks to the next car, you trailing him. Suddenly your ears catch the conversation between Lila and Five a couple cars over. You raise your eyebrow at Five’s untrustworthiness towards Lila, amused by their little conversation. Now that you think about it, you have assumed some odd shit could be up with her, but you’ve been playing along this whole time. Not wanting to state the obvious yet, you needed more time and suspicious proof first of any false behavior.

——

Walking into the wealthy looking establishment, you take a drink off a waiters tray. Giving it a sniff, before taking a small sip enjoying the fizzy liquid sliding down your throat. “I don’t see Dad anywhere.” Diego says, looking around the room full of wealthy strangers.

“Just keep an eye out for the Majestic Twelve. I got the upstairs.” Five tells you three, alcoholic beverage already in hand. “Diego, try not to do anything stupid. Y/N, watch him.” He adds, walking away. As Lila walks off towards the seafood table.

You sniff the air, trying to catch a familiar scent, maybe if old Reggie really is here, you’d be able to smell his stupid suffocating cologne. A second later trumpets start to play to a well known tune. You suddenly feel the urge to dance, excited now that your old dance partner’s back. Walking through the crowd while pulling on Diego’s tie, you lead him to the dance floor.

Diego pulls you to him, trying to gain control of the situation unfolding before is very eyes. The two of you are almost eye to eye with each other, as you hold onto one another closely. As the mariachi band continues to play, Diego twists you around, your back now to him. He lets his hands trail down your sides without so much as single protest from you, you’re enjoying this way to much. You twirl grabbing his hands before he can go any lower. Your hands wander up to rest on his shoulders, his comfortably caressing your lower back. “Someone’s got moves.” You look up at him stating the obvious.

“Well the old man did insist on making us take those ballroom dancing lessons.” He looks at you lovingly before continuing, now mimicking Sir Reginald’s voice. “One never knows when the paso doble will be the difference between life and death...” “children” You both smile, saying the last part together as Diego dips you.

“My turn.” You say while giving him a mischievous grin. Pulling yourself up with Diego still holding you close, you take the lead. Surprising him in the process, much to your amusement.

“What are you doing?” He asks, taken aback at your sudden dominance.

“Just follow my lead.” You saying smiling sweetly at him.

“Uh, Y/N, no. I’m the man here.” Diego says dazed by the abrupt change in the dance positioning, you smirk at him, thoroughly enjoying how you’ve taken him off guard.

Grabbing his hands you smoothly twist him around so his back is now to you. Using your left hand you touch his cheek, hastily bringing his undivided attention straight to your own beaming face. Quickly giving him a kiss before pushing his face away once more, twirling him around, and positioning yourself back to how you two first began. With his right hand on your hip and your left on his shoulder, you two holding hands and swaying to the music. He pulls you in closer to his chest, your faces inches apart as you turn your head to laugh into his broad shoulder. You can feel him kiss the side of your face as he smoothly sways you to the music, he follows your gaze as you adjust yourself to look up into his chocolate eyes.

“You have no idea how glad I am to have found you again.” He gives you another chaste kiss in reply.

“Sorry you had to wait for my ass for so long, if I would have known you were in Dallas.” You let out a small laugh, biting your lip to hold in a smile as he continues to sway you around to the festive music.

“Instead you got yourself arrested within the first day of being here. I don’t know if I should be impressed or not....Diego Hargreeves you are truly...something.” His face breaks out into an embarrassed smile as he leans his head down onto your shoulder to hide his redness, only you would be able to make him lose his cool, and so easily at that. He picks his head up once again to stare adoringly into you bright eyes, his eyes flickering down to your parted lips for a fraction of a second. Your face breaks out into a Cheshire Cat-like grin at the absolute wonderful cuteness of Diego. 

“So how’d I do last night? Since you know, it’s been awhile for you. I think I still got it Y/N.” He says with a suggestive wiggle of his eyebrows, you roll your eyes at his implication of last nights love-making, he’s so bold.

“Satisfactory.”

“Just satisfactory? Babe I think I was really doing a great job. You sure looked like you agreed at the time.”

“Okay fine. You were incredibly stunningly marvelous, a perfect 10 out of 10. The review says she would do it again.” He smiles in deep satisfaction at your praising of his more intimate talents. You just give him a slight half annoyed eye roll, only you two would be scoring each other on how well your I-missed-you sex was.

When you look up at his face again, he isn’t smiling anymore, attention now snagged by some shinier fish. You twist your neck right, following his distracted gaze. “It can’t be.” He whispers in disbelief, breaking away from you to go see... Grace. Letting him go, you silently follow him, hiding behind a white pillar as you eves drop onto their conversation. Holy shit, Grace was a real person and she was Sir Reginald’s frickin date, you thought to yourself almost as shocked as Diego probably is. You listen more intently, and cackle at the comment Grace gives Diego about being a little odd. You’re definitely not wrong about that, you’d like to tell her.

Watching Grace walk past you and towards who knows where, you come out from behind the pillar to face Diego, who’s standing there with his arms folded, looking rather lost. “Well that went swimmingly.” You quip.

Diego breaks from his thoughtful trance, rolling his eyes as he walks on over to you, taking your bent arm in his. “I guess we should probably find Lila, huh.” He adds. “Perhaps we shall.” You say in a posh English accent, giving him a wink as he lets out a breathy laugh at your theatrics.

——

Leaning against the wall, watching as the other party-goers make boring conversation with each other. You push yourself off the marble surface and begin walking towards Diego, who’s obliviously looking at a chandelier like an intrigued child. Right on cue, you hear a thud coming from up above you and then aggressive shuffling around. Five is the strongest guess most likely, and someone else. Hearing a quiet “Oh, shit.” Coming from Five you decide it’s probably best to not leave him hanging.

Turning to Diego, while also unknowingly gaining the attention of Lila. You whisper yell for him to follow you up the stairs to Five’s rescue. Racing up the steps in record time with Diego not far behind you. You look to your right, noticing in surprise that Five’s in a bit of a scuffle with one of the blonde Swedes that tried shooting you, Diego, and Lila earlier. Stopping for a brief moment, not entirely sure what to do as this is indeed very odd. You hear footsteps quickly approaching from behind you, smelling the scent of sweat and anger in its wake.

A second later you hear Diego yell out your name in distress as your hair is pulled back and a belt is tightly wrapped around your windpipe. Getting dragged back down the hallway, completely taken off guard, you struggle to breath as your eyes go wide in astonishment. Your gaze shifts to Diego, as he angrily sprints to you, charging at the taller Swede who’s about to gut punch you with brass knuckles. Fuck.

Bracing yourself, ready to get the wind knocked out of you. Diego heroically pushes the guy into the wall, punching him hard in the face. Your throat is suddenly released, only for the shorter Swede to turn you around and crack you across the side of your head with his belt. Kicking you out of the way and across the floor you tumble, your head stinging in pain. Dazed, from the not even 20 second violent actions you just got shoved into. You get up from the floor feeling a hot liquid running down the side of your face. Touching your temple, you pull your hand away to unveil deep red blood coating your fingers. This bitch is dead.

You look up instantly to watch in dismay as Diego is currently getting his ass whooped by the two pissed off Swedes. The one that was previously choking you, is now suffocating Diego with that fucking leather belt. After getting punched in the stomach by brass knuckle Swede, Diego kicks him to the ground, still struggling with the first who’s still doing his damn best to suffocate him. Grabbing a knife previously hidden in his pocket, he throws it with his free hand. Missing his target in the heat of the moment, which was intended to hit the other large Swede that’s beating the shit out of Five further down the hallway.

Fuming, with the rage of a bull at the manhandling you just unwillingly received. You rush forward throwing your right arm around the blonds throat that’s currently choking Diego. Pulling down hard, the Swede releases him, now struggling to breath from your own violent attack. The tables have turned, bitch. You aggressively throw him into the wall, kicking him hard in the stomach as you send him thrashing onto the carpeted floor.

Turning quickly to the sound of pained grunts, you watch as Diego gets punched in the stomach with the brass knuckles you so marvelously avoided. You catch sight of Lila, who looks to both of you before turning to Five and running to his aid. Alright then.

Only letting yourself get distracted for a moment, you turn back to your new little fighting buddy, who’s now standing and looking very enraged.

“Let’s dance.” You hiss at him with a bitter smirk, clenching your fists.

Hearing the sound of glass breaking behind you, you ignore it. As you face the blonde Swedish assassin, dodging a heated swing, you bring your left arm up to sucker punch him right in the guts. You turn around swiftly to face him again, only to receive a hard blow to your shoulder. He’s good, but not good enough. He goes to kick you in the legs, missing by an inch as you pull back just in time. Realizing he still has his belt clutched in his right hand, he cracks it at you with lightning speed. Time slows for a second as your senses begin to take over, giving you better reaction time. You turn to the right and watch as the shining silver of the belt buckle shows you your own distorted reflection. Catching the makeshift weapon mid-throw, you grab it tightly with your left fist. Pulling him towards you in the process, you then reach out and tightly seize his throat with your right hand. Throwing the leather belt off to the side and growling fiercely at his surprised face, you lift him up an inch or two off the ground. Struggling to breath and find his footing again, he suddenly shoots his arms up directly into your right one, that’s currently strangling him. You drop him, yelping in surprise at the sudden pain. Quickly gaining his bearings back, he jumps up on the wall for support, as he speedily throws himself at you, sucker punching you right in the cheekbone. Fucking ouch. Stumbling back from the aggressive hit to your face, you both begin intensely throwing punches at each other, getting a hit in here and there, while also managing to block most of his advances. Who knew you’d be reuniting with your lost lover and fighting Swedish assassins at a gala this week. Things have been weirder, you think, focusing back on the task at hand, literally. Grimacing in pain at the hit you just received to your shoulder, you jump up, kicking him into the wall and leaving a small dent. Slightly disoriented, he gets up again, blocking another one of your knee thrusts heading straight for his junk. Sometimes you fight dirty, okay. Throwing your left arm up to block a hit, you take this opportunity to twist yourself around to the right in a quick circle. Jutting your right elbow directly into the Swedes temple, knocking him unconscious. That’s right fucker, nighty night.

Your ears tune promptly to the sound of broken glass yet again, and the sound of Diego’s grunts mixed with that of the angry Swede he is currently fighting. You watch as they fight dirty, picking up whatever objects they could get their hands on as they continue to beat each other up down the hallway. Knocking blondie out with an impressive hit to his head, Diego looks out the window spotting Reginald and Grace standing outside ready to go home. You catch where his eyes are looking, observing the scene of them together for yourself.

You hear Diego whisper a soft, “Dad” before turning to you, worriedly looking at the stream of blood coming from the side of your hairline.

Pointing to the bloody spot you flash him a small smile. “You should see the other guy.”

Smiling briefly, he nods at you while turning towards the stairs and walking quickly down them, you right behind him. As the two of you make your way through the bustling crowd, right out the doors, and through the grass to the front entrance where Five is shouting something in another language at a retreating car.

“Was that him?” Diego questions.

“Yeah.” Five says, sounding like he’s out of breath.

“Jesus, it’s just one thing after the other” You add irritated. Fed up with all this Hargreeves nonsense. Especially those fucking Swedes.

[yandere-wishes]

Aquaphobia //Yandere Leviathen x reader//

Oh, have I never mentioned that I am MORTIFIED of water and literally any sea creatures...no? It must have slipped my mind.

For this story, I'm making a few assumptions. 1) Levi can turn into some sort of sea monster-like thing I'm assuming it looks like a cross between a Megladon/Giant squid/ Sea serpent. 2) He can communicate with sea creatures. 3) The giant horrifying aquarium that basically makes up his back wall is in reality linked to either an ocean or somewhere that houses a bunch of dangerous sea beings. 4) In addition to sea animal communication Levi posses Aquakinesis

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

For as long as you can remember water has always haunted you.

The large bodies of H2O particles have never failed to shake you to your very core. 

In every single nightmare you ever recall, you are drowning in one of those shallow blue celestial bodies. The colorless liquid invading your mouth, clawing its way to where your lungs rested, joyously filling and choking them. 

Sea roamers of all kinds flocked to your drowning corps, millions of eyes drinking in your defenseless form, from the beady black shark eyes to the yellow cyclops eye of a giant squid. A fraction of a second later and those beastes were sinking their fangs into your tender flesh, large tentacles wrapping themselves around an arm or leg and tugging it until it detached from the rest of your corps. 

But in the end, you always woke up, always resumed your day as if nothing had come to pass the night before, back then you knew that it was only a nightmare....however this time you weren't so sure. 

Out of all seven brothers you'd always dreaded Leviathan the most. You had nothing against his "otaku" like ways or his unkempt appearance. No, it was simply what he was that made you keep your distance. 

Yet the third born seemed to have other plans for you. Leviathan hates "normies", the average demons and humans that overpopulate the earth, mocking those like him who have hobbies and likings that are "abnormal" in their eyes, forcing them to live shameful lives of isolation. Due to the superiority of normies in all three realms Levi had never once come across someone as abnormal as himself...that was until the new exchange student had arrived. At first, they had seemed to be just like anyone else, a normal human with absolutely nothing extravagant about them. But as time progressed Levi became aware of just how similar the two of them were. She would spend hours talking to Mammon about the newest anime or the latest level of the video game she was playing. Her tone was always so excited and pure, eyes gleaming and radiating happiness. But Mammon never understood, he simply scuffed and made some degrading comment about her being a nerd or worst then Levi. 

Maybe it was then and there that Levi had decided you were the one. That if anybody angel, demon or human would ever understand him, ever be this alike to him, it would be you, it had to be.

You didn't want to go to his room. You'd avoided it like the plague after Mammon had described the bathtub bed and giant aquarium that drew its water from one of the Devildom's massive oceans. The avatar of greed had even vividly described how the ceiling tiles could pull away, reveling yet another large aquarium for a roof. 

It sounded worst than any haunted house, a place you would never dare venture into. But this time you didn't have a choice, try as you may you couldn't get out of this. 

Earlier that day you'd awaken to something cold and yet trailing down your visage. The mere texture of the substance had jolted you from your slumber, the fear of the colorless liquid had bounded itself deep into your body's habits and subconscious. Eyes dilate, body frozen, tears at the brink of falling. A moist want reached out and cupped your chin, turning your neck too briskly that you were sure you heard a few bones "pop". A squeal escaped your lips only to be met with an instantaneous "shh, be quiet".  Your (eye color) orbs landed on the third born, his eyes housed a sort of sick glee it matched the sadistic twisted smirk he dawned on his face. Maybe it was the adrenaline pumping through your veins, maybe it was the fact that you'd just awoken and your brain was still partly asleep. Either way, you could have sworn that Leviathan's teeth had somehow changed. They where long and jagged, bending at roots were they sprouted from his gums, to top off the horror thin lines of thick juicy crimson highlighted the tips and betweens of his shark life teeth. 

By now you had begun to sob, tears flowing non stop from your puffy red eyes. Your body was frozen you dared not move, vocal cords had given up and your tongue laid dead at the bottom of your mouth.

"Hello, princess sleep well?" Despite it seeming so innocent there was a sort of mocking laced into the question.

You noticed something in his other hand. A large familiar blue-colored plushy with a gasmask was suffocating in this grasp. That was a rare collectible you'd somehow managed to win from a Crain game back in the human world. You never slept a night without, feeling safe whenever you held it in your embrace. When you'd arrived in the Devildom you'd practically begged Lucifer to retrieve it for you. It had taken all so many tears and tantrums, in addition, to agree to take over his chores for the course of two months. The day the firstborn had carelessly tossed it to you, had probably been the second happiest day of your life. 

Levi let out a cruel giggle as he brought your prized possession closer to your face. His long nails dug into the fabric of its forehead as he dangled it before your eyes. "It's kinda cute, what show is it from?" This time round he sounded genuin, no inanity to be heard. Yet you didn't speak still petrified and stiff. 

One heartbeat

two heartbeats

three heartbeats--

"Fine! What you won't talk to me cause you think you're better than me?!" You shook your head slowly, the gesture barely being noticeable. Yet he picked up on it. He let out another string of offensive giggles "You're scared, right? Afraid the big bad sea monster will eat you?". Oh, God how desperately you wished you could run. Find Mammon or Lucifer and cling to them. To find any means to get away from this monster. 

His fingers fell from your face, he turned without saying another word and made his way to the door. As he opened it, he called behind his shoulder. " If you want it back, come to my room at midnight and come alone" He then slammed the door abandoning you to your thoughts and terrors. 

In short, that was why you were standing in front of the door that would lead you to your personal hell. You had no desire to step foot into his room and yet it was the sole means to retrieving your stuffed monster. Hesitantly you lifter your hand to knock, your finger had not touched the wood when the door creaked open and something slithered around your arm and dragged you into Leviathan's room. 

"I-I'm h-here know p-please give it back--"

Your back collided with the cold tiled floor. You let out a scream of pain before Levi's hand was shoved over your mouth. 

"Be quiet would ya?" His orange and purple orbs gazed into your wide mortified eyes. He let out a sigh and his gaze softened. "(Y/N)...I-I've never felt this way about anyone before...well maybe Ruri-chan and Sugar Frenzy's lead singer for a short period of time, oh and this one...nevermind! Look I-I feel like your something different okay. I g-guess that I have a little crush on you. Noting big alright! But-but what do you say (Y/N) will yo be mine? We'd make a great couple! We like the exact samethings, share practically the same opinions. We are meant to be one!" Slowly he lifted his hand from your mouth, an excited smile playing at his lips, his eyes sparkled with joy and exhilaration. Maybe if you'd have time to think this trough you would have felt bad about what you next words where. 

The second his hand was removed from your mouth you shouted.

"NO! No no no no no! Never! I can't I just can't your a freaking sea monster you--"

No sooner had the words left your mouth that you felt your head accelerate forward and then get smashed on the wet hard floor. The notion repeated again and again. You where sure you were bleeding, some sort of concussion must have formed, your sight was blurry and spots were dancing everywhere. 

"You stupid normi! You tricked me! I thought you were like me! That would actually love someone like me! You made me freaking fall in love with you, you bitch!" 

He twisted your head to the side and pushed your face into the floor. "You're scared of water aren't you? Your sacred of what lives in the water too right? Is that why you don't love me (y/n)? Cause I'm some sort of water freak? Well? Damit answer me!"

"Yes" you choked out "y-yes L-Leviathan, I'm scared of you!" He let out a furious sigh, his tail wrapped around your neck and hosted you up pressing you into the glass of the aquarium. An odd noise filled to room, something alike to buzzing yet..somehow very different. "You know what's funny (y/n)? I may be some sort of freak, but I'm also the only thing keeping you safe from the horrors behind the class." 

Something was swimming closer and closer, it's figure getting bigger and bigger. The teeth and large snout and hulking dorsal fins soon became evident what was coming toward you. You screamed, the noise echoed and bounced from one wall to the next. Your throat started to bleed and go raw, your mind blank with the loud ringing of alarms or was that your heart trying to break your ribcage and runaway?

As the monstrous shark swam only a few centimeters away from the glass, you could feel the sensitivity and life drain from your corpse, blackness taking over. You tried to remain awake to grip on to conscious, darkness was not friendly for it only showed the monsters face, the image burned permanently into your brain. 

As you slipped away into a stygian dream world, Levi brought your limp body to his chest cradling you gently and sweetly kissing your forehead. He waved a hand dismissively at his "pet" and watched for a second as it swam away. He lifted you up and brought you over to his bed. Placing you carefully inside. He placed your stuffy next to you and stood up admiring the aesthetic of your sleeping form. You were so gorgeous when you weren't scared or defensive. 

"You're mine (y/n), finally! I'm never going to let anyone else come near.. you never!"

[itstittycitybaby]

From the Ashes We are Born (Part 5)

a/n: take fucking two of posting this bc tumblr likes to fuck me over djdjjdjd. something that always bothered me with evey is the fact she left V?? I get not wanting to be stuck with a stranger for an entire year but you were the one who maced the cop. you decided to do it not v. he did not ask u to. now v torturing her there's not rlly a jusitifed excuse even though i can see why but it's still not justified either way. anyways as always enjoy.

Summary: V is away tending to his daily anarchist duties, which leaves you facing the wake of a treacherous thunder storm alone! Fluff ensues.

a/n 2: oh my god. i finally got the fucking gifs to work. had to navigate back and forth i stg I'm gonna dethrone the Tumblr god.

The music from your phone played throughout the deafening silence of the gallery. The infamously known masked criminal had left the gallery to commit his “righteous duties”. That’s how your friend, V, put it anyways. London was weeping over its people, at least, that’s what V had said once he heard the rain slapping the roof. Why can’t he just say it’s pouring, you thought to yourself as V fluttered about the house. “Dramatic as always V,” you snickered as you stood there watching him preparing to leave. You had been staying in the Shadow Gallery for a few months now. You weren’t very stoked to having to stay here for a year, but you had to. After all, you had sealed your fate after macing that cop. Even though you were upset about having to be stuck here away from your paints and gaming consoles, you understood. It was your decision to save him, he hadn’t asked you too.

  V’s underground home was deadly quiet as he got ready. The playful aura and laughter was now gone. It felt lonely and cold, something you guessed V had felt before you arrived. “Hey V,” you asked, fidgeting with the flowy skirt you wore. “Yes?” The man in question picked up his notorious black hat and put it on top of his head. He smoothed his hair and turned to you after looking in the mirror once more. “C-can I,” you started, cheeks flushing a bright pink, “Can I have a hug?” You felt awkward as you stood there playing with your skirt. V didn’t say anything as he stared at you. The smiling mask was unsettling to look at with the awkward air and embarrassment you felt. “Y-y'know what, forget I asked,” you stammered, starting to turn before throwing a “good luck and goodbye” kinda thing. You heard him sigh. V wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close to his chest. The scent of lemon and the smell of pine made you hum. Your arms snaked around his middle as you stood there, together in front of the T.V. You were thankful V couldn’t see your beet red face. His mask rested atop your head and you shivered at the rumble of his chest as he spoke. “Forgive me, I was taken aback is all.” You pulled away a bit looking at the eyes of his mask. “It’s alright, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” “Nonsense my dear, you have yet to do so.” Oh we definitely have a crush. You pulled away giving him a smile. “Be safe okay V? I mean it. If you come home almost dead on the porch again, so help me, your bullet wounds won’t be the thing killing you.” V laughed, the sound of it making your heart giddy. “Of course, mademoiselle.” The tension between the two you was thick, neither of you breaking eye contact. Feeling bold, you grasped V’s shoulder with your hand and stood on your tippy toes. “D-dove-,” he started. You interrupted him, though. Your soft lips placed themselves on the cheek of his mask. “A good luck charm,” you said softly as you pulled away. Giving V’s shoulder one last squeeze, you let him go. “I shall return soon,” V said as he left. You scolded him again about being reckless, and to be safe . Your heart sank as V’s echoing footsteps faded away leaving you standing alone and cold.

“ I love you baby , and if it’s quite alright I need you baby,” you sang as you grabbed the acrylic paint V had gotten for you. The clock read 1:54 on the wall while the rain continued to pour outside into the night. V had yet to return from doing god knows what in the streets. The smears of white and red paint were splattered across your arms and thighs. The scent of paint and V’s musky smell mixed together as you painted. Your arms and body tingled from the warm embrace he had given you. Thoughts of V took over as your paint brush made graceful strokes on the canvas. Did he even like you back? “As if,” you huffed. “He’s a man with taste.” But what about the pet names? And the flowers! He brings us flowers once he comes back.  “He’s british, being called love and darling is something normal here. The flowers don’t mean anything. It’s not like an obvious red rose or anything,” you told yourself. Stop daydreaming and just accept the fact that V doesn’t like you like in that way. 

 4:33 . “Where the hell is he,” you muttered. The rain continued to pour outside. Your canvas was set drying on the table and you flipped through your phone to entertain yourself.  Thank god for a VPN. You laughed at a funny meme as you scrolled through your feed. The lights flickered. You sucked in a breath and waited. CRASH! You jumped at the loud bang of thunder. Trying to calm yourself down, you continued to scroll through Twitter. The anxiety in your stomach wouldn’t stop eating away. V was out there in this godforsaken storm. What if he got hurt? What if he died? “Stop,” you told yourself sternly. “He’ll be fine.” 

Pop! Darkness embraced you as you sat there. The lights are out. Your breaths became shallow; the dim white light of your phone providing some kind of light source. “Calm down,” you whispered. “We’re gonna be fine.” Turning on your phone’s flashlight and using it as a torch, you crept to the bedroom. Loud crashes and noises made your hair stand up on end. Loud noises meant trouble. Loud noises meant a tantrum from your dad had started or something was here, waiting . Silence meant peace. Silence meant safety.

There was some sense of relief as you made it to the room and closed the door. Diving under the blankets, you whimpered as lightning struck. You curled into yourself and laid there. Hoping that the storm would pass, or V would come home. His scent on the sheets was the only solace you had. He will come home, eventually. You wished for V’s arms to hold and comfort you like the very few times he did before. Usually after a panic attack or when you were at the lowest of your lows. You wanted him to finish reading Lord of the Rings to you and help lull you to sleep. But V wasn’t here. V wasn’t going to hold you, or read you to sleep. He was out saving the country he so loved from it’s awful dictator. You’re weak. V wouldn’t want someone weak. He wants someone brave, and courageous. Someone who’s willing to die for what they love.

A sob bubbled up in your throat and tears threatened to escape from your eyes. You couldn’t breathe; you felt suffocated under the sheets, but if you moved you’d be open, vulnerable. Vulnerability is a weakness, being sad and scared is a weakness. How disgusting you must have looked. Hiding like a small child from the scary monster in their closet. How disgusted would V be if he found you here, under his sheets that were now wet with tears. We need to calm down. We need to stop crying. How pathetic we must look right now. He should’ve left you in that station to die. You deserve to die, you deserve to- .

“Love?” V’s voice broke your thoughts. He sounded so soft and gentle. You cursed at yourself for not noticing the door opening. Now he was going to see how pathetic you really were. V’s black boots slid across the floor when he made way into the room.You felt the bed dip beside you as you laid there. Your breath caught in your throat as you laid there silently under the sheets. Please go away, please don’t uncover the sheets. The cool air hit you as V pulled the sheets back. Cursing at your luck, you took a peak. Funny how creepy the smiling mask was in the dark. V’s hat was still perched on his head, you realized. His gloved fist was curled around something in his hand. A rose. 

“My songbird, what is the matter,” V asked as he took in your tear stricken face. The moonlight shone onto your beautiful face, revealing the wetness of your cheeks. How beautiful you were. V felt guilty once he saw you huddled under the covers, hiding from something. Could it be from yourself? “You’re late,” you croaked, “it’s almost 5 am.” “I apologize my dear, something went a bit south.” You didn’t say anything. Your eyes clenched shut and your teeth sunk into your bottom lip from trembling. V’s head cocked to the side, his lips pulled into a frown underneath the mask. He called out your name. The softness and caring tone made your eyes snap back at him. Suddenly, a crash of thunder hit. You flinched and wormed yourself underneath the sheets even more. V simultaneously realized, at that very moment, how terrified you were of thunder. He felt stupid as he sat there, staring at your shaking form. Of course you would try to seek out comfort whenever you were scared or moody. Hiding was your last resort if there was no comfort to be found. A hand stroked your head causing you to tense up.

The leather of the glove felt cool, and smooth. Brows drawn, you looked up at V. His right arm extended to you, with the gift he had brought. “V,” you whispered as you stared at him with shock. You gently wrapped your hand around the stem, taking it from his hands. “An apology for returning so late…and to ask for a courtship. With you,” V stammered. Even with the mask, you knew V was flustered. “It’s about time,” you joked, your voice a bit hoarse. “Ah yes, well you see I was so nervous and I-I've never-” You cut him off with your lips. The odd but smooth material of the mask’s lips felt foreign against your soft, warm ones. 

V didn’t even have to feel your lips to know they were the softest thing to exist. He just knew. You pulled away slowly, your cheeks warming up a bit. You were bashful, a gentle smile swept across your lips. “Thank you for the rose, it’s beautiful.” “My beautiful maiden, it is quite dark in here. You could not be quite sure of such a thing.” “I’ll kiss you again, V.” You giggled, as he shut up.

“Close your eyes and keep them closed,” V said. You looked at him confused, “Why?”  “I have another gift.” A brow was raised in his direction. He just gestured at you, waiting patiently. “You’re acting pretty sus not gonna lie, but ok.” Your eyes fluttered shut. Time seemed to pass by awfully slow as you waited. Not to mention, the dark that encased you as your lids closed. “V?” “I’m right here love.” You heard something untying and felt something being placed on the bed. How badly you wanted to open your eyes, but you would not betray V like that. The smoothness of his gloves grasped both of your cheeks softly. His fingers stroked them and held cupped your cheeks. You screwed your eyes shut, fighting the urge to open them. What was he doing? Your breath stopped at a halt; his breath was on your lips. He’s going to kiss me! His mask is off! You swallowed nervously as you waited. That’s when you felt it. 

V’s lips were rough and felt scarred. The texture was very different from your own, but you didn’t care. In fact, you cherished it. A sigh escaped your lips as your fingers clutched his cloak, pulling him closer. Teeth nibbled at your lips playfully. V’s scent filled your senses and you felt your head starting to become dizzy. You almost whined once his lips pulled away from yours. Eyes still closed, you waited for the signal to open them again. Your ears perked up as you heard the rustling of cloth and a little grunt from V. “Thank you darling, you can open your eyes again.” There were little dots and squiggles as you opened your eyes, moving in the air. You were a little sad to see the mask on again, but knew better than to press. V would give you the world, but he was still insecure about his skin. You were curious to see him, especially after the glimpse of damaged skin you had seen on his hands. But, you knew better than to ask, let alone force him to show you.

V placed his hat on the bedside table next to him. He was surprised to find you had fallen asleep, though it was quite late. He quietly shimmied out of his cloak and set his knives down on the nightstand. A sigh escaped his lips as he got into more comfortable clothing, followed by discarding his gloves on the table beside him. You had wrapped V around your finger; encasing him with your humour and your kindness. He was at your mercy. You had captivated the man who thought he could no longer feel love. Oh how wrong he was. V wrapped his arms around you and held you close. His art swelled a bit at the sleepy hum you gave him. Your head rested lightly on V’s chest and his arms snuggled you tightly. Your soft snores filled the room once again and V couldn’t believe how lucky he was. Eventually, the masked vigilante fell asleep; the comfort of your love and beauty keeping him warm at night.

[retirementhomecollab]

☾ the witching hour

☾ decision: hallway

☾ warnings: f!reader, alcohol mention, drug mention, sfw shirtlessness

☾ word count: 2.4k

“What the hell?” you grumble, running headfirst into a bare chest. “God, get a shirt.”

Your eyes widen. “Shut up.” Your eyes graze the body in front of you, sizing up the half-naked firefighter. There’s no hiding your smile as you tease, “Didn’t know you had it in you, Atsumu.” 

Atsumu leans in, hooking an arm around your neck. You turn your head, cheek squishing against his smooth chest. “No fuckin’ way,” he murmurs against you, “I didn’t know you were coming tonight.” 

You look up at him, chin resting in place of your cheek. “You didn’t tell me you were invited.” Your lower lip juts out, and you think for a split second that he might’ve missed you as much as you missed him, but you let the thought go as quickly as it came. 

“I forgot you knew Bo and them!” he says defensively, arm still around you like he isn’t planning on letting you go any time soon. “We could’ve coordinated.” 

Your heart skips a beat at the thought. You stick your tongue out, eyes squeezing shut. “Maybe next year,” you try, hoping it’ll get you the reaction you want. 

He laughs and you giggle, satisfied with his response as you get dragged to the counter. “Have you had a drink yet?” 

You shake your head. “Not yet,” you mumble, glancing around from his hold on you. “I just kinda got here.” 

He stops the two of you in front of the row of bottles, reaching for the tequila bottle. “Shots?” 

Your eyes widen as you frown. “Tequila… ” You gag, the strong scent taking you back to barely a month ago to a friend’s birthday party. Atsumu had been there too - drawing your hair back and handing you water as your head hung over a toilet at almost 4 am. 

“Fine,” he teases, swallowing down his smile. “Vodka? I’ll mix it real well for you. ‘Samu taught me how the other day.” He puffs his chest out a little and you fight the laugh bubbling up. 

You heave a sigh dramatically, rolling your eyes as you reach for a cup. “Fill ‘er up, sir.” 

He snaps his red suspenders loosely hung over his shoulders, taking your cup with a grin on his lips. You watch as he pours a good amount of vodka in your glass before mixing in just a little Sprite. 

Just as you're about to argue with him, a voice calls from behind you. 

“No way! Look who it is.” 

Your jaw drops as you catch sight of your club member. “No way, what’re you doing here?” you asked excitedly. 

“I could ask you the same,” he says, tipping his chin at Atsumu. “Not surprised to see the both of you here though, not gonna lie.” 

The heat rushes to your cheeks, and it’s taking every ounce of energy in you not to gauge Atsumu’s reaction. Instead, you beam at your junior, leaning towards him. “I almost wasn’t gonna show.” 

“Well why not?” Atsumu interjects, looking at you offendedly. 

“What do you mean, ‘why not?’” you ask back. “You didn’t even tell me about it!” 

“I was gonna text you eventually!” 

“Oh were you now?” you taunt, shaking your head at him and lifting your nose up. “Highly unlikely.” 

He presses his index finger against your forehead, poking you away from him. “Shut up.” 

“I don’t think I will,” you bite back, grabbing the bottle of Sprite. “There’s no way ‘Samu taught you how to make this, by the way. He’d make me a much better drink.” 

Atsumu leans against the counter. “There’s not a single person in this room that would treat you better than I would.” 

You clamp your lips together, your heart stuttering and almost stopping (or so you swore). The club member clears his throat, reaching for an empty cup. “I’ll catch the two of you guys at the meeting on Monday?” 

Atsumu salutes him with two fingers as you nod quickly, closing the Sprite bottle. As soon as he’s out of sight, you glare at Atsumu. 

“Look what you did,” you huff, setting the cup against your lips. “You literally drove that poor kid away.” 

“That was all you, sweetheart,” he says, pouring himself a shot. “He’ll be fine. Come on, do a shot with me.” 

He hands you the tiny red cup - you didn’t even know they make solo cups this small - and you reach for it reluctantly, as if it’s pure poison. You clink your cups together, and just as you down your shot, an arm swings around your neck. 

“Well, well, well! Nice to see you guys together, doing shots without the rest of us.” 

Atsumu chokes on his drink. “What the hell, Bo? You tryna kill me?” 

“Maybe, just ‘cause you haven’t Venmo’d anyone yet.” 

You look at Bokuto for a split second, and he stares back at the two of you, dead serious. A minute later he breaks out into a grin, slapping the two of you on the back. “I’m kidding, lovebirds! Have all the drinks you want! It’s on me!” 

You struggle to steady yourself, already feeling the alcohol rushing through your blood. He laughs heartily and stalks off to find another friend to bother. You giggle, eyes trailing after him. 

“Man, he’s so… ” Atsumu sighs, “so much.” He looks at you for a moment, eyes scanning your face. You feel hot under his gaze, tugging at your collar like you’re suffocating just standing there. “You’re already tipsy?” 

You shake your head quickly. “Another.” You’re eager to start feeling it already, maybe so it’d make seeing all of these other people more bearable. You hold your cup out expectantly, and he nods, filling his up right after. You knock the cups together and down its contents in record time, the liquid searing your throat. 

The two of you hiss in unison, scrunching your faces. 

You glance over at Atsumu, who’s taking a sip from his toxic cocktail he made for you not seconds ago. You stick your neck out at him. “You’re chasing a shot with … more alcohol?” 

“It’s all Sprite anyways,” he mutters nonchalantly, glancing over his shoulder towards the living room. You follow his line of sight for a moment - who’s he looking at? - before looking back at him. His eyes light up as he swings his arm around you again. You feel it flex around your neck and you fight the shiver crawling up your spine. 

“I see Suna and them, let’s go say hi.” 

Your stomach flips. It’s not like you don’t know his friends or anything - in fact, you know them well. With his arm around you though … you’re not too sure what to make of it. 

Your eyes flit up to him singing along, “She fill my mind up with ideas,” holding his cup at arm’s length as he tips his chin at his friends. He glances down and smiles at you, pressing you closer to him. Any closer and you think you might choke, so you wiggle a little under his hold. 

“Cast a spell on him tonight?” Atsumu’s twin asks as the two of you near the couch. 

You grin loosely, shifting your attention to him as Atsumu talks to Suna. You’re trying to shift towards Osamu but Atsumu’s arm around you is like a vice, keeping you glued to his hip. Your head’s starting to feel heavy with the Malibu rushing straight up to it, sweat beginning to prickle at your hairline. 

“If I were him,” you tease, “I would wanna spend all night with me too.” 

Atsumu looks at you quickly, as if he’d been listening the whole time. “Shouldn’t it be the other way around?” 

You pretend to think about it for a moment, giggles spilling from your lips. 

“There she goes,” Suna sighs, a slight smile toying on his lips. “How many shots did you guys even take?” 

Atsumu’s brows knit together. “Maybe four? I don’t remember.” 

You start to laugh for absolutely no reason, your limbs beginning to feel like jelly. Your head lolls back against Atsumu’s arm and he rolls his lips under his teeth, doing absolutely nothing to hide his smile. 

“Oh man, you guys,” you start to drawl, unsure of what you were even wanting to say. “You guys are so funny, you know that?” You turn and blink up at Atsumu, your lips spreading into a smile that starts to hurt your cheeks. “And you,” you begin, “you’re so - ”

“Alright,” Atsumu says quickly, eyes shifting back to his friends as he quickly swings you around. “Let’s go get some water and some air, hm?” 

You nod, your hair catching against the crook of his arm as you stumble to keep up with him. He finally lets go of your shoulders and reaches for your hand instead, quickly grabbing you a glass of water with his other hand. 

He sets it up to your lips and you drink like you’ve spent the past year dehydrated. You swipe at your lips quickly, mumbling a quiet, “Thanks.” 

He smiles as he pulls you out into the hall and you inhale deeply, leaning against the wall right outside of the apartment. Your nose scrunches when you smell a distinct mix of curry and weed, wondering if it would’ve been better to suffer with a blend of cheap, strong cologne and ethanol instead. He leans against the wall next to you, sighing heavily as he laces his fingers through yours. 

“Can we go outside for a bit?” you squeak out. Even the hall starts to feel stuffy with him right next to you. Are you going to remember this in the morning? Better yet, are the two of you never going to talk about whatever the hell this is ever again? 

You sigh at the thought as he peels himself off the wall. His brows pinch together and you think about how it’s absolutely endearing, before visibly shaking your head, desperate to pull yourself together. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, concerned. “Do you need more water?” 

You nod slowly, swallowing roughly. Your eyes flit down to your interlocked hands and you tug on him a bit, waiting for him to lead the way to the elevators. 

He slips his other hand in his pocket, steps slow and tentative to match your pace as you round the corner and past the double doors. He reaches for the down button and you wait in silence, your heart hammering against your ribcage. Your entire body feels heavy and you want to lean against him, so as soon as the elevator doors open and close, you seize the opportunity to let your head fall to his shoulder again. 

You watch the goosebumps start to creep up his skin. “Aren’t you cold?” you mumble. 

When he stills for a moment, you look up at him. You figure the bright red dusting his cheeks is just the alcohol, and you shift your attention back to the numbers dropping from 6 to 4. 

The elevator shakes and your eyes go wide. You lift your head quickly, letting go of his hand to grip his bicep. It shakes once again and you fall against him, before it stops moving altogether, the lights shutting off. 

“What’s going on?” he asks quickly, looking up at the ceiling. When the lights don’t come back on for a minute, when it doesn’t even move for a minute, he presses the emergency signal button. 

The situation is instantly sobering, especially when there’s no one on the other end of the receiver. 

“Hello?” He presses the red button again before looking back at you. “Are you okay?” 

You nod quickly. “Are you?” You’re no longer struggling to get the words out, but it wouldn’t be a complete lie that you weren’t feeling at least a little buzzed still. 

He hums, brows furrowing as he presses the button again. “Goddamn it,” he grumbles, pulling out his phone. It lights up in the darkness and you squint painfully as you watch him carefully. 

“Hey ‘Samu,” he says, pressing it up against his ear. “Yeah, we’re stuck in the elevator. Can you get somebody? Like get Bo to call maintenance or something?” 

You shiver as the air slips through the doors of the elevator and rub your hands over your arms, stepping back to lean against the wall. He joins your side like he had in the hallway, slipping his phone into his back pocket. 

“We should’ve just stayed in that stinky hallway,” you grumble. 

He snorts. “It was almost 3 am anyways. They would’ve started kicking everybody out.” 

You hum as you sigh deeply, your shoulders beginning to feel heavy again. You wonder if he’s feeling just as nervous as you are at this moment. 

It’s almost like he can read your mind when he hesitantly murmurs, “I really hope you’re not going to forget any of this tomorrow morning,” as if you could, “but I’ve liked you for a while now.” 

Your heart crawls its way up your throat. “I,” you stutter, “um, me too.” You shift awkwardly, looking up at him the best you can in the darkness. 

He breathes out a relieved laugh. “You’re kidding. What was it, the firefighter costume? I know I look good tonight - ” 

You groan, pressing your palm flat against his temple and pushing him away from you. “God, I hate you.” 

His hands reach for your hips greedily and you shiver again. “Not what you said a minute ago,” he teases, pulling you towards him. 

“Oh, shut up,” you mumble under your breath, shifting your eyes away from him. You can barely make out his outline in the darkness but you can hear him shuffle just a little closer towards you. 

His fingers find his way to your chin, lifting it slightly. Your pulse rings in your ears as you feel his breath fan your lips, his warmth drawing you in. 

The elevator shakes and the lights turn back on. Atsumu stares at you with wide eyes as you jump in your spot, startled with the sudden movement. The doors open on the fourth floor, and familiar group of farm animals stare at you tiredly.  

Osamu looks back and forth between the two of you, sighing heavily. 

“Do us all a favor and take the stairs next time.” 

Pick a different room: > Go to the closed bedroom. > Go to the open bedroom. > Go to the balcony. > Go to the kitchen. > Go to the bathroom. > Go to the living room.

[hoodwinkd1]

Your Eyes Whispered Ch 1-3

I originally posted this story on AO3, but wanted to bring it to my Tumblr now that I’m back on here. Enjoy!

Fic Summary:  After Eris becomes High Lord, there's only one thing on his mind, now that his father is dead and he can finally leave his horrible façade behind. A slow burn romance featuring the misunderstood prince of flame and his mate, a powerful teacher who can't seem to step out of her small town life.

Ch 4-7 here.

Chapter 1: I was enchanted to meet you

It's no small thing, murdering your father in cold blood.

Not that anyone, even Beron, was surprised.

Eris looked at the bloody sword in his hand and then at his father's corpse, lying on the ground at his feet. He closed his eyes as the power of the Autumn Court rushed over him like a tidal wave of fire.

The new High Lord knew that he would have to deal with the consequences of his coup today. But tomorrow, after the dust settled and he dealt with his treacherous brothers, he knew exactly where he needed to be.

The night turned into a swarm of activity as the castle reacted to Beron's death. Advisors fought for a seat at the table, servants spread the rumors like wildfire, his mother gently took him to bathe as it all became too much. Eris slept that night, without terrifying dreams for the first time in centuries

--- He woke to the sunlight filtering through the trees. He had to leave now, before anyone could find him and monopolize his time any futher.

Eris winnowed as soon as he was dressed, landing on the outskirts of a village that had seen better days. He had only been here once in his life, ninety-five year prior, decades before Amarantha took over. His father had sent him and one of his younger brothers to several towns in the Autumn Court as part of their duties. This one had been a bustling center of trade and power, known for its capabilities in producing talented Fae children and training them in magic.

Eris remembered his utter boredom as he watched the parade put on in his honor. His brother Marick had scoffed at the idea of watching children perform small magic tricks, but Beron had insisted they attend to find any who were powerful enough to warrant interest from him. His father always had a nasty habit of stealing children away from their parents to become part of his court.

Eris also remembered the moment his life shifted. As the children moved to the center of town square, beginning their show, his eyes drifted slightly to the left.

And landed on hers. The teacher.

The mating bond snapped, harder and faster than anything.

If she felt it, she gave no indication. Her eyes returned to her students.

Eris swore that this bond, this life-changing connection, would not be ruined like every other good thing in his life. He shoved all the overwhelming feelings and instincts deep into himself, securing his facade into place. The Autumn Court would never know another side to him besides the arrogant, powerful Heir.

But now his father was dead. He was the most powerful Fae in the Court.

Eris wasn't sure how he would find her, or if she even remained in this town. Or, Cauldron damn him, if she was even alive.

This town had suffered. Almost every building showed signs of abandonment or violence and he could sense that the number of Fae in the area had been more than cut in half.

He wandered aimlessly for a bit, unsure. He was terrified to reach inside himself and attempt to tug on the bond, anxious he would find nothing on the other end. Finally, after passing yet another empty house with smashed windows, he pulled himself together and grabbed for the bond.

Gasping as the feeling rose up from within him and overwhelmed his mind, Eris began walking, not entirely in control of his body. He walked by one block, then another, before stopping in front of a one-story building. It stood out as one of the few that looked well-maintained, with all its windows intact and even a flower bed next to the door.

His mate. Alive. In this house. His hand knocked before his mind processed the enormity of emotions at this moment.

One breath passed. She opened the door.

“Can I help you?” she frowned, wary of strangers. He took in everything about her, from her dark hair, slipping out of a frizzy bun to her comfortable clothing, probably pyjamas.

“My apologies,” he started. “I--you surely don’t remember me.”

She turned her head slightly, brown eyes taking in his face. “Have we met? I prefer straight answers from strange males at my door.”

“My name is Eris. I promise I wish you no harm.” Her eyes widened.

“My lord, you must forgive me,” she responded, sharpening her tone to hide her surprise. “It’s not often that royalty appears on my doorstep.”

Eris noted her tense muscles and reluctance to let him in. This was not a female who trusted.

“Forgive me for showing up uninvited. I have a...personal matter to discuss with you and I would rather do it in private.” He attempted a reassuring tone. “I know you have no reason to trust me, but please,” he trailed off, unsure what to possibly say to convince her. His horrible reputation probably preceded him.

She looked him in the eye. “Do you know who I am?”

“I only know that you teach children. I was here for a demonstration, decades ago.”

Shockingly, she stepped back and opened the door wider.

“Certainly, you could have blasted through my wards and yet you chose to knock,” she explained, gesturing him in with a wave of her hand. “How bad can this personal matter be?”

Eris walked in and saw a large, empty room with a mirror on one wall. She led the way over to a table next to a small kitchen. They each chose a chair, then looked awkwardly at the other.

“Can I get you something--”

“No, please, sit down,” he interrupted.

She sat. And pinned those piercing eyes on his.

“What’s your name?” he asked, his soul dying for the answer.

“Rhiannon.” And it was like the entire world shifted, as if he couldn’t imagine any name more beautiful.

“Rhiannon,” he said softly. “I have no good words to say this. When I was visiting, all those years ago, I saw you as the children gave their performance.” He hesitated.

“Lord Eris, I would rather you say it bluntly,” she jumped in. “To be quite honest, I’m extremely worried at the moment.”

“Please, just Eris,” he corrected. “And yes. You’re right. Of course. Well, I felt the mating bond that day. With you.”

If only his enemies could see him now. Keir would keel over of laughter watching him stumble through a simple conversation.

Rhiannon had gone completely still. She stared at him, as if waiting for the punchline. He shrugged.

“You did say bluntly.”

She stood suddenly, stalking over to the kitchen. For some reason unbeknownst to Eris, she began making a pot of tea. He waited.

As the kettle whined, she waved her hand, directing two mugs out of the cabinet and onto the table. Of course. The teacher of magic children would have to have magic as well.

He said nothing, still, as she brought over the tea. Rhiannon poured herself a cup and then watched him do the same.

She broke the silence as he took his first sip. “You’re being serious.”

“I would never joke about something like this,” Eris remarked.

“Why now? That had to have been, what, a century ago?” she demanded. Her dark skin seemed to glow in the daylight from the window above her head.

He looked down at his cup. “I killed my father yesterday. I didn’t think it safe to acknowledge you before that.”

“You---what?!” she yelped, almost dropping her cup. “I said blunt, not absolutely earth-shattering.”

He choked back a laugh. “My apologies. I’ve had a stressful few weeks. But truly, I worried what my father and brothers might do to a partner of mine and never would wish to put you in any danger. So now, at least, I know that threat is handled.”

She considered this. “I have no idea what I’m feeling right now.”

“I understand. More than you now,” Eris acknowledged. “I don’t have any expectations of you. I only hope that we might spend time together, getting to know one another.”

“Get to know you. The High Lord. As my...mate,” she echoed. “I could, I think I would be fine with that.”

“As whatever you want,” Eris disputed. “As I said, I don’t expect a thing.”

“Then as friends. And privately, at least at first.” Rhiannon looked him over. “You’ll have to come here, during hours I’m not teaching or with others.”

He couldn’t believe she had responded positively. Eris would have agreed to any terms she set.

“When can we start?”

She smiled at his obvious enthusiasm. "Tomorrow night. And you're bringing dinner."

Eris couldn't control the huge grin at her smile. This female would probably ruin him and his reputation. Not that he minded in the slightest.

"Anything you want."

Chapter 2: not where the story ends

TW: Mentions of past sexual assault and panic attacks. Nothing graphic or specific, but please do not read if this will harm you. I"ll put XXX before and after any mentions if you need to avoid.

So the High Lord of the Autumn Court had shown up at her door. And thrown her life entirely off-course by announcing they were mates.

Rhiannon lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to sort her thoughts and feelings into some sort of organized pattern. Her little two-story house and work studio felt suffocating, too small for all the chaos in her head. Throwing off the covers, she grabbed a pair of boots and a coat, winnowing to the street.

The town of Malefic, once a bustling city, stood quiet that night. Rhia wasn't surprised. After five decades of Amarantha, the population had decreased to only a couple thousand. She was relatively sure she could name almost every single Fae, and none of them were night owls.

She strolled down her street, aiming for a field of wheat at the edge of town. It helped to be in a wide, open space where she could see the entire night sky.

Eris Vanserra, the oldest son of the cruel Beron Vanserra, had shown up at her door. One of the most callous and powerful males in Prythian had knocked on her door and awkwardly asked to come in. And he had been, well, sweet. Kind. Attentive.

He'd explained some of his reputation, claiming that his father only valued power from his sons. He told her so much about his history, his regrets, his shame. And she had actually shared some of her life as well. The pull between them had opened her lips, despite her brain screaming at her to think rationally about all the red flags.

Because, unfortunately, even less powerful and less feared males could do so much damage. A fact Rhia knew all too well.

So many citizens had fled or sought aid from the capitol when Amarantha took over. Many others were killed or thrown into those horrendous camps. But Rhia and several other powerful Fae came together and warded the town. They could only cover a square mile, but it was enough at first. For twenty seven years, they maintained the wards, grew their own food, raised children to fight, and lived in fear, but not terror. They had all appreciated how much worse life could be.

Until a group of males snuck through the wards. To this day, Rhia never found out how they managed to get in.

The town woke the next morning to ransacked supplies and distasteful graffiti. The adults breathed a sigh of relief, for they knew how much worse it could be.

XXX

Sofine Linswell woke to her best friend sobbing on her bathroom floor.

Rhia woke to her best friend picking her up off the bathroom floor and hugging her close.

One of the males, as the group had split up, had stumbled upon a small, two-story house and work studio, probably looking for supplies like his companions. Unfortunately, this male found a sleeping, vulnerable female and did what any terrible, depraved soul would do.

Rhia hadn't been able to sleep in her own bed for months, and even now still had nights where she couldn't sleep in the small bedroom.

It had been decades and her life had returned back to almost normal, especially after Feyre Cursebreaker saved the day. She could even have casual sex again, but only with males she knew didn't have more than a drop of magic in them. The fear of being forced to lie still, struggling against invisible bounds, made it difficult for her to trust anyone with more power than she had.

Sofine, her best friend of more than a century, had talked her through many panic attacks over the years before they figured out her aversion to powerful males. Luckily, their little town saw almost no newcomers and Rhia knew her strength could dominated any of their neighbors. Not that she ever needed to, but the thought comforted her.

XXX

But the Cauldron had the most fucked-up sense of humor.

Eris Vanserra had shown up at her door. A male that had infinite more magic and power than she did.

Worse, he was awkward and kind and vulnerable with her. Her stupid brain couldn't just write him off or send him packing.

He hadn't been close enough to touch her once last night, so Rhia had forgotten about her issues for a few hours. But as soon as she closed her eyes, her mind drifted to what it would be like to lie next to him and all the darkness came rushing back.

She hadn't told Sofine yet. The night seemed like a dream, like an unbelievable story you tell yourself to fall asleep.

Eris had given her a piece of parchment before he left and told her to write if she wanted him to come over again. He'd been so obviously nervous that she would never write to him that she'd smiled and told him to keep an eye on it. Yet now, under the midnight sky, she was overwhelmed at the idea of taking a step forward.

She sat in the wheat until the sky started turning pink. Another day of teaching, lunch with Sofi, and cleaning her house.

Winnowing back to her kitchen, Rhia started making a pot of tea. Only caffeine would make this day run smoothly.

Waiting for the boil, she glanced over at the table and saw the piece of parchment glowing. Confused, she went to pick it up.

I apologize if this is intrusive. You probably think I'm incredibly desperate (because I am incredibly desperate). But I just wanted to say that I will take any part of you that you would give me. If you're willing to put me out of my pathetic misery and give me a chance.

She laughed. The rumors simply could not be true. This male couldn't be the same as the cruel, misogynistic bastard that tortured his brother's lover. She couldn't say how, but she knew that for certain.

So, as the sun spilled over the horizon and another peaceful day started, she wrote back.

Chapter 3: passing notes in secrecy

Eris couldn't believe it. It simply couldn't be true.

His advisors, his friends (well, all two of them), even his mother had commented on his mood. He was smiling, often unprompted, and making jokes. The palace full of nobles had no idea what to do with a High Lord that made jokes.

And he was getting his ass kicked in training. Gerwin, one of the two friends, looked down at where he lay on the floor.

"It really shouldn't be that easy for me to take down a High Lord," he grumbled. "First there are rumors of you acting like a fool in meetings and now this?"

Eris stood, pretending to brush some dust off his shirt. "No one thinks I'm acting like a fool. Just differently than my father." The last word got stuck in his throat on the way out, dampening his mood a bit. All of Prythian knew what he did and yet he still hadn't told the actual story to anyone. It felt like a confession, proof his guilt, an irreversible action that might suddenly inspire his Court to abandon him. Although he knew rationally that was unlikely (he had widespread support that came from not being a violent, evil bastard), Eris still felt like he could lose his throne at any second for any reason.

He faced off with Gerwin again, focusing and actually winning the fight.

Eris raced to his chambers after his training session, at a speed more fit to an energized child than the most powerful male in the Autumn Court. He threw open his bedroom door and scrambled to open the top drawer of his nightstand. There sat a glowing piece of parchment.

She actually wrote back, he marveled. Even though she had been writing back at least once a day for the past week, each message still brought Eris a flash of joy and shock.

Their first interaction had been tense and awkward. Her body language had clearly indicated she was uncomfortable with him in her home, but she hadn't kicked him out. The conversation was good, great even, but stayed to safe topics like her town's endeavors and his fumbling advisors. Eris fully believed he had thoroughly fucked up this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and would never hear from her again. Except she kept writing.

I hope you understand this taxation argument, because I surely cannot. Some of us were meant only for brute force and fighting, not percentages and financial sheets. He had complained about one of his endless meetings yesterday, where the Financial Minister had almost burst a blood vessel when Eris suggested taxing the rich more than the poor. Outrageous.

He grabbed a pen and chewed on it thoughtfully. His responses were finely crafted to keep the conversation flowing easily and show off some of his stellar personality. His mother's voice, kindly accusing him of acting like an adolescent, floated through his mind. It was rather childish to spend this much time thinking about a female and wooing her, something he'd never really worked hard at before.

I'm glad to know you claim expertise on brute force, since apparently I no longer can. My friend just destroyed me in a training session, in a way that was very embarrassing for me and unbecoming of a High Lord. If I had more friends, I might even accuse him of treason just to avoid my utter defeat again. How are your students?

---

Did he have some sort of magic that could figure out her schedule? He must. There was no other explanation for how Eris managed to send her a message right before she had an important commitment. Rhia had shown up to her classes, a town hall meeting, and now dinner with Sofine with blushing cheeks and an unmanageable smile.

"Ha! There it is! That silly expression you keep getting," Sofine accused, pointing a finger at Rhia's dark red cheeks. "I've been complaining about my leaky sink for two minutes and you sit there staring off into the distance."

"Sorry, sorry, it's just been a long week," Rhia mumbled, turning to grab some bread off the counter so Sofine would stop trying to read her expression. "Classes, students, you know how it gets."

"I surely don't! Students make you groan and complain; this is like....this is more of..." Sofine trailed off, trying to put a finger on what could have her friend so distracted. "Well, honestly, if I didn't know you better, I'd say this was more of a schoolgirl crush." Rhia had no response to that, so she stayed quiet. Sofine gasped, her mind clearly spinning to fill in the gaps,

Maybe staying quiet was going to get her in more trouble. "Sofi, I love you so dearly, but I clearly don't have a 'schoolgirl crush' and I'm not sure how I would've managed to keep that a secret from you." Rhia hoped it would be enough. They were both over a century year old and yet sat here gossiping about crushes. Absurd.

Luckily, her friend let it go and the rest of the conversation was blessedly normal. After finishing a bottle of sparkling wine together, the females decided to call it a night. They both had the day off tomorrow and had huge plans to attend the local farmer's market.

Humming to herself, Rhia began to slowly clean the glasses off the table. Her thoughts trailed away from the town and towards the capitol. Eris. She hadn't written back to him yet.

Perhaps writing to the High Lord of the Autumn Court who was also your mate after half a bottle of wine wasn't the smartest idea in the world. Rhia hushed that logical voice in her brain and grabbed the paper to reread his response. Silly, how such a little joke about a rough training session caused her to blush again.

There was no second-guessing, no careful editing, no worry as she wrote back. The High Lord taken down by a simple training instructor? I would have loved to see it. My students are little terrors as always, though none are powerful enough yet to spar with me. I suppose I'll go through a similar embarrassment when they are.

His response came so quickly. Was he sitting in bed, just waiting for her to write him back? She giggled at the image, then giggled at her giggle because she wasn't the type of Fae to giggle normally. And the word giggle sounded funny.

My pride is quite grateful you weren't there to see it happen. A second later, as if an afterthought, another line appeared. And if you ever actually would like to see me, all you have to do is ask.

Her insides warmed. She blushed, yet again, at the shameless flirting. But at the same time, her brain kicked into overdrive at the idea that this was more than letter writing and idle flirting. The High Lord wanted to see her and she wanted to see him, a terrifying thought that would normally send her running. Luckily, the wine kept her mind open and her words flowing.

Maybe I only want to see you get kicked beaten knocked around in training.

Scratch that sentence I don't think I'm making sense. I'm not sure what I'm trying to say.

"Oh shit," Rhia cursed at her confusion. The wine certainly wasn't making anything clearer.

Let me try again. I'd like to see you in my kitchen again.

In your kitchen? How specific. I'll be there whenever you tell me. And, please correct me if I'm wrong, but I believe you would still enjoy watching someone beat me up in a sparring ring. Eloquence fails us all sometimes, it's quite alright.

Aren't High Lord supposedd to be busy? Her handwriting had started looking noticeably sloppy as her eyes began to droop. I have no plans tomorrow night.

Excellent. Tomorrow night. And no, we simply appear busy while others do all the work. It's a very simple and fun job.

I'm going to bed. Otherwise I might make more of a fool of myself. Rhia doubted that Eris would mind some sloppy handwriting and confusing messages, but she knew worse things might come out if they stayed up late in the night, writing on this stupid piece of paper.

---

Eris couldn't believe it. He was seeing her again tomorrow, technically today since midnight was long passed. He closed his eyes, feeling something that felt a bit like redemption and forgiveness grow within him.