#my poor stoic tired well-meaning child

[c4rdsharp]

❝ you’re unbearably lame. ❞ words spoken from behind a closet door , of course. ❝ most men cheat on their wives or participate in human trafficking in their spare time. and what do you do , gandor — READ ? ❞

     If it were anyone else, panic would’ve ensued. Screams, shouting, accusations. The loud bang of swinging doors & screeching hinges, the gleam of knife’s blade or a cocked gun’s barrel bearing down the face of the assailant. All these things, the natural drama of every day life, would’ve been well - warranted spectacles.      However, the person in question did no such things, staying resolutely calm. Luck wasn’t the type who welcomed people into his bedroom -- in fact, he was rather cagey about who gets to enter and who doesn’t. It wasn’t like him to give an exception to unknown visitors. Of course, most unknown visitors weren’t a 14 - year - old capo hiding behind Luck Gandor’s closet door, complaining of his everyday habits. Rather than annoyance, he was almost amused.      Almost.      Regardless of the intent or the perpetrator, it was still an invasion of his privacy. If Dazai had not elected to speak, if Luck had found him unsuspectingly . . . who knew how fast Luck’s reaction speed to stop himself from shooting would’ve been. A force of habit is a poor excuse for shooting a child, even if said child was a criminal to begin with.      Not that Dazai could tell what Luck’s reaction would’ve been anyway. He’s noticed the slight frustration on the young man’s face whenever they’ve interacted -- it was apparent he wasn’t used to the stoic expressions Luck’s had around all his face, the indifferent stares of a thousand unpredictable eyes. His own father was that sort of man : strict, disciplined, unyielding.      Almost rather unlike the Port Mafia, now that I think about it.      Luck strode over to his closet door, and slid the partition open -- revealing the young boyish face of the Port Mafia’s demon prodigy. He met it back with a cool, disinterested stare, brown eyes lacking light.      “ and, do you make it a habit of holing up in other people’s homes? you may find my habits unbearably boring, but it’s very clear you don’t have much of your own if this is your idea of fun. “ His voice was harsh, but not harsh in the way a capo’s voice ought to have been, seeing another syndicate’s operative spying on his personal wares. Rather, he sounded too much like a father scolding his son for some poor attempt at mischief. Exasperated, tired, yet somewhat good - humored. Almost bordering along the lines of sarcastic.      “ and i sincerely doubt most people do as you say. some may be prone to debts & addictions, to be sure, but human trafficking isn’t something ordinary people do as a hobby. and, infidelity is a habit of the weak ; i am not weak. “      well, in terms of my devotion. strength comes in a variety of forms.      Of course, that didn’t mean Luck was going to specify. Better if Dazai knew less than what he already should know. Frankly, Luck thought he was a simple enough person to understand. Why must people overcomplicate him so much?      He crossed his arms and tilted his head, looking over the bandage - wrapped mafioso head - to - toe in what could be discerned of the shadows. “ . . . do you plan to spend the rest of the evening inside this cramped space, or would you like to come out? if you’d want, i could make you some tea. at the very least, you could do me the honor of acting as a proper house guest should, Dazai - san. “

@longerhuman

[bonesif]

But in your heart, you just want to be a good little soldier. It's all you know how to be.

Enter commander Farron Vamirel, the painted phoenix.

[ from @exilethegame ]

[s2pdoktopus]

What if they are slightly better at emotions

My ramblings are here ⬇️

You have unfortunately chosen death.

This is just crack to be honest.

This is just a what if Bruce gets stuck in time for a bit longer. Just enough for Dick to convince himself that, yes, he can be a good parent to Damian. Just enough for Damian to be comfortable with his place, at least, in Dick's heart.

Anyway, when Bruce came back, the did is done. He's kinda too tired to process everything tho and shut off the situation for a while. When he did get his bearings back, he has already seen how happy both were and chose to never bring it up unless Dick and Damian themselves opened up to him. Not that he'll berate them if they do.

The press was on this strange situation for a while but when the stubborn Waynes kept their mouths shut, soon enough they got tired of asking.

They make conspiracy theories instead.

Tim wisely ignored the growing complexity of their family tree, sometimes wondering if, even with his detective skills, he can figure out how to draw it. Since he's way past that education level and only Damian might get such assignments, he stopped worrying over it. His younger bro-- nephew(?) Is a great artist so maybe he can map it out.

The entire batfamily aside from Damian is aware of the competition between Dick and Bruce. While Bruce accepts the whole... Thing. It doesn't mean that he's gonna back down from trying to give Damian affection. Or winning Damian's attention. Not that it should be a competition but somehow, it became just that. Emotions are weird, okay?And even if he was okay, he's still jealous.

The Batfamily sees this, wonders how he'll treat Damian if there was nothing to prove or fight for. Secretly they all agree that, even if it hurts to see the stoic Batman fight for his own flesh and blood's love (or trust even, Dick did god's work gaining that), Damian is doing well with Dick, achieved a lot of personal milestones with Dick and gets the best of what their cold, dark, detached family could offer from Dick. They all secretly wonder aloud, when the comms are off (they are EXTRA careful about this) if he would ever try with Damian if there was no competition at all.

There is still the argument of who Robin should be with during patrols, they all make bets when this happens. So far, Steph has collected 50 dollars from their new gambling game.

Jason finds it amusing and like Tim, stayed out of the drama. He stayed away from the manor really and kept them all away from his life in general. He doesn't really hate them. But "like" is not the right word either. Even then, the cold war between the Bat and his golden child reaches him. He doesn't really complain about this either.

An example of this "war" happens on the Demon's first birthday as Dickie's son which happens to be also Bruce's first time to celebrate the occasion with him. A party is to be thrown and invitations are sent. Jason is pleased to receive an invitation from Dick AND an invitation from Bruce. They are completely different in design but has the same information. He prays for the others who are affiliated with both.

When Kori asks him who Dick's child was and why was she not informed (because of course Dick is just slightly better at managing his life from canon) Jason just told her to attend and meet the baby boy herself. He blesses his family's poor communication skills and imagines all of Dick's friends loosing their shit over "Dick's baby".

[lilxberry]

That’s My Girl - Scott Lang

Requested by: @bnhaxreaderquotes​

Could I have a Scott Lang x longterm girlfriend fic?? Where she’s like super strong but super dumb?? Like she’s Thor but human and female XD bonus if she lifts Thor’s hammer to get to something and everyone’s like 👀 and she’s like ??? And scots like 🥰 “that’s my gf”

I loved this idea, I just really didn’t want to use the word stupid so much lmao I mostly referred to reader as “slow” I believe but like, this whole thing is kinda cute asf so I’m happy with it. I hope you’re happy with it too

Warnings: Like, a singular swear. Sweet ass Scott. Upset!Reader? IDEK ANYMORE.

Words: 1,645

Pairings: Scott Lang x Reader (female reader) (super strong reader?)

Unplanned sequel; That’s My Wife

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There’re many words to describe you.

Sweet? Yes. Kind? Yep. Selfless? Definitely. Beautiful? 100%. Strong? No doubt.

Stupid?

No, just…slow.

It’s not that you lacked intelligence, just, your brain worked at a different pace to that of others. Your fellow teammates could tell you that. Especially your partner Scott.

Scott, the sweetie pie that he is, certainly tries his best to help you catch up, to understand things that hadn’t really made sense to you at first. He’s no stranger to defending you either, no matter who or what it’s against.

Including your teammates.

“So, like C-3P0?”

Your head was tilted in confusion and your face was scrunched up as you tried desperately to understand what Tony was talking about.

You had walked into the lab finding all of the Avengers surrounding Tony rambling on about his newest creation, engineering some crazy new robotic tech. The others that had been subjected to his showcasing had explained to you that he’d called them in, forced them to watch the unveiling of Frankenstarks newest monster.

When you had asked why you hadn’t been called in, you’d missed the way Tony and the others tensed up. They knew that you wouldn’t understand a word Stark was speaking, as if the man were speaking some foreign language to you, but they didn’t want to explain that it was because you were ‘dense’.

The heaven-sent that is Scott stepped forward, a big, bright smile on his face as he entwined his fingers with your own as he came up with an excuse for the billionaire, saving Starks’ skin and sparing your feelings.

“He thought you’d find it boring. We all do to be honest honey but only so many of us are lucky enough to have an out,” was the sugar-coated explanation he conjured up on the spot.

You bought it easily, nodding in understanding with the sweetest of smiles before reaching up on your tiptoes to plant a kiss on his cheek. The others visibly relaxed, though you were oblivious as you stared up at Scott with a love-sick expression.

You had then gone on to ask what exactly it was that Tony had been working on which had led to a longwinded explanation with wild gestures and a heap of words you certainly didn’t understand whatsoever. Truth be told, he’d lost you within the first sentence.

Tony heaved a sigh. “No, not like C-3P0. The design is completely different and the level of A.I. being used it higher than that of C-3P0,” he spoke exasperatedly, a mocking tone taking over his tone near the end.

Feeling even more confused that what you had originally felt, you tried once more to understand.

“So…like Vision?”

Sam snorted as majority of the others smirked or tried to supress their smiles, Vision unsurprisingly seemed stoic as ever. Tony, on the other hand, had a look of genuine surprise. Almost looking proud.

“Uh, yeah, actually. You worked that out a lot faster than I thought you would honestly,” Tony said as an off-handed comment causing the others to still and Scott to tense slightly beside you while your brows furrowed.

“What’d you mean?”

Scott once again interjected to save the day, dragging your attention to him instead. “None of us really got it, that’s all. I’m pretty sure Thor still doesn’t, honestly.” He whispered the last part as he pointed his thumb towards the towering, blonde Asgardian.

Although your heart fluttered at the thought of Scott trying to be so sweet and kind to you, you couldn’t help the hurt that spread through you. You knew how the others viewed you, how they thought you were stupid, how you don’t understand anything.

Rather than show it affected you, you forced a smile on to your face and a tiny giggle to pass your lips.

Glancing at the others before allowing your eyes to fall back on to your boyfriend, you kept the feigned smile on your lips as you spoke. “I just remembered I gotta load of stuff to do. I’ll see you guys later.”

Scott flashed you his pearly whites in a wide smile before pecking your forehead and giving you a quiet “Sure babe.”

Walking backwards, you called out loudly to the group before exiting the room. “Have fun with Vision 2.0.”

Usually, when the team unintentionally commented on you in such a way, it would never really affect in such a negative way but today, it was just a series of failure after failure, your day all-round being bad.

From the comment in the lab, to the accidental breaking of a trainee’s arm due to you forgetting the strength you held over others, to Steve and Bucky taking the last of the coffee in the pot of the coffee machine which you had no idea how to work.

You had even bumped into someone in the hallway, the file you had been carrying falling to the ground and the papers inside scattering across the floor in disarray, leaving you to try reorganising the lot, taking a whole hour and a half.

It’s unfortunate that the person to be at the end of your disgruntled mood would be someone who you strongly considered a friend.

The Avengers who were currently residing at the compound were all scattered within the main living area and the open kitchen when you walked in, looking dishevelled as you frantically searched for a package that you had been notified had been delivered.

Walking through, you looked to see if the damn thing was atop any table you passed. Hell, you even lifted one of the chairs slightly to see if someone was cruel enough to hide the thing under it.

Although everyone had opted to watch you curiously, it was your sweet Scott to break the silence.

“Hey honey, whatcha’ doing there?” he asked curiously.

You grumbled out your answer, honestly ready for the day to be over with. “I’m looking for my delivery.”

Sam snorted before pointing towards the island in the centre of the kitchen. “You mean that massive package right there?”

Low and behold, there sat your package on top of the cool, marble surface, just with an added feature. You scowled, storming over towards the thing. You turned your fiery gaze to Thor, who was overall minding his own business chowing down on the entire contents of a Pop Tart box.

“WHY DID YOU PUT YOUR HAMMER ON MY FUCKING DELIVERY?!” You roared out, everyone’s eyes widened in complete and utter shock, Thor even jumped at the sudden loud booming. As he opened and reclosed his mouth repeatedly in a pathetic attempt to say something, anything, you continued.

“There could’ve been something really important in there! Or-or super fragile or something! What if you broke it?!”

During your explosion at the poor Asgardian, you happened to grasp the handle of Mjölnir and lift it with ease, causing everyone’s eyes to widen further and even a few mouths to drop open, gaping at the sight in front of them, Tony choking on his drink that he had been taking a sip of. Although Scott was just as shocked as those around him, he more so looked like a small child who’s completely wonder-struck, a twinkle in his eye.

“Never, and I mean NEVER, put your hammer on my damn things again. GOT IT?!” You shoved the hammer into Thors’ chest harshly, causing him to fumble to get a hold of it.

Once certain he had a tight grasp on the thing, you released your hold and spun on the spot, now becoming witness to everyone’s flabbergasted expressions. “WHAT?” you asked in exasperation and confusion, today completely tiring you out mentally and emotionally.

A pregnant silence befell you all before Scott suddenly jumped out of his seat, face ecstatic, arms raised high into the air above his head, hands balled up into fists, a loud and excited shout escaping him.

“YES!”

“You-you’re worthy?” Thor asked quietly to no one in particular.

Your brows furrowed deeply, now entirely confused and ever so slightly self-conscious. “What?”

“You’re worthy babe! Hell yeah! Up top!” he had made his way over towards you, now one arm raised with his hand now relaxed, waiting on you to give him a high five.

“I’m not following…”

“Only Thor could lift the hammer ‘cause he was the only one who’s worthy or whatever. It’s like impossible for anyone else to lift it,” Clint started to explain before being cut off by Natasha.

“Until you, that is. You’re the only other one whose been able to lift it.”

“Oh,” was all you said before shrugging your shoulders and waddling your way past Scott and towards your package on the kitchen island, picking it up and beginning to walk away.

Before you left though, you thought this to be the perfect opportunity to finally boast about something that you had been able to do that the others couldn’t. “Well, I may be stupid but at least I don’t put my back out by trying to lift a little hammer.”

You smirked as you continued to walk away, your destination being your room, package what would be heavy to most in your arms. Scott laughed loudly, something you could hear as you continued to retreat to your bedroom.

Meanwhile…

“HELL YEAH! THAT’S MY GIRL! WOO!” Scott began to follow after you, still shouting out every single word he spoke. “HONEY! THAT WAS LIKE THE COOLEST THING EVER! DID YOU SEE THEIR FACES?! Oh man, I can’t wait to tell Cass. SHE’S GONNA FREAK!”

The Avengers were still suck in their retrieves of shock, all unmoving, all trying to process the newfound information that you could lift the hammer.

Thor seemed to be taking it the worst, looking ever so slightly frightened, gulping loudly.

“I believe I have new matters to discuss with my father...”

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I love any Paul Rudd character just as much as him

I even have a t-shirt with his beautiful ass face on lmao

If you want to be added to a taglist lemme know

Anywho, I hope you enjoy

As always, constructive criticism and requests are welcomed and greatly appreciated :D

_______________

Marvel taglist:

@thanossexual

[simplysummers]

Breaking down Hunter and Omega’s relationship. Pt 2.

We’re back at it, here with the second post in this father-daughter-space-duo series! You guys responded to the first post better then I expected in all honesty! I didn’t think my insights were viewed as so important lmao. I don���t really think much introduction is needed here, the post itself is very self explanatory.

(Pasted paragraph: I would just like to add a disclaimer here. I am, in no way whatsoever, slating the other batchers for having differing relationships with Omega. I absolutely adore everything single one of the boys, and I think they all have wonderful and unique interrelations with her. Although I may point out these different approaches in comparison to Hunter’s, I am not stating these engages are wrong, just different is all!

I’m going to separate this into a little series- covering each episode in a separate post, which I’ll have tagged as the series progresses. Once I’ve tackled these two, as they’re my favourites, I’m going to move on to each individual Batcher and perhaps a few other dynamics such and Hunter and Crosshair, or Wrecker and Omega! Let me know what you guys would like to see!)

(Thank you to this weeks proof-reader: @treasureofmy-heart 💛)

Cut and Run: S1/E2

We kick off this episode with Hunter walking in on Echo inspecting Omega and Wrecker fast asleep on the floor. His face is very relaxed and he clearly finds it very sweet that her childlike curiosity has tired her out. His line, “ha, well this is a first,” while holding a strong gaze in Omega’s direction, suggests that she’s been exploring for quite some time, unleashing her endearing juvenile inquisition in the batchers presence. Hunter continues to claim she’s curious, using the same lighthearted tone he has always used in her regard, sparing the conversation in the medical wing on Kamino. This continues to confirm his gentle approach and concern towards the young clone.

When Echo confronts him over the situation at hand, it’s evident that Hunter hasn’t actually thought about what he’s going to do with Omega, yet by the look of quizzicality on his face. I personally took this as a sign that his initial thoughts were always “we’re going to lay low with her, look after her, while keeping everybody else safe.” It’s clear here that Echo has differing ideas that Hunter hadn’t even began to consider, and I think that’s what perplexes him in this moment. He needs to consider everybody.

The kid is up and awake! (Let the havoc commence aha.) Omega’s reaction to sunlight and dirt is definitely one of my favourite developmental moments of hers, it really sets in place that this little girl may have been an intelligent medical assistant, but she lacks experience, and still needs a guiding hand to help her through this new world she’s never endured before. I’d like to point out that it is, in fact, Hunter who stops to watch Omega’s reactions, and his FACE when she’s playing in the dirt! I’ve never seen such a parental smile on a man so stoic! I feel like I’m repeating myself a lot, but he is so endeared by her! She’s a breath of fresh air in Hunter’s very toxically routined life, and I love that for both of them. When they finally reach Cut’s land, Hunter is the one to pull her back, despite the fact she had to run between Echo and Tech to get to him. And upon Suu and Cut’s arrival, I actually didn’t realise that Omega creeps behind Hunter, most likely because these are strangers she doesn’t know and she feels she needs the protection. This confirms a clear bond between them has already began to flesh out.

There isn’t too much to say about the introduction and inhibitor chip discussion, as Omega spends a decent amount of that time exploring Cut and Suu’s house, but I will just say that it’s a nice touch that she ends up back at Hunter’s side when her part of the conversation is needed, she always seems physically drawn to him. Which brings me to my next point. Upon Shaeeah and Jek’s arrival, Omega once again creeps behind Hunter out of fear, only deciding to approach when formally addressed to do so. *Sigh*, and when Shaeeah pulls Omega out to play, and she halts to ask for Hunter’s permission, which is clearly given through a series of comforting smiles, is a plain indication of a trusted child-parental relationship. I must admit, Hunter’s face is pretty hilarious when everybody practically calls him out on his parental role- it’s just “why are you all staring at me..?” Because you’re acting like a dad, my dude.

Okay! Down to Cut and Hunter’s discussion. It’s a nice touch that Hunter is the first one outside to watch Omega play, swiftly followed by Cut, who, rightfully so, questions her existence. Although instead of explaining Omega’s origin (and by that I just mean that she’s a medical assistant clone from Kamino), he states that it doesn’t matter what the Kaminoans created her for, because she’s with them now, and to be with them she doesn’t need a purpose, she’s just a kid and should be allowed to act like one. Cut goes ahead to tease him over the ins and outs of raising a child, but to Hunter it was a no-brainer, Kamino wasn’t safe, so she was coming with them, as I’ve said previously, he saw NO negotiations. And as Cut says, “I (you) have to do what’s best for them.” This adds sentiment to the narrative of Hunter’s commanding role within the squad and Omega specifically.

So I’m shifting ahead slightly to the ball incident, and I have a LOT to say about this scene. First of all, it’s clearly evident that Hunter is the first to leave the house, along with Cut and Suu following closely behind. Associating this trio together is purposeful on the animators part in my opinion, they intentionally exclusively had Hunter leave with the other parents in the situation, isolating him specifically with that role in Omega’s life. When he finally reaches her, we see the protective hand come straight out to guard her against the Nexu, a typical trait they’ve established between them.

Now we move on to the confrontation. This is the first time Hunter raises his voice at Omega, and immediately she turns herself away from him, curling into her shoulder and making herself small. Omega is going through a lot of emotions right here, she’s afraid, anxious, and she’s being forced to deal with the fact that for the first time, Hunter is mad at her, for something she didn’t even intend to do wrong. Whereas from Hunter’s perspective, he hasn’t acknowledged she’s already in a bit of a state, and instead feels the need to immediately lecture her for her mistakes….although this lasts all but thirty seconds. Upon Cut’s attempts to diffuse the situation by having him pull Hunter away and reiterating that “she’s (Omegas) not a soldier”, his face immediately softens, he forgot for a moment, but now he realises and instantly the features are set in a regretful frown, he clearly feels awful and misrepresented. Hunter continues to observe Cut’s behaviour as he comforts Omega, who seems to take to the attention like a kicked puppy, lip trembling, eyes shaky, shoulders hunched, and I honestly think as Cut carries her away- is the exact moment Hunter realises he isn’t good enough for Omega. (I’ll further out on this in a moment)

I only want to briefly touch upon Omega’s gunners nest scene because I don’t think it has too much impact on her relationship with Hunter, however I would like to address the symbolism. I personally see the removal of her headpiece and the addition of her bangs as a new beginning, attaining the contrasting yellow light of Salucemi in comparison to Kamino, where she would’ve been given her jewel. Considering the episode’s outcome, Omega is no longer the tightly held, quivering little girl from Kamino, and instead she brings a slight unruliness to her aura, a little cheeky, definitely her brother’s sister. Still a sweetheart of course, but with a matter of confidence and boisterous behaviour to her. She seems to bounce out of her sadness quite easily here, as she seems suddenly awkward- yet curious- over Tech’s plan later on.

Furthering out into my previous point about Hunter believing Omega deserved much better in comparison to what he could provide: his conversation with Suu. “Protecting them is what we do.” The realisation on his face when she says this, it’s so…raw, something he’s taking time to comprehend. He heeds her words because he knows she and Cut are experienced in this field, they are better suited for Omega than he and the boys are, he believes he isn’t good enough for her, and this is projected when he insists ‘Mega leave with the family of four. Although Suu questions his sincerity, and he does indeed dodge the straightforward answer, this is what Hunter anticipates is best for Omega. He’s putting her needs above his happiness, no matter the heartache.

Moving along slightly, as Omega and Hunter spend a short period of time away from each other during the ship impoundment, I briefly wanted to touch upon the tone of Hunter’s voice when he learns Omega is on route to their position…by herself in a heavily armed spaceport. His eyes widen in a moment of fear, his voice is suddenly strained, he is struck with another raw emotion, something he frankly can’t obtain right now, and it’s let out in a minor threat towards his brothers- “if something happens to her-“ a clearly indication of worry.

This next point absolutely breaks my heart, the poor dears, both of them. Upon Omega’s arrival, Hunter is left to explain his forced proposal that she should leave Salucemi with Cut and Suu. As usual he completes his little ritual of taking her shoulders and crouching to her level, although this time he can’t quite look her in the eyes, a clear sign of regret and guilt, because he doesn’t want to give her away, he knows deep down she belongs with them, but he doesn’t believe he has what it takes to raise and protect her. The way Omega’s eyes crumple really catches me here, she’s being left, again… All this kid has ever known her entire life has either been abandonment, abuse or isolation, and she’s being passed on to strangers by the only people she’s ever been able to trust, and not only is it clearly breaking her heart, but she’s taking it personally, she thinks she’s at fault, much like Hunter does. Her line: “but, I want to stay with you.” compressed with the quivering tone and her precious accent really aides her desperation here, it conveys her in an adequate and very precise way.

Starting a brief new point to split these up slightly: I bring us to the continuous glances shared between them. Omega consistently looks over her shoulder to Hunter, she doesn’t want her eyes to leave him for one moment, she’s savouring his face, his details, for the very last time. And equally, Hunter is letting go of something he doesn’t want to leave behind, he likes the kid, to the point where his own self depreciation and doubt have been forced ahead in order to protect her, he can’t risk anything at this point. I’d also like to quickly mention how beautifully Omega’s eyes are animated, they intel so much, those precious little doe irises hold such story to them.

Moving on to a little jump cut enduring the batch’s escape and Omega’s return: Hunter’s tone of voice when addressing Wrecker is so pained, and his facials match it perfectly “she’s not com-“ it’s almost as though he’s biting back the urge to sprint headfirst into the gunfire if only to catch up to the little clone before it’s too late.

However, seeing as she’s managed to find her own way back that wouldn’t be exactly necessary. I think it’s a nice point that Hunter is the one to rush to Omega’s aide after she is grabbed by the trooper (flowing a brief flash of concern crossing his face), although Wrecker might’ve been closer, it’s a nice hint to their subtle closer bond. He, once again, crouches to her level although an unnecessary step in the situation, and I see this as another nod to their familiarised dependancy.

Finally, my last point for this episode, is their final conversation within the last few minutes. It’s faint, but the fact that the other batchers are all busying themselves in the cockpit, leaving Omega and Hunter to chat privately, is a very distinct use of separation. It also should be noted that Omega is the one to approach Hunter, this shows a decent level of not only maturity on her part, but trust between them as family, she trusts both him and herself enough to advance on a delicate situation, we even see her hesitate slightly, before pushing forward with a slip of confidence, and that takes a lot of gut from a little kid. She stands her ground, but with compliment. She very much reminds me of Hunter himself in the brig, assertive yet respectful. And speaking of Hunter, his face is just absolutely guilt-ridden when talking to her, because he too made the mistake of attempting to give her away, no matter how much good he thought it would do them both. While Omega is admitting she has a lot to learn in regards to safety and tactility, Hunter is suggesting he has a lot to learn about raising a child and providing the necessary care for her. It’s a brave moment for both of them, to be honest and open, and yet its received extremely well on both ends.

“If this is where you want to be…then this is where you’ll stay.” The admiration in his voice, the admiration in her eyes! They absolutely adore one another, and it melts my heart every time it’s displayed!

I hope you liked my analysis of Hunter and Omega’s relationship in episode two of The Bad Batch! Of course, I’d love to discuss these two with anybody who might be interested, so please feel free to drop me an ask or a DM, and if you’re captivated enough I’d totally recommend looking out for my future posts on the topic!

As always, much love to our ‘Megs and Hunter, thank you for reading! 💛

Part One: Aftermath

[bunny-hoodlum]

Asynchronous With You: Chapter 1

ship: naruhina

rating: teen (maybe mature later)

tags:  Modern Day AU, Foster Siblings, Family, Angst, Unrequited Love, Poor Communication

summary: An awkward journey full of self-denial and missed moments between two foster siblings. Perhaps their love will find the right timing someday.

(The way overdue long-form version of the Foster Sib AU I wrote for @szajnie for Secret Santa 2020.)

music: Asynchronous With You by burokkurubeats & my playlist

He wasn't the first child.

Somehow he had expected to be.

A girl his age, age six, and her older cousin had already been living here for a year now.

They had family, they were just… deemed unfit.

Maybe they'll take them back, when they get their act together. He doesn't know. He only knows he doesn't have the luxury of hope that they do.

Nobody was coming back to get him.

And he had nowhere to go back to.

The foster lady with the ruby red eyes showed him his bedroom.

At first, Naruto thought Hinata and Neji were close, so much so that no one could ever be closer.

Then he thought it was their tactic to keep others out, self-preservation in blood.

Hinata was nice enough, but she never strayed far from Neji.

That was because he never let her.

She wasn't just fiercely loyal to him. She was scared of him.

He tried to get Neji in trouble. Kurenai-obachan needed to know. But Hinata stopped him. She told him not to split them apart. That she didn't mind Neji bossing her around. She would never be okay if she didn't know where her cousin was.

So he tried. But it was hard. He still picked fights with Neji.

That didn't make Hinata happier, either.

He still thinks it's Neji's fault when she finally breaks down, telling them both off before running to her room.

He runs after her, but she won't let him in.

He goes to his room and talks to her through his wall. He has to press himself flat against it, straining to hear any sound.

Could she hear him, too?

"I'll leave Neji alone, okay?" It's a bitter promise, because it makes him feel like he's surrendered when he did nothing wrong. But part of him also feels tired of this pattern day in and day out. He'd rather spend his time better.

The silence stretched passed the point of comfort, and he pictured tomorrow, a tomorrow where Hinata may hate him. Enough to shun him in his own home. And would he really do what he's always done to others to her? Would he really go that far for attention?

His unconscious concerns spilled out, running through his fingers before he could stuff the words back in and swallow them. "Hinata… can I bug you instead?" He flinches and freezes, and he waits.

It's faint, but he heard her.

"Sure," she said.

His shoulders lowered as he slouched down the wall, the tension leaking from his body and he smiled.

Their early years would be shaped by a secret language shared between the two of them from that moment on, where a pinch on the arm and a retaliatory swat was a polite exchange in the morning. Where a "missing" item from their bedrooms was an excuse to search the house together, and where a stolen item was an invitation to enter each other's bedrooms. Hinata really liked to show him her new collection of pressed flowers, and he really liked to show her his latest Gachapon figurine. Whenever that happened, it was usually one of those new things that went "missing" shortly after.

It wasn't that Kurenai-obasan didn't spoil him as much as them, he could have new things all the time, too. But she hadn't been planning on taking him, she hadn't been prepared for him. If he wanted more things, Hinata would have to have less.

And the time he could spend with her was more than enough for him.

____________________________

Halfway through their grade school years their secret games waned. Being in the same grade helped to keep them in touch throughout the day, but at lunch time she was Neji's, and after school she was Neji's. That's just how it was.

But they were maturing. Their experiences were expanding. They had so much to talk about.

But how could they? It had to be at bedtime. And because it had to be bedtime, they had to be quiet.

He got the idea to drill a hole into their bedroom wall so that way they could easily whisper and not get caught.

That was one of his first thrills: vandalism.

"I think you mean 'home improvement'," Hinata giggled.

He had to process that.

He never realized until then that he still hadn't considered this his home.

Thanks to Kurenai-obasan, he had food in his belly and a roof over his head. He had a bed, some video games, and a safe route to school.

Thanks to Neji, he had a model of masculinity. Not a role model, mind you, but a model nonetheless. Some things about Neji were cool, even admirable. And other things he would never do in his life. They were both abandoned, confused and alone, sure. But it was always annoying how Neji couldn't help but look back. Naruto always had to look forward.

Maybe the way they both did things was equally imperfect.

He smiled to himself, as this is where he had to thank Hinata, for she kept them both grounded and present. Because that's how she lives her life, like each day is a gift not to be squandered.

Who cares about being hurt yesterday? Who cares about what hasn't happened yet?

Right now, at this moment, he was home.

This was his home.

____________________________

Girls at school always cupped their ears when they were eavesdropping. They cup their mouths when they're telling secrets or bad-mouthing others.

Hinata cups her ear around the hole in their wall when he's telling her stories. And she cups her mouth when she's telling him hers.

Her ears are sensitive, so he tries to watch his volume. He forgets himself when he gets excitable.

Her breath tickles and teases a memory from his brain, one that fills him with both sadness and relief.

When he tries to sleep, he searches for the root of this feeling.

The next day on television, there's a mother murmuring her baby to sleep.

He adopts that image as his own forgotten memory.

And the following night, Hinata's soothing whispers confirm that he had a mother once, and she used to sing him to sleep.

____________________________

Hinata's a wimp.

He loves the girl, but at school she is a gosh damn trouble magnet.

He jumps in front of her bullies, fists blazing, and he loses.

A lot.

But he gets to pick fights again. He gets to be cool from time to time. And when he gets better, he becomes the best. He gets a reputation!

By the time they reach fifth grade, he doesn't even have to raise a fist.

A well-aimed death glare is enough.

When Neji's graduation forces the two cousins apart for the first time in their lives, the older Hyuuga undergoes a personality shift.

He expresses legitimate concern for Hinata.

Maybe it's been there all along.

They're both standing on the empty landing just outside of their elementary's gymnasium where the remainder of the proceedings were taking place. Neji's stare, heavy with expectations and ultimatum, bore down on his little shoulders.

"You're the only one I can ask."

"Yeah, don't worry. I got this!" Naruto flashed his patent overconfident grin, and this time not a hint of condescension passed across Neji's face.

His heart thumped wildly when he and Neji returned to the gymnasium, with Neji returning to his position amongst the other students in the center of the room. Family members lined up against the walls in foldable metal chairs, a spattering of pride and loss playing out across their faces; Their children were growing up.

When Naruto took his seat, he stole a glance at Hinata on the other side of Kurenai-obasan. Her gentle profile seemed to unlock something inside of him. Waves upon waves of warmth filled his body, pulling him in deeper into a languid pool of contentment.

He would be her protector from now on.

He would be her brother.

____________________________

He never noticed how their paths lead each other further and further apart.

Their daily routines had remained the same.

Aside from a few exciting developments.

Like Kurenai reconnecting with a childhood friend. The man was a Marine and a chainsmoker, but he seemed cool.

Or how Naruto happened to find a collection of discarded skin mags behind the pool storage room at school. They now safely occupied the space beneath his bed.

There was also the neighborhood shrimp squad of grade-schoolers who loved to call him 'Boss' whenever he came over to play.

Or that time he was hanging out with Sasuke, and unusually the stoic lad had insulted a group of delinquents before he did at the local arcade.

Sasuke may have taken out four guys by the time Naruto took out one, but he still got the win.

But way, way before all of that something had really surprised him: Hinata becoming Deputy Class Rep to their own Haruno Sakura.

She was volunteered for the position based on her equally outstanding grades. Or, at least that's what they had believed.

Over time, it became apparent that they had volunteered Hinata to be Sakura's foil. Hinata was considerate and much more approachable. If the students wanted something, they went straight to Hinata first.

But then her unchanged nature became more detectable.

Like he's said before, Hinata's a wimp.

She crumbles at the slightest disapproval.

She implodes when she's convinced she could do better. When she thinks she's failing.

So halfway through their first year, she started to get abused. Girls and boys alike tried to strongarm her into making their lives 'better'. Making her fetch their lunches and dumping cleaning duty on her every day, then throwing her words back at her when she tried to complain. They'd say, 'But it's what you signed up for', and 'Isn't this your job? Don't you care about your classmates?'.

Somehow Sakura never noticed. He tried to tell her, but she didn't take him seriously. He tried to tell the teachers, but they acted like he had no evidence.

Liars! They just didn't want to get involved! What good are teachers if they don't help their students?!

Some weeks later, the following exams were posted outside the classroom.

Sakura was number two, just below Ino. They were always competing for the top, always unevenly dethroning the other.

Hinata was number three. Always suspiciously number three. And he was dead last.

Hinata could rise to the top, but she never tries.

He always tries, but he can never seem to rise.

He realized then that he hasn't been doing enough as her brother.

Compared to her, he has no future, no potential. It wouldn't be a waste if he took on her burdens.

He can take abuse, because during those first six years at a state-run orphanage, abuse was all he knew.

He realized what he had to do. Resiliency was one of his best traits, after all.

The following day, he took Hinata's place as the class slave. He fetched their lunches, got them drinks whenever they asked. The only thing they never asked him to do was their homework. Because… yeah.

Nobody knew they lived together.

If they did, well, he might've been forced to copy Hinata's assignments all the same.

He never noticed how their paths lead them apart, how their daily routines boxed them into two different social spheres never to overlap.

He was still her brother. Her protector.

But by high school, he'd also become the embodiment of trouble itself.

And he couldn't let that stuff disrupt her life.

____________________________

Naruto’s sprawled belly-down on the sofa playing on his Vita handheld when Kurenai-obasan calls out to him as she’s emerging from the laundry room.

“Naruto, I’ve stared at this hamper for three weeks,” She drops the hamper at her feet with a weighty thump for emphasis. “Are you going to do it or not?”

“I just forgot.” He surreptitiously powers off his game and abandons his handheld on the sofa as he ambles off the couch.

He’s dramatic when he slouches his shoulders and drags his feet, head lolling backwards in anguish. He hauls the hamper back inside the laundry room. He doesn’t look when he opens the washing machine and dumps his clothes into the drum. But the pile is sticking up. He tries to smash it all down, but he can’t. It’s already full.

“Crap.” He scoops out his month-old laundry in four armfuls and disposes them at his feet. He reaches in to grab the damp garments sticking to the sides of the drum, then begins to throw them into the dryer. At least that’s empty.

He doesn’t notice the butter yellow hoodie with white polka dots on the kangaroo pocket. Or the frilly linen top that needs to be dried on the line. Or the no-show socks with rabbits on them.

Once the drum was cleared out, he hurled his fermented clothes into the washer and started up both machines.

He went back to his game for several hours. Kurenai had to remind him to dry his clothes as she delivered the dryer’s contents to Hinata’s room. This was because Hinata was at cram school.

As he moved his items to the dryer, he recalled how Neji had done cram school too before moving onto a prestigious high school deep in the city center.

Naruto never knew whether to be jealous or not. School work was utterly useless and he didn’t envy the workload of overachievers, but maybe that was only because he couldn’t handle it. Maybe if he were smarter, he’d appreciate it better. Or maybe he’d figure out more ingenious ways to skip it all.

He played his game in the laundry room, waiting for the final ding to go off. He used the same dirty hamper to gather up his clean clothes and dragged it inside his room, where he promptly dumped it all out on his bed. Fresh laundry was intoxicating and he didn’t fight the urge to belly flop into the softener-drenched warmth.

He deeply inhaled as he sank into the heat. His cheek felt particularly nice against this satin material.

His left eye opened a peek. Vanilla and lavender stripes met his eye, with a rose lace and ribbon trim along the waistband.

He shot upright, his face no longer hot from the laundry, but hot with horrified embarrassment. He stared at the garment like it might come to life, jump on him and eat his face. It hadn’t so far.

‘It should be fine to pick them up, right?’ He thought with his frozen hand stretched out.

Why was he acting weird about this? They used to mix their laundry up all the time when they were younger. It’s actually how Hinata acquired a love of hoodies in the first place, because she loved to wear the beige one Obasan got him. She can pull off softer colors, but he can’t, so it was easily hers from that moment on.

He plucked up her panties by their corners and held it away, like it were an envelope full of Ricin, and he gazed at it mindlessly. Somehow they were exactly what he expected Hinata to wear, they were girly and cute.

Pale skin flashed before his eyes, a taboo image of Hinata in these panties, lifting her pleated uniform skirt up had startled him and he dropped the undergarments with a yelp.

Did he really just imagine her that way?

Naruto tried to smack the stupid from his mind until his cheeks burned with physical pain, then with everything he could muster, he snatched up the pair and ran for her bedroom, adding it unceremoniously to her hamper of clean clothes.

He pretended to be asleep by the time she got home.

He ignored the sweet voice that slid through the hole in the wall until she gave up and stopped calling him.

There was simply no way he could hold a conversation with her after that experience.

And to think he had to rely on his skin mags to purge him of his sin.

____________________________

Weightlifting was doing wonders for him.

For starters, it was taking his mind off of his libido.

For another, his physique was changing. He was starting to sprout up, too. Hinata’s former bullies were starting to learn some new feelings, like reluctance and fear. They eventually moved onto the freshman to enslave, leaving him alone to finally live his final year of middle school the way he always wanted.

The more he did weights, the more girls started to look his way, not just at Sasuke-teme.

Life was looking good!

Is what he thought when he was hanging out on the roof with Sasuke and two Ojou-gyaru types. One girl was straddling Sasuke while Naruto spooned the other girl from behind.

A dire thought hit him when he realized only six months remained until graduation. A choice he had been overlooking was rapping its knuckles against his temple, and he could hardly shoo it away.

“Hey.” Naruto turned his head towards Sasuke.

“Hn?”

“Where are you going for High School?”

Sasuke turned his head up towards the sky. He was pensively silent. Then he shrugged. “I’m going to stay here.”

“So you’re going to Konoha Normal High?”

“Just like everyone else.” Sasuke said.

‘Everyone else’ didn’t include Hinata, and he was supposed to stick close to her.

How suspicious would it be if he chose to follow her to her high school?

What if he couldn’t? What if she was following the same path as Neji?

Neji would be there until her senior year. Was his responsibility to the both of them over already?

Naruto would later get a text from Obasan that she would be spending the night with Asuma.

K-Obasan: There’s curry udon in the fridge.

He narrowed his eyes at the text.

Just because you add noodles to leftover curry doesn’t make it a Naruto-approved dinner!

“Udon’s not even the same thing!”

His steps slowed in the school corridor. It was enough for his rooftop date to catch up with him.

“Your face looks weird when you’re glum.” She giggled as she poked his cheeks.

“Yeah, well, I just realized I’m about to go home and no one’s going to be waiting for me.”

“Oh?” She circled her arms around his own and leaned in close. “Good for us, huh?”

His eyes widened with realization. A goofy grin stretched across his face, the corners curling lasciviously.

‘Yeah,’ he thought, ‘I’m owed this.’

____________________________

Author Note: I'm forgoing the one-shot because I still don't have that kind of discipline. ;D I'll definitely try to finish this short story to the end. I had received some good title suggestions for this story, but I ended up going with another song name because I can't seem to do anything else. ¯\_༼ ಥ ‿ ಥ ༽_/¯

I'm still going to try to adhere to the canon of the original fic to the best of my ability. I would totally declare this new canon, honestly, but then it'd be a Secret Dating fic with smut and it would never line up with what I already wrote. 😓

Anyways, I hope you liked this so far!

[whatislove-bambi]

Oops... (I Love You)!

Snow White AU

Summary: Taehyung is the fairest of them all in the Land of Fairytales. He’s tall, handsome and his features make even the Goddess of Love swoon. His best friend (his mirror), tells him day in and out just how he is the most beautiful in all the Lands… until today.

+++

Or how Seokjin has had enough of Taehyung’s vain ass and decides to tell a - in hindsight - terrible lie. How then Jin realizes he effed up because Taehyung is going to murder an innocent person for their beauty…

_______________________________________________

Pairing: Taehyung/Reader

Genre: angst, fantasy, fluff, crack?, smut

Contents/Warnings: smut!, strangers to lovers, enemies(?) to lovers, magic gone wrong, Big Dick Tae, evil!Tae, lowkey possessive!Tae, impregnation kink, soft!Tae, cunnilingus, fingering, breath play, dry humping, unprotected sex, creampie, cum play (tiny), underwear kink, huge amounts of cum, fairytale happenings

Words: 19k. 

_______________________________________________

We begin our story in the Land of Fairytales.

The land is rich with green and wealth, the inhabitants healthy and happy. Their ruler is a beautiful one. Tall, handsome, features chiseled so well that even the Gods and Goddess’ swoon when they see him.

His name is Kim Taehyung, the sole heir to the throne by his passing parents, the previous King and Queen of the land. You see, before they passed, they had urged him to find a suitable lover to marry, but Taehyung was stubborn. No one could meet his expectations - no one could rival his beauty. And so, his parents eventually gave up the notion of their son ever marrying, leaving him the only ruler and heir of the kingdom.

Taehyung didn’t have many friends either, always looking down on them and barking orders when neighbouring princes or princesses tried to make his cold heart melt.

Nonetheless, this did not faze Taehyung. All he needed was himself, his beauty, and his magic mirror.

But like every fairytale, we begin happily only to come upon a conflict for our handsome ruler.

+++

The room was white: walls, ceiling, even the stained glass only filtered in light that made the room brighter — whiter.

Taehyung walked up the steps leading him to his most prized and loved object of all.

Seeing his face reflected back at him, he smirked cockily before speaking, “oh mirror of great wisdom and insight, I summon thee!”

Alright, here we go.

Jin wasn’t sure how long it’s been since he’s been cursed. Cursed to be a stupid mirror… or stuck inside one. Anyways.  

Sighing, his face appeared in the reflective surface, meeting the gaze of his only companion in all the years he’s been isolated - until precisely some years ago, when Taehyung was exploring a cave and found Jin’s mirror hidden away with other jewels and gold. But the young heir only had eyes for him, so he plucked him up and now here he hangs, alone and covered in bright light until he is needed or summoned for the King’s daily dose of narcissism.

“Yes, O’ Great One, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Jin asks, sarcasm heavily lacing his tone.

Taehyung lifts a thick eyebrow, but makes no remarks. “How is that nearby Prince doing?”

“You mean Prince Jimin?”

“Yes, that prick.”

Jin scoffs. “He isn’t a prick. He’s a real nice guy, gave a bunch of money to a poor village down by the Island of the Mere.”

Taehyung wasn’t even listening - this brat!

Said King, was examining his nails, a bored expression on his handsome face. God, how Jin could stare all day at it and still want to claw his eyes out at the same time.

“Ahem,” Jin hisses, narrowing his eyes at the younger man.

Taehyung flicked his gaze upward disinterestedly. Running a hand through his newly permed, black locks, he rotated his shoulder blades back to release tension in his muscles. “Right. So… mirror, mirror, on the wall, who’s the fairest of them all?”

Jin crossed his arms, his patience thinning. Okay, so he was cursed like lifetimes ago and was trapped inside a mirror. He only had his own thoughts to keep him company until someone found his mirror and someone always found it. But once Jin appeared to greet them, they all freaked out and threw his mirror back in the trash. Until Taehyung. Which is why he tries to have never-ending patience and tolerance for this punk.

Taehyung had found him before the previous Royal rulers’ passing. He was still young, still cocky, but there was something sad and melancholic to him. He was exploring and upon finding the mirror, Taehyung fell in love and decided to keep it. When Jin appeared to him, Taehyung didn’t scream or run or throw the mirror out, instead, he sat down and talked with him. The first person to speak to Jin in years - lifetimes.

So while Jin finds certain personality quirks of the present King to be irritating, he is also fond of the poor man. After all, it must be pretty awful to be trapped within the castle walls, refusing to let down both his, figurative and actual walls and live life; only believing himself to be the most wonderful of them all.

“Are you deaf? I asked you a question,” Taehyung snaps.

Jin’s smile slips and he feels annoyance bubble.

Okay, screw it, fucking Kim Taehyung.

“What was your question again—“

“Who is the fairest of them all?” Taehyung cuts off bluntly.

Jin takes a deep breath, unable to hide his growing frustration. Technically there is no one who is fairest of them all. Sure, fair there are plenty, but the only one? That’s crazy talk! And Jin is stuck in a goddamn’ mirror! How he wishes to be able to make said man’s facade break - even for a moment…

An idea flashes into his mind and he grins deviously.

Clearing his throat, he puts on his best theatric voice. “Famed is thy beauty, King. But hold, a lovely maid I see. Rags cannot hide her gentle grace. Alas,” Jin searches until finally, finally he finds the perfect one for his perfect plan. “she is more fair than thee.”

It is so satisfying to see Taehyung’s stoic face crack. Something flickers in his eyes, his lips curling downwards in distaste and he crosses his arms like a petulant child.

Jin brings a hand over his mouth to cover the smile from forming. This is the best prank yet!

“Alas for her,” Taehyung all but growls, his deep voice suddenly deeper. “Reveal her name.”

Jin clears his throat, putting forth the act once more. “Lips red as rose. Hair black as ebony. Skin white as snow. Her name is Y/N.”

Taehyung’s gaze hardens if possible. “Who is she?”

Jin waves his hand nonchalantly and the image appears before the King.

Okay, her lips are not red as rose, in fact, they’re kinda chapped from how she keeps biting them in frustration, trying to scrub a stain off a dirtied plate. Her dark hair is pulled up and her skin is glistening with sweat and washing water, nowhere near as white as snow. But she’ll do - at least until Jin can tell Taehyung it’s just a silly joke and that she’s a peasant who doesn’t mean much.

She’s young, likely around Taehyung’s age, but unlike the royal highness’ luxurious beauty, she’s got her arms, elbow-deep, inside a wash basin, cleaning up dirty plates, the dirty water splashing onto her soiled apron.

Really, if Taehyung was smart, he’d notice she’s nothing like what Jin had said. But Taehyung is blinded by rage, something that Jin misses.

A moment of tense silence passes before —

“T-this wench is the fairest of them all?!” Taehyung roars.

Jin jumps. Oh wait, shit, why is he so mad?

“I will have her murdered.”

Jin’s jaw drops, unable to hold his horror. “W-wait, Your Majesty - I - this —“

But Taehyung has already turned, his deep blue robes swirling around him as he angrily marches out of the room, the heavy doors slamming shut behind him.

Jin stares, unable to understand what truly just happened. “Oh… what have I done?”

***

Sighing, you place the last of the clean dishes back on their shelves, taking off the disgusting apron and throwing it in the dirty hamper.

“You off for the night, Y/N?” your coworker asks, untying her apron hurriedly.

“Mhm, too tired to do anything else.”

“Wish I could say the same. I have to get home to the kids - the husband will want some quality time together after dinner.”

You chuckle, helping her untie and toss the soiled piece into the hamper as well.

“That sounds like fun.”

“Which is why you, my dear, should get yourself a husband already! The oven doesn’t stay hot forever you know! Get the buns in there while it’s still fresh.”

Your face burns at the comment and you swat at her arm. “Stop it,” you whine.

“Come, let’s walk home together.”

Despite still being embarrassed, you let her drag you from the tiny tavern, bidding your boss goodnight.

***

Stepping out of the tub, you run a towel through your damp hair, your other hand reaching up to swipe a line through the steam in your mirror.

“Which is why you, my dear, should find yourself a husband already!”

You make a face, grabbing a nearby hairbrush to get the knots out. “Who needs a husband,” you mumble. “Men are all trouble…”

“Amen to that, my dear.”

Suddenly, a face appears in your mirror. A handsome face. With eyes that glisten and a smile that should get a million hearts fluttering, but you - you are terrified.

“Holy shit!” you scream, shooting backwards, as far away as you can from the cursed object. You throw your brush at it, watching it bounce off the glass, before searching for something heavier.

“W-WAIT! Wait!” the man shouts, from your mirror. “I come in peace!”

You grip the towel around you tightly, staring at the face before you, your heart thundering.

“Let me not be so in your face,” he chuckles at his own joke, before suddenly, it’s like camera lens, his face is now zoomed out and you see the rest of him. He’s wearing clothes that look royal, a white button-up tucked into dark slacks. “Much better. My name is Seokjin, but you can call me Jin. I am here to protect you—“

“Who the hell are you,” you continue to scream, grabbing the dropped hairbrush as your defensive weapon. “What are you doing in my mirror!?”

Jin frowns at you, clearly annoyed at you interrupting him. “First of all - I said my name is Jin. Jeez, youngsters these days just don’t listen,” he mumbles annoyedly. “Secondly, I can explain that if you just calm down… okay? Just put down the hair tool… there, you go, now take a few deep breaths…”

You do as you’re told before you step cautiously towards the mirror.

“I am here to help you - kind of like a guardian angel. You see, the King of this Land, he’s enraged with you.”

You tilt your head, frowning. “Why? I’ve never even met the guy. Ever since his parent’s passing, he’s been cooped up inside his luxurious castle. He doesn’t even show his face at the annual festivals - how could I have enraged him?”

“The King is very… adamant on being the most fairest of them all. And someone,” Jin clears his throat. “Let it slip that it’s you. So he’s going to murder you now.”

Your eyes widen and Jin paces in his space, a pensive look on his face. “But I searched throughout the Land and there’s a cabin not too far from here, uninhabited and spacious enough for you. You could farm the nearby crops, survive there until the King’s delusions are set aside and then—“

A sound cuts Jin off, making his head snap to the side.

Your head is bent forward, face hidden from view. Your shoulders shake and tiny chokes leave you.

Were you crying? Panic seized his heart suddenly.

“L-Listen — I know it looks bad, but I assure you, I will keep you safe—“

Until the noise turned into a snort and then a full on guffaw.

“Oh by the gods,” you gasp, breathlessly. “I’m so tired, I’m imagining things. A talking mirror, the King wanting to murder me - for being the most beautiful in the Land? Ha! This is — it’s crazy! Come on, Y/N, you are so tired that you’re making all this stuff up. Just crazy.”

Jin stares in bewilderment as you leave your bathroom, the door slamming shut behind you, shrouding him in darkness. “Wait! Y/N! Y/N! This isn’t a joke - you’re going to die! He’s got a huntsman coming to kill you!”

You huff, quickly drying your damp hair and drowning out your delusions. “Don’t you worry, Y/N, after a good night’s sleep, you’ll be back to normal.”

And with that thought, you jumped into bed and slept soundly soon after.

+++

You arrived at work a little earlier since you were opening the tavern. Slipping into your uniform easily, you start unstacking the chairs, before grabbing a rag to wipe down any uncleanly surfaces.

First the counter, then polishing overnight glasses, pairing cutlery and napkins, all the while, humming around the room. Your last task is to wipe down the mirrors in the diner’s restroom, catching a glimpse of your reflection now that you were almost done your morning tasks.

You hadn’t thought about last night’s events at all, at least not until now. Your reflection shoots back a smile and you chuckle. Who knew you had such an imagination?

“He’s got a huntsman coming to kill you!” Jin’s voice echoed in your head, freezing your smile in its place.

Snapping out of your reverie, you shake your head, giving yourself a reassuring nod. “Don’t be silly, Y/N. The King would want nothing with a peasant…” You sigh forlornly, your reflection no longer beaming back at you. You wanted more from this life - more than just a measly wage from wiping down tables and serving drunk pirates or hidden princes and princesses who thought their disguises were actually stealthy.  

Sighing, you turn around, ready to leave the restroom. Not everyone got a fairytale ending, you think bitterly.

However, you fail to notice a pair of eyes watching you.

***

It’s not long after that, that your colleague of the morning shows up, waving you a tired hand as they go to start filling up the alcohol.

Shortly after turning over the sign to “OPEN,” people start entering. It’s a bustling morning, like it usually is.

“Y/N, drinks for the miner!”

“More meat over here!”

“How’ya doin’ doll?”  

“Refills, Y/N!”

The day never stopped. You groaned as you handed out your umpteenth food plate of the morning and poured your millionth cup of stale beer. Sparing a glance at the clock, your eyes lit up. It was break time.

Waving three fingers in the air at the barkeeper, the woman nodded in acknowledgement, before you grabbed something to drink and eat, taking a table closest to the back of the tavern. Here it was less crowded and more quiet, letting you have some alone time.

You take a seat and watch the people around.

Your life was rarely different, always the same things. You wake up, go to work, come home, make dinner, clean, go to sleep. Repeat.

Unconsciously frowning, you stir the straw in your drink. Life was, for a lack of better word, mundane. You didn’t have many friends, just a select few and all from work. They were either much older or younger and no one really near or around your age.

I need some adventure, you think, propping your chin on your hand as you look out the window at the bustling streets.

Suddenly, someone slides into the seat across from you. You stop slurping and stare, eyes wide with surprise.

“Hello,” the newcomer grins, brown hair tousled ever-so-slightly over large, doe-like eyes. He’s grinning at you, looking boyish and handsome.

You blink owlishly, pointing at yourself. “Are you talking to me?”

“Who else would I be talking to?” he laughs.

“Oh - if you’re looking for a waitress, I’m on a break. But the other girls can help you,” you supply. You already regretting talking to him. You only have fifteen minutes every three hours and you didn’t want to waste it on this, no matter how good looking he is.

“Actually,” he begins, his grin faltering as he rubs the back of his neck. “I wanted to talk to you, personally. My name’s JK and I think you’re really pretty… do you, um, maybe want to go out sometime?”

Now, you’ve been asked out a couple times before - but certainly never from someone so attractive. Definitely not someone this polite and gentle in courting you. Your mind is reeling at the confession and you just stare at him, speechless.

“M-me?” you ask again, your voice coming out in a whisper.

He laughs, this time showing his teeth and you like his smile. “Yes. I mean, don’t feel pressured to. I just… you’re really pretty and I’m insanely shy so…”

“Sure!” You blurt, before you begin to second-guess and doubt yourself. Your heart flips at the way JK’s smile lights up even more.  

“When’s a good time for you?”

“I, uh, well… I don’t get off until tonight. Actually, I’m working all week,” you frown, rattling off the schedule in your head.

“How ‘bout tonight?”

That catches you by surprise. “Tonight?”

“Yeah! If it’s not too forward…”

Well… it is. But weren’t you just complaining about adventure earlier? I mean - come on, this guy’s cute! And he likes you!!

Taking a leap of faith, you give in. “Sure! I’m closing the tavern tonight,” you nervously fiddle with your fingers. “Would you be alright to meet me at the back?”

JK chuckles, leaning back and tossing you another boyish smile. “Are you kidding? A girl like you just said yes - of course, I’m not going to care.”

Now, if you were smart and cautious, you would know it doesn’t make sense that a random stranger just came up to you and asked you out abruptly. But you’ve been alone your whole life and no one to teach you about the evils in this world - naivety rolled off of you in waves. You wanted adventure - damn’t! And adventure you were going to get!

“I will see you when the sun sets!”

JK grins, his doe eyes flashing almost predatorily. “Of course, Y/N.”

You beam, going back to your drink with a bright smile while JK waves at you as he leaves the tavern.

You miss two things: one, he never even ordered anything on his way in or out.

Two, you never told him your name to begin with.

***

Stepping out of the empty tavern, you lock up and tuck the keys away into your worn-out bag. Turning around, you face the emptied backlot, confusion on your face. Where’s JK?

“Aren’t you eager.” The voice startles you and you whip around, facing the handsome man with the boyish face and the large, doe-like eyes.

He has a knack of taking you by surprise!

“Ha… you scared me!” JK doesn’t react, only continues to smile at you and you shiver…  from the cold?

“So… where would you like to go?”

Again, JK doesn’t respond. In fact, he merely stands where he is, continually smiling at you.

As naive as you are, you begin to feel uneasy. A moment passes, then another and another. Still, JK doesn’t move from his spot.

“Y/N, you really are quite beautiful.”

You swallow. “O-oh? Is that so? Thank—“

“It’s a shame the King wants you dead.”

Your eyes widen and in that moment, the situation clicks. How stupid you are.

Spinning on your heels, you turn to run, but pain erupts in your skull as you realize JK has grabbed a handful of your hair and is now tugging you back towards him.

“Uh, uh,” he tuts, like he’s talking to a disobedient child. “Stay still. This will be painless if you don’t fight it.”

Adrenaline courses through your veins and you hear your blood pumping loudly. Without thinking, you spin around and bring your leg up, kicking JK in the crotch, catching him off guard. He groans, loosening his grip on you ever so slightly. That’s all you need - you pull free from him and bringing your hand up, punch him in the throat with all your might. A splutter from said man and then you’re sprinting into the woods - hoping to put as much distance between you and him as possible.  

Your soles hit the ground and tree branches blur past you. Your breath is coming out in huffs, it’s getting dark and you’re alone. Footsteps are heard behind you and sparing a glance, your eyes widen at seeing JK’s looming figure catching speed with you. He’s absolutely terrifying in this moment.

Diving sideways, you manage to roll down a hill, groaning as you hit the flat surface of dirt. Sitting up, you gaze up to see JK glaring down at you from the ledge you fell. It’s too slippery for him to slide down without hurting himself, and he knows this. His gaze lands on a trail just off to the side. You watch in horror as he sprints towards it. Staggering up on wobbly legs, you gaze around — exit — I need an exit!

“Y/N! Y/N! I can help!” You look down and notice your bag on the ground, the contents spilled out. One of them is your compact mirror - which has Jin staring back at you! Feeling a wave of slight relief, you grab the mirror and despite the pain and your forgotten items, you race through the thicket of bushes and trees.

“Jin - tell me I’m dreaming, because right now I’m being chased by a serial killer,” you hiss, trying to keep your voice low as you duck just beneath a protruding branch.

“I would love to tell you that - but unfortunately it’s the truth. The King hired a trained huntsman to track you down to kill.”

“How are you so calm about all this?”

“I’m trying to figure out a way to save you,” Jin huffs.

“Please think faster - I don’t think I can continue like this anymore,” you hiss, noticing you are now deeper into the woods than you were before. Deeper and even more lost.

“I have an idea,” Jin pipes up.

You quickly and quietly crouch behind a few shrubs, hiding yourself and holding the mirror close to you. It’s terrifyingly quiet and you’re afraid to look up in fear that JK is looming over you, ready to strike. But you’re certain he’s nowhere near you yet, he had to round the ledge that you rolled down and that would’ve given you enough time to hide.

“Shh! I hear him,” you whisper, quietly placing the mirror on the dirt floor as you press yourself closer and closer into the shrub.

With bated breath, you hear him. Your heart is hammering loudly in your chest, so loud that you’re fearful he can hear and find you. The sound of his footsteps coming closer as he crunches nearby twigs and leaves.

“Y/N, if you come out now, I’ll make it painless and quick. I’m sorry for your fate, but the King has ordered it. You have nowhere else you can run.” It’s said matter-of-factly, but you notice how JK has the decency to sound… guilty?

Jin looks just as terrified as you. Though for him, it’s because he’s the whole reason this situation is unfolding and guilt is killing him slowly. He can’t let you just die - not because of Taehyung’s reckless and impulsive decision!

Due to his self berating, he misses you grabbing a nearby tree branch. You just needed one, clear shot and JK would go down - just enough for you to run to safety.

You slowly stand, holding the branch tightly like a baseball bat. One, two, one, two, one, two… you chant inwardly, as JK nears closer and closer to your spot.

Peeking out, you notice that the huntsman has his back turned to your hiding spot. It’s now or never.

Creeping out, you lift the branch up high and bring it down hard onto the back of his head.

You hear the dull thud of the branch meeting his skull and you think you’ve done it, but JK whips around and your eyes widen in fear. JK is stunned from the surprise attack and he clumsily moves back, putting distance between the two of you.

The impact has dizzied his senses and the next thing he knows, he’s slipping on something wet and then down, down he goes…

“Did you kill him!?” Jin’s voice comes from the ground, horrified and freaking out. You quickly drop the branch and look at the crumpled form on the forest floor. Shivering, you press the toe of your shoe into his side - he doesn’t respond.

“I-I don’t know! I didn’t mean to kill him,” you begin to ramble, fear bubbling in a whole new form. “Shit, shit,” you hiss, dropping to your knees as you reach a hand out, trembling fingers resting just centimetres between his philtrum and nostrils.

A shaky moment passes and slowly the tension bleeds from your heart as you feel faint air on your fingertips.

“He’s not dead - knocked out cold, but not dead,” you breathe, relief flooding your entire body. You miss how Jin visibly relaxes from your words.

“C’mon, I know a cabin not too far from here. You can rest there - tomorrow we’ll figure out another plan before the King knows you’ve gotten away,” Jin’s voice sounds so far in your head. He’s talking survival tactics, but all you can do is feel tears fill your eyes.

What have you gotten yourself into?

Pushing the bubbling fear and anxiety down, you go around JK’s unconscious form, hooking your arms around and under his armpits.

“What are you doing?” Jin deadpans.

“Dragging JK to that cabin you’re talking about. We can’t just leave him out here. He’ll definitely die from the cold if we do,” you huff, realizing just how heavy the huntsman is.

“Good luck, he’s built like a rock,” Jin mumbles with an eye roll.

Despite the side comments, Jin directs you to the cabin while you haul JK through the woods. You feel bad for his clothes, they’re smeared with dirt and leaves, but at least you can aid that wound on the back of his head once you get inside.

“Are you sure no one lives here,” you ask, feeling anxious after you’re done settling JK onto the spare bed and treating his wound. Your entire body is sore and your bones are weak due to the exertion.

Jin makes a noncommittal noise, his back turned to you in the mirror as if he’s actually looking around the place.

“Get some rest,” he advises instead, trying to sound calm.

He’s praying that Taehyung will forget.

If Taehyung doesn’t, he will find out and when he does, all hell will break loose.

+++

Now that we’re caught up with the present situation, on with the story.

King Taehyung is pissed to say the least. His mirror hasn’t responded to him since that day, which was well over a week ago. And on top of it all, his huntsman, is nowhere to be found. No news, no pigeon messengers, nothing.

Cursing his bad luck, Taehyung paces back and forth in front of Jin’s mirror, waiting impatiently.

“Jin, show yourself before I break the damn’ thing,” Taehyung hisses.

Rolling his eyes at the bossiness, Jin appears, doing his elegant bow. “Your Majesty.”

“Find me JK.”

Jin tenses immediately.

You see, after the whole JK-trying-to-murder-you incident, he was pretty much blacked out for a couple of days. You treated him as best you could with Jin’s help, but nothing seemed to work.

To make matters worse… the cabin was inhabited.

A druid, ancient and almost like a wood nymph owned the tiny place. The druid looked human, he was very tall and had startlingly blue eyes.

Surprise on everyone’s expressions when he opened the door to his room to find you kneeling by JK’s bed, bandages in one hand and scissors in the other. You were fearful at first, but the druid, who told you his name is Namjoon, helped you and JK, healing him.

He didn’t take lightly to having strangers in his cabin, but knew Jin from a lifetime before and had reluctantly allowed you and JK to stay until he was fully healed.

JK was a different story.

Number one, his name is Jungkook.

Two, he’s an orphan that grew up working as a guard for the former King and Queen before their passing. Afterwards, Taehyung recruited him as a special huntsman for secret tasks. This you all found out once you managed to cuff Jungkook to the bed and get him to spill everything. It wasn’t that hard, once Jungkook saw Jin, he was pretty much willing to explain everything, no detail left out.

Now, back to the problem at hand. Jin had hoped you would be safe and sound. Taehyung would’ve and should’ve forgotten about you after nearly two weeks of silence, but instead, it was like the King’s fury had risen with each passing day.

Looking at him now, Jin could see just how each day had ruined the powerful man bit by bit. His hair was ragged and messy, almost like the King had constantly ran his fingers through it in frustration. His robes were askew, no longer pristine and in place immaculately. His eyes had dark circles and his skin looked a little less than brilliant.

“Must I repeat myself, every single time,” Taehyung’s voice sounds, cold and hollow, shaking Jin from his thoughts. “Where is Jungkook.”

“Don’t you think you’re going about this wrong, Your Grace? Look at it this way - she’s just a peasant. Common, filthy, plain. You are a King - highest of the land—“

“I will not ask again - show me where Jungkook is or I will smash you to pieces.”

Jin’s eyes widen. Never, in all the years of bickering and fighting and constant cat/mouse games, has Taehyung ever threatened him like this.

“No.”

It’s Taehyung’s turn to stare in shock. “No?” he echoes, the bright walls suddenly dimmer around him.

“You can’t just murder someone because you feel inferior to them. What would your mother say?”  

“Silence!” Taehyung roars, angry filling his features darkly. “Do you know who I am?! I am the King - the Fairest of them all - and you dare to tell me, this pathetic, low, peasant girl has upped me? Regardless of your lies, I will see to it that her head is served on a silver platter for you. This will teach you to never lie to your King again.” A mad look takes over his handsome features and Jin feels real fear creep up his spine.

“I won’t let you harm her. She’s done nothing of the sort to deserve it. As your friend—“

A harsh, empty laugh cuts through the room and Jin stops. Taehyung looks like the portrait of crazy at this point.

“Friend? You think that you and I are friends?” The King questions, walking up slowly to the mirror, his blue robes swishing almost predatorily behind him. “You think… a damned soul such as yourself would ever be a friend of mine? No. No, absolutely not. I tolerated you - kept you by my side because you were useful. You showed me what I wanted to see - but you were never and will never be more than an ugly piece of decoration in this kingdom.”

Jin stares, mouth agape in horror and shock and sadness. He wants to tell Taehyung to take it back, to admit that they’re friends, that somewhere in that cold, darkened heart of his, he truly does care about Jin and all that they’ve been through. Jin, who was there for him when Taehyung was a young boy, reckless and immature, selfish and alone.

But no. Alas, Taehyung is resolute in his words. His eyes are hard, mouth set into a firm, grim line. It is time for Jin to face the music.

His hands coil into fists by his side and Jin tries to recompose himself as best he can. To hell with Kim Taehyung. After everything, he’s still a selfish, immature brat. With as much venom as he can muster, Jin sarcastically states his goodbye, trying to ignore the stab of heartbreak in his chest. “Very well, Your Majesty… I shall take my leave. All hail the King.”

Taehyung watches as the mirror dims and then Jin is gone. In his place is his own reflection, a shell of a man staring back at him, hollowed - unhappy. With a roar of anger, Taehyung spins from the throne room, heading straight for the library.

This common peasant has done it again!

Taken his closest confidant away from him. He’ll teach her.

He’ll show her just what happens when you mess with the King.  

Throwing open the doors to his personal library, he pulls books upon books out from their spots. No, no - Taehyung is almost insane. His fingers are trembling and his heart feels tight. He hates this feeling - he hasn’t felt like this since his parents — no.

You must not think of that, he tells himself. It’s weak and sad and he hates that feeling. Finally, his fingers feel the velvet. Pulling the book from its spot, he grins almost maniacally once he sees the cover. An ancient spell book that had been passed down from a witch to his father as a gift many, many years ago. His father had warned him to never use it, to keep it and know its contents, but to never use it, for Magic Always Came with A Price.

Ignoring the blatant warning bells in his mind and the echoes of his father’s words, Taehyung flips the book open, fingers leafing through the pages with speed. He’ll show them all - how he’s not lonely or weak. Kim Taehyung deserves to be king - more than anyone in this forsaken land! He grins, just a tad bit insane.

He finds three spells.

The first is a spell that will create a poison with a very rare antidote, which he creates successfully and dips a few apples inside.

The second is a tracking spell. He’ll find her one way or another.

Lastly, the third is an illusion. He needs something that will garner her attention, something that will probably appeal to her heart. Grinning, he settles for the disguise of an old, frail woman.

After all, horror comes in threes.

“Watch out, Y/N. I’m coming for you,” he cackles.

He recites the spell with some difficulty even after reading it over a dozen times.  

A gust of wind beats violently against the castle walls, the candles flickering. Taehyung closes his eyes, feeling the magic surrounding him, filling him up and stretching him to be what he wants.

Even with his eyes closed, he can picture the young woman that Jin had showed him not too long ago. She’s smiling at a group of children as she handles a brand new pie, straight from the oven in the mirrored image. Taehyung feels emotions boil inside him. Emotions he doesn’t want to think about.

Then the magic is gone.

Opening his eyes, he grins, only to falter when he realizes how tall everything looks. Wait.

He starts to walk towards the mirror again, but instead of moving smoothly, he stumbles and then falls, landing on his face. What the hell?

Pushing himself back up, or at least trying to, Taehyung stares in horror at what he finds.

His arms are short and furry!!

Trembling, he stands, looking down at himself.

Oh no… no, no, no…

Running towards the mirror, he stares and the image that stares back at him is horrifying.

He’s a dog!

A two-toned brown dog, small and furry and cute.

Taehyung groans, the sound coming out in a whimper.

Running back to the spell book, he realizes he mispronounced a word. The pesky Latin!

Well.

Closing his eyes, he tries to steady the anger boiling inside him. Fine. This is fine - he’s fine. He’ll go, find Y/N, get her to eat an apple, poison her, and then he’ll force Jin to transform him back. Jin will have to - especially if he wants the antidote to save his precious Y/N.

Stamping his paw down with as much might as he can, Taehyung grabs onto the stem of one apple, already heading towards the door.

He’ll show them.

He’ll show them all!

***

Jin is tense.

You’re in the garden tending to the vegetables, which means you’re safe. For the time being.

Taehyung is on a crazy spree. Which means, he’s after you and will not let you go until he manages to kill you.

“You know, this is kinda your fault,” Jungkook murmurs, pulling apart some bread and tossing a bite into his mouth. “If you didn’t mess with him, we wouldn’t be in this situation.”

“Eat with your mouth closed,” Jin scolds from his spot on the dining table. Namjoon is pretending to not hear them, continually tweaking away at his mini bonsai plant.

Jungkook rolls his eyes and takes another bite of the bread. He’s almost healed now, but he’s decided to stay behind and watch over you. You did save his life after all, even though it was his fault in the first place.

After waking up and finding himself in an unfamiliar place and in immense pain, Jungkook knew it was time to reevaluate his life choices. Thus, here he was, swearing his loyalty to you.

“Seokjin, why do you keep pacing?” Namjoon wonders, standing straight and towering over the small mirror. The compact was left for travelling and now, Jin resided in a medium sized mirror that was toted around the small cabin wherever one of the three habitants would be.

“I keep pacing because I’m worried. You didn’t see him - Taehyung looked mad. Worse than the Mad Hatter!”

“Heh. Hasn’t he always been, though? Ever since the funeral, he’s been spiralling… not to mention, he keeps talking about absorbing more magic and whatnot,” Jungkook talks absently, reaching for another piece of bread.

Jin stops pacing, head whipping to face the younger male. “What - magic? You mean, Taehyung was looking into getting more magic?”

The huntsman nods. “Mm. He was constantly mumbling to himself about a magical book that could grant him whatever he wanted and keep him youthful forever. You know, typical evil talk.”

At this point, Namjoon looks up from his plant, furrowed eyebrows in the huntsman’s direction. “How are you not more… alarmed?”

“I was. I think I still am. It’s just my defence mechanism. You know, dealing with the whole, I-could’ve-died thing.”

Namjoon nods understandingly.

“If he found the book though, that means he’s been using it. Reading it at the very least. Which means he’s on his way here if he’s found the tracking spell,” Jin mutters, more to himself. “But he can’t just leave the castle as is. He’s the King - everyone knows his face.”

“A disguise,” Namjoon supplies.

Jungkook sits straight up. “Yeah, that definitely sounds like Taehyung. He would definitely get a disguise and probably cooked up a whole new murder plan.”

“Y/N!” Jin practically shouts. “Bring me to her! She’s in mortal danger!”

***

Outside, you straighten your back with a satisfying groan. Most of the vegetables were harvested and now you had a nice, filled basket of goodies for the coming days. Carrots, tomatoes, and some potatoes, too.

You’ve almost forgotten about the whole ‘the King of Land of Fairytales wanting me dead’ ordeal.

Humming softly, you go to water the plants by the front of the cabin. Namjoon has been so kind to let you stay, along with JK - now Jungkook. The huntsman had sworn loyalty to you after waking to find you tending to his wounds. Though… he was the one who inflicted them upon himself.

A sudden sound off to the side gets your attention.

You stand up straight, clutching the watering pot close to you.

“Hello?” You wince at the sound of your voice. Haven’t you learned from past tales that you never call out loud to impending danger.

Still, your dumbass is curious and so, you move closer and closer towards the sound.

It’s from a large bush near the front of the cabin. The leaves are ruffling and you’re sure whatever is in there won’t get close, not when you have a magical mirror, huntsman and a druid all nearby.

Pushing the leaves apart, you notice more movement. “What the—“

“Y/N, STEP AWAY!” Jin shouts and you hear Jungkook’s thundering footsteps. A hand lands on your upper arm and you’re steered around. Jin is ready - ready to face his former best friend, the monster of all monsters. How dare he come after you like this?!

However, what greets him isn’t a frail, old woman or an ominous child or demon spawned from hell, but rather�� a dog. An almost puppy-sized Pomeranian, brown and yipping in your arms.

“Uh, Jin,” Jungkook murmurs, also noticing the fluff ball that’s cradled in your arm.

You’re the first one to break the silence, the small ball of adorableness staring up at you. “Oh by the gods,” you gush, unable to help yourself. “You’re so freaking cute!!”

The dog has short legs, a body of brown fur and it’s trying to move, but you don’t notice the way the dog practically growls at Jungkook threateningly. The huntsman backs off, immediately sensing something is way off.

“Jungkook, give me some space. You’re freaking out the poor pup,” you chide softly, too enraptured by the adorable fluff ball to notice the way it’s practically hissing at Jungkook with hatred.

Said man backs off, quickly going back to Namjoon’s side.

“Call me crazy, but I think that’s Taehyung,” Jungkook whispers, his eyes never leaving the yapping dog. He can’t quite understand it, but he’s sure Taehyung is cursing him to the moon and back.

Jin watches from the mirror, calculating his next move. Taehyung isn’t an expert at magic, that much is true. He also managed to turn himself into a dog and found them.

Well.

“Y/N,” Jin calls out and you walk over, carrying your newfound friend with you. “Why don’t you keep it? I think it’s a stray.”

The dog stops barking - well, Taehyung stops shouting - immediately. His eyes hone in on Jin and suddenly the wheels click in his head. Sonofab—

“That sounds like a great idea. We could teach it some tricks. We usually sees wolves, not a stray puppy,” you coo, smiling brightly. “It’s so cute too!”

“Check to see the gender,” Jin supplies, further adding salt to the injury. Taehyung will murder him once he returns back to his normal form.

Without shame, you tilt the dog gently and peek.

“It’s a boy,” you smile without a care, not noticing how Taehyung practically went stiff in your arms, unable to do anything but let out a soft, embarrassed whimper. Jin is smirking at him, almost victoriously.

“Check, mate,” he mouths, smirk widening when he sees Taehyung ready to jump out of your arms and run at the mirror. Unfortunately, you’re far more stronger than him now that he’s a dog.

Thus, Taehyung has lost this round.

+++

The next days are splendid.

You wake up, make breakfast while Namjoon and Jungkook hunt, clean and chat with Jin and of course, spend all your time with your new puppy. You hadn’t been sure what to name him, but ‘Caramel’ seemed fitting since he was a duo brownish colour, darker brown on top and much lighter along his belly.

He constantly ignored his dog food, preferring to eat the human food you had cooked for the others. At first you were worried he’d get sick, but as time went on, you realized Caramel was just special. Even in this short time span, you knew you loved him.

On the other hand, Taehyung has been plotting your murder since day one. But alas, he hasn’t been able to execute it probably. Each and every single time, Jungkook, Jin or even the druid, Namjoon, have managed to foil his plans.

One time, he saw you leaning over the edge of the river bank, trying to fish. He had ran at full speed, hoping to push you into the water. Last minute, Namjoon had pulled you to safety and Taehyung had yipped in fear as he dove headfirst into the wet surface. He wasn’t used to walking, so swimming was far out of the picture. The shock soon wore off and fear gripped him as he felt himself sinking.

A splash was heard and arms grabbed him, pulling him up into safety. He spluttered, as much as he could in this form, ready to thank Jungkook for helping him… only to find it was, well, you.

You were soaked, hair sticking to your face as you watched him with worrisome eyes. “Caramel, be careful!” You scolded, keeping him bundled close.

The pomeranian didn’t know what else to do, shivering from cold, fright, or something else. Without thinking, Taehyung all but snuggled into you and your warmth. Just this once, he tells himself inwardly. Tomorrow he would try to kill you again.

Of course, the days that spanned soon turned into weeks. Each day, Taehyung spent with you, he forgot about wanting to kill you. Ever since the riverbank incident, you’ve kept your eye on the pomeranian, not wanting anymore accidents. Despite all the attention (much to Jin’s chagrin), Taehyung was beginning to warm up to you, whether or not he realized it.

In fact… he dare say, he was beginning to like you.

That is - if Taehyung had emotional understanding, he would realize it. But he didn’t. So he continued to be rather dense.

One night in particular, after dinner, Namjoon had offered to wash the dishes with Jungkook, deciding you should have free time after rushing around all day doing this and that. Jin had hummed in agreement, though he seemed distracted with something. The mirror bid you all goodnight, leaving only the two cleaners, you and Caramel.

Not wanting to go to sleep just yet, you wrapped yourself in a shawl that Namjoon had given to you a few days prior (“For the colder nights,” he had smiled warmly, dimples showing).

“Caramel,” you whisper, crouching next to the dog almost falling asleep on the armchair. “Do you want to see the stars with me?”

Taehyung perks at that, turning to face you. The last time he’s seen the stars was when his parents were still alive and well. The three of them had gone to the highest tower in the castle and gazed out, while having a nightly picnic of treats. He makes a low noise of agreement and you scoop him up, heading towards the back of the cabin.

The air is a little chilly, but you wrap the shawl tightly around your shoulders. Taking a seat on the wooden porch of the cabin, you bring your knees to your chest, head tipped upwards. Taehyung looks up, too, eyes widening at the sight before him.

“Wow,” you breathe amazedly. Taehyung mirrors you in agreement.

The moon is full and bright, high in the night sky. Around it are a million sparkling stars, some larger than others. It’s like the entire world has faded away, leaving only the two of you to see this swirling sea of endless beauty.

“You know, that big star right there,” you point out, getting the dog’s attention. “That’s Sirius. In other words, it’s known as the ‘dog star,’” you grin, “like you.”

Taehyung scoffs - you’ve got jokes.

You giggle feeling the sassy response from your companion. “It’s the brightest star in the entire galaxy, Caramel. Which means you’re one pretty special doggie.”

He doesn’t know why, but he turns to look at you and your side profile makes something in him feel… warm. Blaming the night chill, he presses his smaller form against you. Noticing, you lift and place him in your lap, wrapping the shawl around the both of you, while letting his head peek out to watch the stars.

“You want to know the funniest thing? I’m a common peasant… no family, no money, nothing to my name but my person. I work at a tavern, serving brutes and drunks all day long. All I wanted was my own fairytale ending… like those princesses I see strolling the street markets day after day,” you sigh. “Turns out the King wants me dead… I don’t even know why. Then there’s a magic mirror, a huntsman and a druid. I was all alone before they came to me… did you know that?”

Taehyung watches you, unable to look away. Something akin to guilt grips at his heart. He too, knows the feeling of loneliness. Ever since his parents’ death, he’s been alone. No friends truly cared, no family members wanted to take him in - all he had were servants and those that wanted the throne.

These past days that he’s been with you, he’s seen how you are. You’re hardworking, kind, always looking out for others. Always got a warm smile on your face, even when you’re sad. You try to hide the pain to not be a burden. And himself? He’s nothing but a spoilt brat sitting on the throne, complaining and whining when things don’t go his way.

“And the thing is… I’m scared they’ll all leave me. So while I hate the King for putting me in this situation, I’m also grateful because of him, I met some really, really wonderful friends.” You smile, looking down at the pomeranian.

Your eyes shine with unshed tears.

Taehyung whimpers, leaning up to lick the tears away before he can second guess his actions.

“But most of all, I’m glad I have you, Caramel. You’re… special to me. I don’t know how to explain it, but it’s like you get me. You understand what I’m saying and how I feel. …even though you’re a huge troublemaker,” you tease, voice soft.

Taehyung’s heart doubles in speed.

Even though you didn’t have lips as red as rose, hair as dark as ebony, skin as white as snow… Taehyung finds you, in a puzzling way, perfect. Especially with the way the moonlight shines down on you, basking you in a white, ethereal glow.

“I love you, Caramel. I hope I never lose you,” you admit, squeezing him a little tighter in your embrace.

Taehyung finds he doesn’t care. He hugs you back as much as he can in this form, nuzzling closer to your soothing heartbeat.

He hasn’t felt like this in a long time. No longer lonely and isolated. He feels… happy.

Is Taehyung — the cold, hollow, ice King — falling in love?

You pet him, cuddle him, read stories to him - you even teach him tricks (which he hates, but he does because you smile when he successfully accomplishes one and it makes his tiny heart flutter). Heck, you even talk to him! It’s something Taehyung has missed ever since his parents’ passing and while he tries to push the thought away, he can’t pretend that his little (doggie) heart isn’t thumping for you. Because damn’, it is.

He’s gotten belly rubs and pets; warm, good, homestyle cooking made just for him with love and care. You give him forehead kisses and tell him your deepest wishes and desires, all the while just enjoying his presence even though he doesn’t/can’t say anything back! Yet, you never become frustrated or upset with him. Even when he’s being a ‘bad doggie’.

You genuinely care for him.

He sees the way Jin smirks at him when you get up to fetch another nighttime story and Taehyung growls lowly under his breath. The mirror chuckles and goes back to doing whatever he was doing before being a nosy-eavesdropper.

Taehyung is happy. He hasn’t felt this free in years and he doesn’t want to quite give up the doggy lifestyle just yet.

After all, he still needed to murder you and since that wasn’t really on his agenda anymore, he decided that he would stay just a little bit longer.

At least… until he could figure out why he couldn’t bear to leave you behind as he returned to his kingly duties.

+++

But of course, life is filled with trials and tribulations.

One fateful day, there is a knock at the door. Taehyung is busy sitting in your lap, eating the omelette you’ve cooked for him. Jungkook gets the door and lo and behold, it is Prince Jimin from the neighbouring castle.

Prince Jimin, with his coiffed silvery hair, smoky eyes and pouting, full lips.

The door widens some more and Taehyung is able to make out that there are two other men behind the Prince.

“Hello,” Jimin smiles, all princely and kind. Taehyung would roll his eyes if he could. The snob. “Would it be alright if I come in?”

“Oh - yes, please,” You start, already standing and gently placing Taehyung on the ground. He pouts. How dare you put him down because of this other, snivelling male. He watches as you walk over to Jimin, curtsying as best you can. He also doesn’t miss the way Jimin can’t seem to take his eyes off of you - the way there’s a shade of light pink dusting the Prince’s cheeks. A growl starts in Taehyung’s throat.

“Welcome to our humble abode, Your Highness,” Namjoon greets, bowing. “To what do we owe this pleasure?”

Jimin smiles still as he enters the small cabin, the two men following close behind. “I was just coming to visit you. I have some questions about my garden and was hoping you would be able to give me some advice… though, I dare say, I’ve come upon an even more beautiful treasure.”

Your eyes widen when you notice how the Prince looks at you, his eyes sparkling.

Jungkook clears his throat from beside you and Jimin notices how he’s eyeing the two men behind him. “Ah - yes! This is Yoongi, he is my Royal Advisor.” Said man is roughly around Jimin’s height, dressed in black, but his blazer is covered in an intricate pattern that is similar to the Prince’s. Black hair falls over cat-like eyes and Taehyung feels the bark in him die down, especially when the advisor turns his gaze onto him. It’s as if Yoongi can see right through his disguise.

“This here is Hoseok, my royal guard,” the man on his left, slightly taller, dark hair sweeping across his forehead. His eyes are focused on Jungkook, almost assessing the situation if anything were to break out.

“Would you two cut it out,” Jimin whines after a moment of tense silence. “This is why I didn’t want you accompanying me. It feels like a funeral with you two!”

You blink in surprise. Prince Jimin is handsome, but when he breaks from his serious face, he’s got a pouty, almost childlike glee to him. You chuckle, catching the Prince’s attention. A small smile lights up his face.

“Well, since you’ve come all this way, I suppose I’ll go back to take a look at the gardens,” Namjoon states, already walking towards the carriage waiting outside.

“Would your… friends care to join us,” Jimin wonders, gaze still fixed on yours.

“Sure!”

“Bark!”

Both you and Taehyung speak at the same time and it grabs Jimin’s attention. You watch in alarm at the way Caramel is poised, tense and ready to attack the Prince, despite the size difference.

Bending down, you quickly scoop the pomeranian into your arms. “As long as he can come. He gets fussy when I leave him alone for a long period,” you try to reason, struggling to keep your hold because it looks like he’s about to maul Jimin to pieces.

The Prince chuckles nervously, and while his two companions say nothing more, you notice how Yoongi’s eyes have amusement dancing in them as he watches the dog.

Soon you all set off, Jin, the magic mirror in tow as well.

Jimin’s castle is beautiful, tall, bright and filled with colourful people and decorations. There’s always music and laughter and you find yourself loving the atmosphere.

Namjoon tends to his gardens, while Jungkook and Jin go off to browse the castle grounds and the places outside. You keep Caramel close to your side, worried that he’ll get into even more trouble if you leave him alone.

All seems well. And all would be. You found a handsome, charming Prince; you have a group of wonderful, newfound friends - even Yoongi and Hoseok are quite nice, once you get past the whole serious facade they put up to guard their leader.

It should be a Happy Ever After.

But.

It’s not.

You see, this isn’t what Taehyung wanted. He doesn’t want to see you and Jimin getting along just swell. Laughing over shared jokes, talking and exchanging ideas, likes, dislikes, becoming closer each growing day. Soon, what was supposed to only be a visit almost becomes permanent.

Namjoon grows to love the garden and postpones leaving, despite Taehyung’s constant barking and ankle nipping to get the druid to understand he wants to leave. But Namjoon is far denser than the King and he doesn’t even spare a glance as he starts to avoid the small pomeranian.

Then an idea hits.

A devilish, perfect, evil idea.

Taehyung treks the journey back to the cabin - not that far when you have four legs. He finds the poisonous apple he had hidden behind the shrubs… a little gross looking, but nonetheless edible if he could clean it with some water. Holding the stem in his teeth, he treks back to the castle quickly.

New Plan: Poison Prince Jimin.

Y/N no longer loves him because he’s dead.

Y/N chooses to return home to the cabin in the woods with him.

You and Taehyung live happily ever after.  

The End.

“You’re jealous,” Jin’s teases when he sees Taehyung in his doggy form pacing around your empty bedroom.

You had went to have dinner with the others earlier. Taehyung had feigned sleepiness, so you had tucked him into your bed, pressing a sweet kiss to his head as you left. The moment you were gone, Taehyung had sprung up and tried to get to the poisoned apple underneath your mattress. He didn’t expect Jin to show up, but here he was, watching Taehyung through your new, vanity mirror.

A bark.

“That’s a foul word, even for you, My King,” Jin drawls, arms crossed. They haven’t really spoken that much - not since the Big Fight.

But Jin has a big, soft heart and he can’t stand to watch Taehyung fall apart. So while they haven’t spoken, the older has kept an eye on him to make sure he never went too far with his shenanigans. Now seemed like one of those times.

“What are you going to do - poison Jimin? Y/N won’t like that,” Jin tries to reason, missing the way Taehyung struggles with getting the stem of the apple into his teeth and out from under the bed.

Another bark.

“That’s not a good idea. You’ve already attempted murder, what, a handful of times and each one has ended up badly. Don’t you think this means you, oh, I don’t know - not murder anymore??”

Another bark and a string of growls.

“Pfft. Right back at you,” Jin scoffs. “Taehyung - look. If you love her, like I know you do, just talk to her - I can help you find a spell to turn back into yourself. She’ll love you for you. All you have to do is make a few personality changes, you know - less moody, less bossy, less—“ Jin stops.

As he turned to face the dog, he realized two things: Taehyung is not there. The room is empty.

***

You and Jimin are in the dining room, alone - how fitting.

The Prince is trying to teach you a magic trick involving a string. He’s demonstrating it once more and you’re enraptured by the neat trick. Taehyung hates how his heart is squeezing and running forward, he drops the apple by Jimin’s ankle. Barking once to gather the Prince’s attention.

Jimin looks down, surprise on his face to see your pomeranian beaming up at him, sitting on his hind legs and tail wagging.

“Oh, for me?”

Taehyung’s eyes widen.

It’s your hand that reaches towards the granny smith apple.

That beautiful smile on your face and he can’t — you can’t die!

Without thinking and clearly freaking out, he growls hoping to scare you.

Instead, you frown at the dog, hand closed around the apple and bringing it towards your face. “Caramel, what are you—“

Taehyung does what he can only do in this situation.

He eats the apple.

You watch in shock as your dog begins to whimper as he stares up at you, suddenly brown eyes looking like they were… crying?

Panic squeezes your chest and you drop to your knees, pulling the pomeranian close. “H-hey, what’s wrong?”

Taehyung feels immense pain course through him.

“Get help! Someone get help!” You shout in alarm, acidic tears pricking at your eyes.

Jimin is on his feet, quickly calling for Namjoon and Yoongi.

The doors to the dining room fly open, several people running towards the Prince and you.

Before they can get near you, a bright, blinding flash of light fills the room.

You close your eyes shut tight, keeping the dog securely in your arms.

Just as quick as the light was there, it’s gone.

And in its place, in your arms, is no longer Caramel, your adorable pomeranian - but a man.

Naked, caramel-coloured skin, eyes closed and definitely unconscious.

You stare in shock.

Everyone in the room is deathly quiet, until Jimin breaks the silence.

“Oh my gods… is that — Taehyung?!” All eyes turn to Jimin, including yours.

Wait, as in King Taehyung - the man who ordered Huntsman Jungkook to murder you almost a month ago?!

Jin and Jungkook are standing there, watching in horror because no one was supposed to find out about Taehyung’s disguise and also - why isn’t he moving?!

“He ate the apple,” you choke out, suddenly aware and connecting all the dots. “He ate the apple and now he’s not moving!”

Yoongi swiftly kneels beside you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Let me see him.” You want to refuse, want to argue that they can’t touch him - not when you don’t even know what to do yourself. But the advisor gives you a reassuring squeeze and you hesitantly let Caramel — Taehyung go.

***

A wave of exhaustion hits you as you wait impatiently outside the royal infirmary.

Yoongi is also a trained physician, especially in ancient magic, much like Namjoon, and the two have not left the room since they took Taehyung into it.

You feel your nerves going as you sit there, waiting for something.

“Y/N.” Looking up, you see Jungkook looking worriedly at you.

Hoseok has been leaning against the wall to the infirmary, stationary and quiet ever since Jimin went in with Jin. Jungkook had offered to stay behind to comfort you, worried about how you were reacting to the sudden events.

“He’s - he’s really the King? The same King who hired you to kill me,” you ask, voice surprisingly clear.

Jungkook winces. “Yes… he, well, I grew up with him. His parents took me in from the orphanage. Hoped they could have me as Taehyung’s friend, but after their deaths, Taehyung pushed me away. Trained me to become his personal assassin - he was always paranoid everyone was against him,” Jungkook explains.

Groaning, you bury your face into your hands. “Why is my life so messed up?” You mumble. You miss the way Hoseok and Jungkook exchange an empathetic glance.

The door to the infirmary opens and you immediately look up. Jimin’s half-standing out of the door, handing something to Hoseok as he exchanges words quietly with his guard. The Prince turns to you, a somber expression on his face before he apologetically closes the door once more, shutting you out.

“My Lady,” Hoseok begins, treading lightly as he turns towards you.

You sit up. Beside you, Jungkook is tensed, worried about what Hoseok might do.

“His Majesty says the warlock would like to exchange some words with you.”

Hoseok hands you the small compact mirror and you thank him. Nodding, he goes back to his post, back turned to you as he waits silently.

Jin’s face appears in the mirror and he looks just as exhausted as you. “Y/N, I think… you have a lot of questions. Please, I’ll try to answer whatever you ask me.”

“Jin - just what the hell is going on,” you hiss, tears pricking at your eyes. “You better not lie to me anymore or I swear I’ll throw you into the dumpster!”

The man in the mirror feels immense guilt at seeing you so sad.

He finally tells you.

Jin tells you how from the beginning he was a renowned warlock, powerful and ancient. He grew cocky and as a punishment, a group of supernatural beings got together and cast a curse over him. He was to be locked inside the mirror that hung in Taehyung’s castle until true love came along to set him free. Even Namjoon, who was almost as old as Jin, couldn’t set him free with his magic. From there, years passed and Taehyung came along. The two became like brothers and soon, Jungkook joined the warlock’s world.

When Taehyung’s family passed, everything changed. Taehyung changed. He shut everyone out, closed his heart and became an ice cold King. Jin wanted to break through the mask, wanted to have the goofy, immature Prince back that he once knew. So he told a lie which spiralled out of control and brought them to where they are now.

You tear your eyes away from the image Jin has created in the mirror for you. The castle — Taehyung’s castle — is nothing like Jimin’s.

It’s gloomy, the servants in the image look monotonous and dreary, even the castle is sparse and filled with only decorations for the sake of filling empty spaces. Nothing is homey about Taehyung’s kingdom. You can’t help but feel bad for him… even after everything Jin has told you.

“I-is there a cure? To wake him up,” you ask.

“There is, but I don’t think Taehyung will ever wake up,” Jin answers sadly, his head hanging.

“What is it? Maybe I can help.”

“It’s True Love’s Kiss,” the warlock responds, frowning. “Y/N, no one has ever loved Taehyung that way; no one but his parents. How can you possibly wake him up? Even I - his longtime companion feel anger when I think of all the mess he’s caused.”

You quickly stand, startling Jungkook. “Even if we feel anger, it doesn’t mean we don’t love him. I mean - you, you love him. So why don’t we try? I’m sure after all this time, you or Jungkook must feel something for the King.”

The huntsman makes a face. “I definitely am not kissing him. I know for a fact I don’t love him like that.”

“…could you?” Your eyes widen at Jin’s request. “He - he’s spent so much time with you as Caramel! Even if his name was never known to you, you must’ve felt something for all the time you spent together. Even if it’s just warmth. He clearly feels something for you - I mean,” Jin babbles.

You hate Taehyung.

He made you go on the run, almost get murdered by Jungkook, live in a cabin for fear of him finding out you were still alive - and it turns out, he disguised himself as your adorable pomeranian and tried to kill Jimin with a poisoned apple after he got jealous of your divided attention! Logically, it made sense why you hated the man. He was selfish and cruel and a narcissistic psychopath, you reasoned with yourself.

Even if he listened to you when you spoke and read to him, nuzzled into your side when you were sad that you could never return to normalcy.

Followed you no matter where you went, even if it was dangerous. Fought off stray wolves during your treks to find more food regardless of the size difference…

Played and did all the tricks you taught him - even though you now know he wasn’t a regular dog but the King of the Land! He still went out of his way to make you happy, when all he had to do was walk back to his castle and go back to his life.

He did whatever he could to make you smile.

Sighing, you give in.

Even if you are angry and you have every right to be, Taehyung is a straight up asshole - you want to save him. You want to save him because it just felt like the right thing to do and you couldn’t bear to see Taehyung die alone…

Pushing open the door to the infirmary, you enter to find Yoongi and Namjoon conversing over a large book. Jimin is sitting by Taehyung’s side, watching the King with a fond expression.

“Y/N,” Jimin greets, immediately standing when he sees you. “Is everything alright?���

“I know what will wake up,” you begin, exchanging a look with Jin. The older man nods gratefully. “It’s True Love’s Kiss.”

Jimin blanches visibly. “Y-you’re going to kiss him?”

“One of us has to,” you grumble, feeling your cheeks grow hot. “Are you?”

Jimin quickly shakes his head.

Huffing, you push him aside as you walk up to Taehyung’s bed. The male looks… peaceful. Almost. His eyes are closed and you can see just how long his eyelashes are. You also notice the moles that decorate his caramel skin. One on his nose and one on his bottom lip.

“Are you sure, Y/N? You don’t have to do this,” Jimin begins, thinking you’re second guessing your actions.

“N-no, it’s fine. I’m just. You’re all watching me work a miracle, it’s unnerving.”

“Take your time,” Namjoon offers, a kind smile on his face.

Nodding, you take a deep breath. Here goes something.

Leaning over, you squeeze your eyes shut and kiss Taehyung - a quick peck on the lips.

Pulling back quickly, you watch, waiting for the man to sit up.

Nothing happens.

Behind you, you hear Hoseok clear his throat. “…maybe it takes a moment,” he shrugs, scratching the back of his neck.

A moment passes and still nothing. Your eyes widen. It didn’t work! Maybe you aren’t Taehyung’s true love after all!

You turn, facing Jin with panic. “It should work, you’re the only one that should be able to wake him,” Jin states, more to himself before quickly disappearing after his words.

Great. Jin just left.

“Maybe you’re not kissing him hard enough?” Jimin wonders.

You like Jimin. Really, you do - but his comment irks you more than you let on. “Why don’t you trying kissing him then,” you hiss.

Jimin makes a disgusted face, crossing his arms. “No, no, I rather not. He’s a real drag.”

“You know, I saw something like this once. It was in a tale,” Yoongi begins almost conspiratorially.

Namjoon nods sagely. “Yes, I believe I do know that tale. The Princess needed a scale from a mere folk’s fin to wake her lover up.”

Jimin and Hoseok are now going to where Jungkook is standing by the window, all three conversing quietly.

You look around, noticing how everyone is muttering amongst themselves, trying to find a solution now that you clearly didn’t work.

The conversation around you begins to get on your nerves. They’re talking as if you were some trial that wasn’t successful in a laboratory!

Turning back to face Taehyung with a sense of newfound gusto, you lean down again. “You want true love’s kiss, fine.”

Grabbing Taehyung’s face, you press your lips to his more insistently now.

You try to ignore how soft his lips feel even though he’s clearly not had moisturizer or lip ointment during his time as a dog. That and he smells heavenly. Seriously, was it just a royalty thing??

Then — something just clicks.

It’s like time has stopped and you’re flying because suddenly, you feel hands on your face and the lips on yours begin to move, deepening the kiss. You groan, unable to stop yourself. The taste is addicting, making you yearn and want more.

Your fingers find their way into soft hair and you’re tugging enough to earn a hiss from the man below. He licks at your lips, asking for entrance and you almost grant it - until your mind reels you back to the present and where you are.

You pull away, mortified at what has happened.

“Y-you’re up?” you ask, unable to hide the breathlessness to your voice.

Taehyung is definitely and visibly up. His dark eyes are fixed on you, lips swollen and thoroughly kissed and his hair is a mess thanks to your wandering hands.

Remembering where you both are, he clears his throat, turning his gaze upwards to face the ceiling. “Uh, yeah. You - you kissed me?”

You nod. “To you know, break the spell of your poison apple!”

“Right,” Taehyung immediately replies, red dusting his cheeks. “Right. T-thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

The entire room is quiet. Awkward silence filters the atmosphere.

“I should go,” you swallow, feeling embarrassed at how the situation has unfolded.

Taehyung doesn’t ask you to stay and you don’t miss the way your heart squeezes at that. You notice the rest of the room just watching you two interact with bated breath - even Jin is back from wherever he disappeared off to.

“Excuse me,” you quickly curtsy to Jimin, before you’re fleeing from the room.

…unfortunately this is how our two lover’s story ends.

King Taehyung and Y/N go their separate ways. Taehyung goes back to his castle with Jungkook and Jin after thanking Prince Jimin for letting him stay. Namjoon chooses to accompany Taehyung back, especially after the King offers the druid position as a royal advisor. Jimin and Taehyung shake on it, promising to meet outside of royal affairs to become better acquainted again - after all, they were the best of friends when they were both just young boys. Yoongi and Hoseok continue on with their lives, though Taehyung can’t help but flush every time Yoongi meets his gaze. It’s like the advisor knows something Taehyung doesn’t (or doesn’t want to acknowledge anyways).

You go back home, declining Jimin’s request to stay by his side. You like the Prince, he’s handsome, charming, funny and he’s what every singleton in the Land of Fairytales is after - but he’s not for you. You thank him for everything he’s done and wish him the best in finding a better lover. Jimin doesn’t pressure you and you think it’s because he too realizes your heart never belonged to him in the first place.

Days pass and you’re back on track again for normalcy and the mundane. Though, you don’t complain as much as you used to. You quit the tavern upon returning, deciding to try your hand at a different occupation. You just know there’s something out there waiting for you - something great and wonderful and you’re going to find it on your own.

In his castle, Taehyung is miserable. Not because of his lifestyle. No, he’s changed things around a bit - new decorations, new guidelines, he even smiles a bit more to his workers and servants than he had previously. The magic spell book is placed back in its storage spot and he’s managed to recover as best he can the friendships with Jungkook and Jin.

But he’s unhappy. He doesn’t ask Jin who’s the fairest of them all anymore - it no longer fancies him to know and he honestly doesn’t even care anymore about that.

“You look awful,” Jin voices one afternoon on a sunny day. Both, he and Taehyung are watching as Namjoon teaches Jungkook basic, forestry magic. It’s endearing to see how the younger quickly fawns over the druid, almost heart-eyed.

“I haven’t slept well,” Taehyung lies.

“Because you miss her?”

A grunt is all the warlock gets in response. “You should find her. She’s waiting for you, too, you know.”

“What, you’ve been stalking her?”

“No. We still talk, even if you no longer bother to reach out. She’s a good one… pure and kind-hearted. Tougher than you think,” Jin chuckles.

“I know she’s tough, I just don’t want her feeling pressured to be with me because of what we went through. Trauma isn’t meant to create happiness.”

Not for the first time since their return, Jin is impressed. Taehyung has definitely matured quite a bit.

“I don’t think it’s trauma. She would’ve run for the hills if she hated you. Clearly - she doesn’t.”

Taehyung is quiet, mulling over the elder’s words.

“Do you love her?”

“Yes,” Taehyung responds without hesitation. “So much that it hurts without her here. I just…” Taehyung sighs. “I just want to be with her.”

“Then go!” Jin practically shouts. “What are you waiting for?! No one is going to just drop her into your lap because you want her - you have to go get her yourself! Stop being a coward and go to her,” Jin wants to shake the foolish King.

Looking out at the land before him, Taehyung realizes he really doesn’t care about all of this. If you’re not by his side, he doesn’t want any of it - none of the riches or the fame. He wants your kindness and your smiles. He wants you reading him bedtime stories, expressing your wishes and deepest thoughts with him. Side by side, watching the stars like you had back at the cabin. Just the two of you.

“But I cannot do that to her,” he murmurs at last, shoulders drooping. “She wants a life for herself. If I profess my love to her and keep her here in the kingdom, she’ll never have the adventures and journeys she’s craving.”

Jin scoffs. Of all the time to be a good man, King Taehyung chooses now.

Suddenly, a wickedly good idea sparks into Jin’s mind!

Why didn’t he think of it before? This way, both the King and Y/N get their wishes to come true!

Grinning gleefully, he turns to face Taehyung - the younger looking at Jin skeptically.

“Why are you smiling like that? It is rather… unsettling,” he murmurs, feeling the hair on the back of his neck stand.

“Oh, Your Majesty - I have just the thing for you.”

+++

You sigh for the umpteenth time that day.

You had quit your job at the tavern. Which means, no more money coming into your pockets, despite how little the wage already was. Now you have nothing coming in anymore, period.

Your supposed home is a tiny, broom closet. You’ve lost contact with all your former friends, minus Jin. The warlock still pops in from time to time to check on things. You’re grateful for the bond you two have, even though you’re certain it’s because Jin is still guilty of how he practically ruined your life.

When you returned back ‘home,’ you were certain you were going to take your life into your own hands. Adventures! Journeys! You wanted to visit the Isle of the Mere, see the North Kingdom — maybe take a yearlong cruise!

Taehyung had given you a hefty sum of money and shiny treasures for his gratitude to you for saving him countless times. Not that you wanted or needed it. If anything, it hurt you more knowing the King rewarded you with things for The Kiss.

Ah. The kiss… you couldn’t lie and say it didn’t affect you at all. Because, oh boy, it did.

After countless nights of tossing and turning, of having the man invade every single one of your thoughts throughout the day, you couldn’t help but finally take some serious self-reflection. You love(?) Kim Taehyung.

Even though he’s cocky, insane and a tad murderous — you miss him. You miss him listening to you when you told him your thoughts and feelings. You miss how comfortable you felt watching the stars in Namjoon’s backyard. You miss the way he went out of his way to make you happy, even in the form of a small pomeranian dog.

You’re so lost in your thoughts that you don’t realize you’ve stopped walking now, having arrived back at the cabin in the woods once more. Namjoon no longer lives here, having moved to Taehyung’s castle. You frown, it is truly uninhabited now.

Moving past the gate, you approach the front door, memories rushing back to you. Another sigh leaves you. You miss everyone. You miss the times you spent with them. No matter how trivial it might seem to them, it meant something special to you.

Suddenly, the neigh of a horse grabs your attention. Twirling around, you stare in shock at seeing a figure cloaked in deep blue robes on a magnificent stallion.

It’s Taehyung. You recognize that face a mile away. His hair is different, no longer the curly black, but now a bright, startling blue that matches his robes. He’s eyes widen when he notices you, quickly pulling his horse to a stop.

“Y-Y/N?” he asks, almost like he’s afraid he’s hallucinating.

“Hi,” you greet, soft and unsure.

“What are you doing here,” he wonders. “N-not that you’re not allowed here! You’re always allowed here - whenever you want…” he begins to trail off, tips of his ears turning red.

Your lips twitch. How cute.

“I was daydreaming and ended up back here,” you admit.

“You were,” he asks, surprised.

You nod. “May I ask what his Majesty is doing here? There are no royal guards… no druid, definitely no huntsman.” You can’t help the teasing lilt from lacing your tone.

Catching the sarcastic tint, Taehyung chuckles lowly, getting off his horse and walking closer to the front gate. “Well… I’m not stalking you if that’s what you’re worried about. I don’t… I don’t want you dead anymore — like, at all.”

You bite your bottom lip, unable to keep the smile at bay.

Taking your silence as discomfort, he starts rambling. “Jin told me to come visit the cabin. He said there was something I needed to pick up here - clearly, he was putting me up to something. Not that I’m not happy to see you, because I am! After all, you’re my saviour and I don’t - I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable at all…”

You walk towards him, stopping just shortly in front of him, the small gate dividing you two.

“I’m not uncomfortable, Your Grace. In fact,” you give him a small, but genuine smile. “I’m really happy to see you again. Even if you know, you’re not Caramel anymore.”

The blunette looks at you, unable to stop himself as he reaches out, hesitantly letting his fingers hover over your cheek. Noticing how unsure he is, you reach up, enveloping his large hand with yours, pressing the feel of his fingertips against the smooth expanse of your cheek. Your eyelids flutter at the touch, a content sigh leaving you.

“I’ll always be Caramel to you,” he whispers, like he’s afraid the moment will be ruined.

You watch him, gaze resting on his soft lips before moving up to his startling, electric gaze. By the gods. Jin was definitely right about Taehyung being the fairest of them all. Your heart skips a beat at the way he’s watching you. How you crave to taste him again.

As if sensing your inner thoughts, His Majesty moves closer to you, his free hand resting shyly on your upper arm and drawing you closer. “I’ve missed you,” he admits, a breath away from your lips.

Your heart thunders in your chest, loud and erratically. “I’ve missed you, too,” you murmur, eyes half-lidded as you look back at him.

“Can I…?”

You nod, tilting your head and enjoying just how warm his body heat is against yours.

A few strands of blue locks tickle your forehead and your cheek, but you don’t care - all that matters is the feel of Taehyung’s lips against your own.

So close… so cl—

“Ahem!”

The sound springs both you and Taehyung apart, effectively ruining the mood.

“Sorry, was I interrupting?” Jin’s voice echoes from between you two.

You watch as Taehyung shoots you an apologetic smile, stuffing his hands into his robes, rummaging around before pulling out a small, compact mirror.

“Hi, Y/N,” Jin chirps, as if he didn’t just ruin a beautiful moment between you and the King. You wave, unable to keep the smile from your face. It’s nice to see Jin again - even though the warlock calls you daily.

“So,” Jin sing-songs, “I come bearing good news! I’ve spoken with Taehyung - er, His Majesty, and he has agreed to have you as his royal noblewoman. You are his Saviour, after all!”

“Me?” You question, taken aback.

“I did?” Taehyung blurts out.

You turn to face the blue-haired man, but he looks just as surprised as you. Jin shoots Taehyung a dirty look and you watch as the the King hastily excuses himself, spinning and exchanging, quiet, angry grunts with the mirror warlock.

“You didn’t tell me—“

“Because you would’ve backed out!”

“I’m your King…!”

“King, my ass—“

“Excuse me, I’m sorry to interrupt, but it’s alright. I don’t want or need to be a noblewoman. I’m sure Jin is just being helpful, but really, it puts unnecessary burden on His Majesty and I couldn’t do that,” you bow, quickly apologizing.

“Y/N, please don’t. No need to address me so formally. I… I would love for you to be a noblewoman of my court. In fact,” Taehyung blushes. “I would love it if you would consider being my right hand, alongside Namjoon as royal advisor. You have… eye-opening insight into things that I don’t understand. I value that - and you, in my life.”

You stare, eyes wide as saucers.

“I-if you want!” Taehyung quickly tacks on, hoping he doesn’t sound desperate. “It’s entirely your choice. Don’t feel forced to do anything!”

Bringing your hand to your mouth, you bite back a laugh. He’s too cute for his own good.

“Well… I love to, Your Majesty.”

A look of loving awe is on his face. “Really?”

“Really.”

Taehyung can’t keep the grin from adorning his handsome features as you two ride back to his castle.

+++

Life with Taehyung is beautiful.

The two of you danced around another for a few more months. He never brought up the kiss and neither did you. You both shared knowing glances and shy smiles, the sexual tension impalpable, but neither of you acted on it. It grew to a point that even Jin was beginning to complain about you two making lovey-dovey eyes at one another while having breakfast.

Still, no one could say that they didn’t notice the way Taehyung’s eyes lit up when you entered the room. Or how your smile was so bright and genuine when you saw him in passing or when you two finally sat down for dinner together.

It was an unspoken bond you two shared, a bubble that only you two lived together in.

Gone were the rags and now you dressed in riches each day. Sometimes you found it stuffy: the corset, the bellowing dresses - they just weren’t for you.

Of course, Taehyung noticed. And when he did, he went out of his way to have custom tailored pieces of clothing for you. Some were pants, others were dresses that didn’t have as many layers and poofiness to it.

Even though he wasn’t your Caramel anymore, he remained as by your side as ever.

You two went on adventures and journeys together, sometimes to other royal functions and others to more common events. Nonetheless, you two were well known throughout the land as inseparable - constantly glued to one another.

After dancing around one another for what felt like centuries, you and Taehyung were together in the library one special afternoon — very much alone and very much aware of that.

It was rather quiet at first. You trying to read a book, while Taehyung browsed through numerous legal documents Namjoon and Jungkook gathered from Jimin’s latest visit.

A frustrated groan and the book you were reading was forgotten. “Need some help, Tae?”

Ever since you two became closer, Taehyung no longer wanted to hear ‘His Majesty’ falling from your lips. He treated you as an equal to him and here you were, even giving him a personal nickname that you only used in private.

“Please. These documents are going to be the death of me,” he grumbles, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

Hiding your smile, you pull up a seat beside him, leafing through the many aged scrolls. “Wow, Yoongi wasn’t kidding when he said we would be busy…”

“Not the kind of busy, I want to be,” you hear the blue-haired man complain under his breath.

You two work in silence despite the ever growing tension. Hours pass by and you two are still nowhere near done. You notice the stars are beginning to light the sky outside the window, the lantern dimming with the wax melting.

Moaning, you stretch, arms lifted above your head, your body taunt for just a split moment. You miss the way Taehyung’s mouth waters at the sight of slightly exposed skin - your navel. He draws his gaze away quickly, leaning forward to reach another document.

Unfortunately (read, fortunately), you’re also reaching for the same scroll. You tug, just as he pulls.

You go flying forward from the unexpected strength and Taehyung drops the scroll, immediately wrapping his arms around you to keep you from falling.

This close, you’re able to see just how long his lashes are. Wow. You blush.

“S-sorry,” you murmur, leaning up, your hands resting on his firm (has he been working out?) chest. You draw your gaze away from what may lay beneath the silken robes, eyes meeting his.

It’s quiet, save for the occasional drip of melting candle wax and the quiet creaks of the castle walls.

Taehyung can’t help the way his heart beats. You look breathtakingly beautiful in the dim lighting, similar to how you looked on the cabin porch all those months ago.

It’s now or never, he thinks. Fuck it—

“I want you.” Taehyung whispers, worried he’ll scare you away.

You draw back just slightly, drinking in his gaze. There’s not a single sign of hesitation or lie in his warm, brown eyes.  

“As do I,” you smile, sliding your hand up to gently cup his cheek.

He hums, tension bleeding out of his body at your response. He melts into your touch much in the same way his dog counterpart had many moons ago. “I love you, Y/N,” he breathes.

“I love you,” you confess, saying it out loud for the first time in your life. Taehyung’s eyes twinkle in the most beautiful way and it makes you feel like you’re floating on air.

“Let’s make a deal then,” you begin, leaning forward to press your forehead against his. “I’ll call a truce. Let you be known as the fairest of them all, as long as you promise to never try to murder me again.” You’re teasing him, playfully giggling.

You no longer hold any grudges and you’ve done nothing but let Taehyung know this ever since you’ve agreed to stay and live with him. Now, though, you know he finally hears and believes you.

Taehyung can’t help the smile that takes over. It’s boxy and youthful, lighting up his face in a boyish way and you love this expression on him more than anything. “Sure. And…” he wraps an arm tightly around your waist, pulling you flush against him. “If you still love me in one year, we’ll get married.”

You scoff, but there isn’t any heat to your words. “What makes you think I’ll agree to that?”

“Because I love you and you love me, if I remember correctly,” he teases cheekily. You chuckle, melting into his embrace.

“Okay,” you whisper, agreeing to so much more.

“Okay?” he asks, just to make sure.

“Okay — yes. I’ll marry you, if you still love me in one year,” you giggle, agreeing.

Taehyung laughs and it is the single, most beautiful sound you’ve heard in all your life. You want to hear more of it and you want to be the reason for it even more.

“Now… before you let me officially court you, we need to finish these dreadful documents. And find out how to undo the curse on Jin. After all, we won’t hear the end of it if he’s not physically at the wedding!”

You nod, beaming, but you can’t help the way your heart flutters with how close Taehyung is beside you. “If you turn into a dog again, fair warning, I’m keeping you that way. Far cuter,” you tease.

Taehyung chuckles, “but then I can’t do this.”

Blinking, you draw back slightly. “Do what?”

He gives you a moment to reconsider, but you tilt your face and Taehyung leans in and presses a chaste kiss to your lips.

“Do it again,” you whisper breathlessly, grip tightening on him.

Smiling, your lover leans down again. “As you wish, My Lady.”

You meet him halfway, your lips molding perfectly against his.

And so, as they say, in the Land of Fairytales…

Y/N and Taehyung lived Happily Ever After.

_______________________________________________

***Epilogue***

“Now that we’re married, we need to have an heir,” your husband logically reasons.

You laugh, turning to face him. You two have been recently wed and are now on your honeymoon.

All was well within the Land of Fairytales.

Jin was now a physical warlock again, no longer trapped inside the mirror. Said mirror was still in the throne room, though it now was kept as decoration and nostalgic memory more than anything else. He had decided to stay with you and Taehyung after he was set free, working alongside your husband as his close confidante and as Jin puts it, your personal ‘civilian consultant’. This meant that Jin would come and go as he pleases from the castle walls, blending in with everyone to get the latest details in case anything were to go awry for Taehyung or Jimin. How he got out of the mirror though… that is a tale for another time.

Now, onto the others: Jimin is happily running both Kingdoms while you and Taehyung are away. There’s a rumour floating around that he has eyes set on someone who’s just as stunning and kind-hearted as he. Jungkook and Hoseok remain the ever loyal, royal bodyguards. Though Hoseok smiles a lot more now that he’s got a brother in arms that he can trust to watch his back. Yoongi and Namjoon continue their royal advisor duties. In their spare time, along with Jin, the trio are browsing through ancient texts, learning more about the world of Magic and their endless properties.

Thus it leaves you and your husband. Married after a year of kisses, tears (good and bad), stargazing, browsing through magic texts, adventuring together to neighbouring kingdoms and worlds, and so much more. Together you’ve done it all and together you’ll continue to do it.

“Right now?” you tease, rubbing scented body oil onto your skin.

Taehyung watches you from his spot on your shared bed. He’s leaning down on his side and facing you, his eyes transfixed on you like a predator.

“All is well in the Kingdoms… we should have an heir,” Taehyung shrugs, trying to appear nonchalant.

“I dare say, you are just a horny dog,” you laugh, standing and knowing Taehyung is watching the way your silk robes fall around you, accentuating your curves for his eyes to feast upon.

“Is that new,” he wonders, sitting up to move towards the edge of the bed and reaching for you.

You hum, letting him pull you close so that his face rests happily against your chest.

“I bought it during our visit to the Fae Queen.”

Your husband makes a face and you laugh softly at that. “I didn’t like her.”

“Oh? She certainly took a liking to you. Heard all about how beautiful you are,” you continue to tease.

Taehyung huffs, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you flush against him. “Don’t care,” he mumbles, listening to your heartbeat in your chest. “You are far more beautiful.”

“I love you,” you murmur, running your fingers through his hair gently.

“And I,” he begins, drawing back and pulling you down onto the bed. You gasp, falling forward. Catching yourself, you caging him between you, your arms and legs on either side of him. “I absolutely love you,” he purrs, eyes flashing.

You lean down and he meets you halfway. You both kiss, softly at first, but soon it becomes more passionate and heated with every second that passed.

His fingers are tugging at the silken knot of your robe, undoing it quickly and you draw back just enough, lips never leaving his. You slide the robe off of you, letting it pool around your waist. Taehyung tugs it off, the cloth discarded somewhere in the room.

His tongue licks at your lips for entrance and you more than eagerly grant him access. He sighs into your mouth, one hand cradling your back while the other is gripping at your exposed thigh.

“So beautiful,” he murmurs, voice thick with lust.

“As are you, my Love,” you purr, pleasure seeping through you. You grind down ever so gently and he hisses, grip tightening on you. He’s hard now and you feel wetness pool into your centre at the stimulation.

The next moment, you’re pinned onto the bed, his lithe form above yours. “Fuck,” he grunts, eyes zeroing in on the lacy underwear you had chosen to wear to bed. “For me?” he wonders in awe.

You nod, biting on your bottom lip to hold back the whimper as his index finger drags down your cloth covered slit.

Smirking, he leans down and presses a quick kiss to your lips. “Use your words, sweetheart. You know how I enjoy our chats.”

Seeing you roll your eyes, he laughs.

Reaching a hand down, he cups your breast as you had forgone a bra tonight, rolling the nipple beneath his thumb and groaning when you gasp. Bringing his face closer, his lips wrap around your nipple, sucking it into his mouth greedily. His tongue is hot and wet, fingers coming up to pinch the other one.

You gasp, head thrown back, fingers threading through his hair in delight. Taehyung has a very talented mouth.

He moves away, bringing his lips to your exposed throat, sucking and pressing wet, open kisses against your skin. “Tell me what you want,” he whispers hungrily.

Not one to let your husband have the reigns just yet, you lean back onto your elbows, spreading your legs a bit more. You watch the way Taehyung’s eyes darken and practically salivate when he notices how soaked your panties are.

“I want your tongue in my pussy,” you taunt. “Fucking me with it until I cum.”

“Yes,” he growls.

His hand immediately flies forward, one to keep your thigh apart and the other slipping underneath the red lace. You hiss when you feel his nail scrape slightly, just enough to tease you. Watching your reaction, he smirks before he sinks one finger into you. You gasp loudly, body arching in delight at the way he stretches you. Hell — he’s good at this too.

The sight is delicious. Taehyung’s whole hand inside your panties, stretching the fabric and bulging it while he fingers your wet, clenching hole.

He finger fucks you until your grinding down, a gasp leaving your lips, eyes squeezed shut. You look so beautiful, your own fingers gripping the bedsheets to hold onto something as Taehyung makes you fall apart.

“Tae - I asked for you mouth,” you whimper, eyes half-lidded as you gaze back at him, pleasure coursing through you.

“Is that so,” he teases, a lazy smirk on his handsome face.

God, how you hate and love that smirk all at the same time.

“Taehyung,” you beg.

It’s on deaf ears because he presses two fingers next, the burn making your head spin with want. He knows just how you like that stretch, the burn that soon turns to immense pleasure.

Without warning, he removes his fingers and spreads your thighs with ease. You gasp as he dives in like a starved man. The lace underwear is lifted to the side as his mouth is on you within a moment, sucking your folds. The lewd sounds that echo in the room are embarrassing and you bring an arm up to cover your face. Your husband is enjoying himself a little too much, groaning at your taste. He watches you, watches the way you writhe in pleasure.

“Look at me,” he warns authoritatively, eyes flashing, one hand slapping your thigh. You quickly pull your arm away, eyes meeting his. They’re like molten lava, burning you to the very core.

You watch him, watch the way he devours you like you are his last meal. You can’t help yourself, the gasps and whimpers of pleasure leaving you as you ever so gently grind down on his face, rubbing your pussy deliciously against his nose and mouth. Your juices are soaking his chin and yet, you want so much more. Sensing it’s not enough, he brings his fingers back to your core, teasing your clit before sinking them inside you along with his talented tongue. The sounds you make are making him harder than he’d like to admit, gingerly rutting himself into the bed for some relief.

“T-Tae,” you gasp, fingers finding his hair and tugging. “Ah — I’m c-cum—,” you gasp, eyes squeezed shut. The words aren’t even fully out of your mouth before you’re pushed off the edge, coming hard. Taehyung’s efforts doubling as he keeps you against his tongue, working you through your intense orgasm.

Your husband keeps his rhythm up, until your fingers begin to gently nudge him off of you. Finally pulling away, he smirks at you, bringing his soiled fingers to his lips and popping them into his mouth. You feel your stomach stir in delight at the way his eyes roll to the back of his head, sucking your juices off, the lewd scene making you groan in pleasure at the sight.

“You pervert,” you grumble, no bite to your words as you wrap a hand on the back of his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. The kiss is anything but innocent, tongues battling for dominance as you taste yourself on him.

“Want you,” you pout, pulling away. There’s a string of saliva connecting the two of you and you bite back a giggle at the way his eyes darken. Not waiting another moment, you tug his pants down, eyes feasting on the delicious sight before you.

Taehyung is hard.

His cock is big and when you reach out to wrap your hand around him, he’s hard and heavy in your grip. You moan at the sight of precum on his tip. Bending, you bring your mouth to him. You lick at the slit, earning a hiss from your lover, his eyes half-lidded as he watches you press kittenish licks here and there, before sticking your tongue out and sliding from tip to top. You envelope your mouth around one of his balls, sucking obscenely and using your hand to jerk off his hard cock simultaneously.  His taste is something you can’t live without, you realize not for the first time.

You release him, popping off lewdly as you continue to suck on his cock, eyes fluttering close at the salty taste. You want to take him fully into your mouth — have him hold you down as you deepthroat and choke on his cock — have him facefuck you until you’re crying, but his fingers find their way into your hair, curling into a fist and tugging you up and off of him.

“Next time,” he growls, voice hard. “Right now, I need to be inside you.”

You gaze up at him, unable to believe this is the same man that once hated you and in turn, accidentally turned into your adorable pomeranian stray. Now he’s your most beloved, your cherished half to the very end.

“I love you,” you murmur, unable to stop the words from leaving you.

His gaze softens and he brings you close, pressing a warm, soft kiss to your lips. “I love you more,” he hums, lips leaving yours to trail down your throat. “Lay back,” he groans, leaning back on his heels as he languidly strokes his hardened length. You’re entranced by the sight, but his words have you scrambling to obey.

Not wasting another moment, you lay back against the pillows, easily and lewdly spreading your legs for your husband after slipping your panties off and dropping them to the side. His gaze is sinful as he watches you, dark fringe hanging over his eyes.

You can see the way he’s straining to hold himself back. A faint smirk ghosts your lips, purposely tilting your head back, your free hand trailing your index finger over your inner thigh, inching closer to your swollen core. You are completely naked before him and Taehyung feels his breath hitch.

“You brat,” he chuckles breathlessly.

He moves towards you and you grab at his arms, pulling him against you. Using your hand, you take his cock into your grasp, moving it closer towards your centre. You both watch as you push his head into your entrance. Moans leave both of you as he sinks into you completely, filling you so fucking perfectly.

“Teach me a lesson,” you purr, licking a strip along his exposed neck, trailing your lips upwards until you’re enveloping his ear in a teasing suck.

Taehyung hisses and before you know it, he’s pulled out of you with you suddenly flipped onto your front — hands and knees.

A thrill shoots up your spine at the dominating aura rolling off your lover. Despite his rough manhandling, you smile to yourself when you feel his breath ghost behind your ear, one hand smoothing down your spine lovingly. “Is this alright, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” you breathe, arching your back into his touch.

Taehyung moans and you feel him enter you in this position, hitting a whole new level of ecstasy. Your eyes flutter shut as you grip at the bedsheets, arching and pressing yourself until he’s fully seated inside you.

He chuckles at the way you give in to him, pulling back and making you writhe in pleasure at the way his thick cock hits your deepest parts. Each push and pull against your walls making you gasp in pleasure.

Your husband draws back just enough to spread your ass cheeks, watching the way his length sinks back into you and he groans — the perv, you think, unable to keep yourself from clenching at the thought. The fact that he’s getting off to this as much as you are — by the gods, you love this man.

Taehyung grabs a fistful of your hair, tugging you up so that your back is arched and pressed firmly against his chest. He smirks against your ear, pounding into you with a harsher rhythm now. “Fuck, look at you,” he teases, but his voice is breathless and he’s having trouble trying to keep himself together with how good you feel.

He’s panting into your ear like an animal in heat, one hand now wrapped securely around your throat, the other on your hip in a bruising grip. You laugh breathlessly, head thrown back and eyes closed — you just know the marks will be beautiful tomorrow morning.

“Tae—,” you whimper, moving in tandem with him. You feel just how much he throbs inside you, his cock wants release — you know his end is near, too. You chase your own high, your hips undulating and moans leaving your throat — fuck, you feel so good right now.

Noticing the lacy red underwear that you had discarded aside earlier, you reach for them and beam in triumph when your fingers enclose around the soft material. Balling it in your hand, you tilt your head back to see him biting on his bottom lip, thrusts becoming sloppier as he gets closer to his end.

Smirking, you shove the lacy material into his mouth, keeping your hand enclosed so that he can’t spit your panties out.

Taehyung’s eyes widen at the sudden onslaught, dark orbs watching you with unrestrained lust. He hisses something, it’s garbled but you can make out an expletive and your name.

His hand leaves your hip, finding your clit and begins rubbing furiously with two, slender digits. You gasp at the sudden onslaught of sensations, one hand still wrapped tightly around your throat, keeping your face tipped upwards.

You open your eyes, meeting his dark orbs. So fucking beautiful.

“I-inside,” you gasp, “cum inside, T-Tae—!“

It’s all you manage to get out, his fingers abusing your swollen clit, the rub so deliciously hot — you scream his name, body arching tightly as the cord unexpectedly snaps. Your hands fly up, one gripping at his sweaty, firm shoulder, the other on his round ass; anchoring you as you reach another euphoric orgasm.

Taehyung groans, spit soaking and dripping from his mouth onto your ruined panties. Still, he keeps it as a makeshift gag, dark eyes watching you tauntingly. He’s surrounded by your scent right now, inhaling you deeply. He begins to fuck you like a raged animal and you take it because it feels so good.

Even though your body is sore and used, you let him continue his assault. It won’t feel satisfying until he cums deep inside you. Impregnating you with his seed — claiming you for his own.

A deep, warning groan leaves his throat.

You tilt your face to watch as Taehyung uses your body like the good cumslut you are to reach his end. His eyes are dark, brows furrowed. His gaze falls upon you and you muster a tired smirk.

“Cum,” you weakly order, a whimper leaving you at the way he’s fucking your tired, oversensitive pussy.

That moment is all he needs —

you feel his body tighten and then he drops down onto you, sloppily thrusting into your sweet cunt as he holds you down.

“F-fuck—,” he hisses through your underwear, pulling you tight against him as he buries his face in your neck — an animalistic growl echoing from his throat — bucking up into you desperately now.

It’s so filthy and dirty and you love it.

You gasp in pleasure, feeling the now drenched panties fall from his mouth and onto your back.

His mouth presses open, wet kisses wherever he can reach — your neck, shoulder blade, ear, your cheek.

Taehyung cums and he fills your sweet cunt with his thick, hot seed. You reach your hand back, grabbing at his side to anchor yourself as he uses your body a few more thrusts, riding out his orgasm, both your juices making a squelching sound each time he fucks into your swollen pussy again.

Despite the angle of your arm, you manage to pull him closer, gasping silently. He pumps you full of his hot cum, so much that you’re certain without his cock the ropes of jizz would leak out of you. Your breathing is harsh, body twitching ever so slightly at the feeling of being filled with Taehyung’s thick load.

Said man isn’t much better off either, he’s panting in delight, peppering your exposed skin with kisses as he rides his orgasm out, rope after rope of thick white filling you just like what he wants. Even when he stills, you can’t help the way your pussy clenches around him, an added spurt leaving his softening cock to fill you up even more.

“Mmm,” you giggle breathlessly, one hand reaching up to entangle your fingers into his soft hair. “Think I’m pregnant yet?”

Taehyung laughs, the happy sound making your heart stir. “We can always do it again,” he winks, slowly and carefully pulling himself from you. Your body is turned until your on your back, meeting warm, brown eyes. “You alright, sweetheart?” he wonders, wet fringe sticking to his forehead.

“Absolutely,” you smile softly, fingers quickly tugging him down for a deep kiss.

Taehyung kisses back, making sure he doesn’t crush you with his weight. You wince when he pulls away and worrisome eyes fall on you. “Y/N…”

Your gaze falls to your thighs and you flush at seeing just how wet they are, Taehyung’s cum seeping out of your swollen centre and soaking the bedsheets mixed with your own arousal. “My goodness, you came a lot, Your Majesty,” you coyly tease.

Said King groans, dropping his face into your neck, one arm sliding around your waist and pulling you against his chest. “Don’t tease me, my Love, I think I can go again.”

Your eyes widen a fraction and you feel heat stir inside you at the thought of being fucked like that again. “In a moment, I’m going to ride you,” you promise, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “I will only stop after you’ve filled me with another load of your seed.”

He laughs, the voice deep and soothing to your soul. “I truly, truly love you, Y/N.”

Tilting your face up, you meet his warm, loving gaze. There’s a bright smile on his handsome features, dark fringe hanging over his almond-shaped eyes and it makes your heart stir. Not just his beauty, but his soul and the feelings that fill you from the bottom of your heart because it’s him.

“And I,” you lean in closer; Taehyung meeting you halfway. “I truly love you, Taehyung.”

His arms feel like home and his lips… they’re just the icing on the cake of your happily ever after.

The End.

[infjsnightmare]

This will be chapter one of the Fyodor×female!SO amnesia fic that I am working on. I haven't posted a fanfic in who knows how long so the quality is probably on the poor side. Any feedback is appreciated! I'm hoping to continue this, but it will probably be on the back burner of my schedule. I also am not used to tumblrs platform, so any advice for formatting would be greatly encouraged. I'm not adding character tags to this since I don't want it to clog up the fandom, but if you end up liking it and would like me to tag you in future updates, don't hesitate to ask. Anyways, I think that's about all in the way of introductions!

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She glanced over at the dark-haired man as he worked, yet again, into the early hours of the morning. The pale blue of his various monitors was the only thing to illuminate his snow-white skin. His tired eyes barely blinking as they scanned the database in front of him while his long slender fingers danced along the keyboard. She sighed knowing that arguing his work schedule would prove futile. In all the years she'd known the man, he would never put himself before his cause, even for a few hours of needed rest. Still, she wouldn't sit well with herself without at least a half-hearted attempt.

"Fedya", the shorter woman lightly placed a scarred hand on the back of his swiveling desk chair, "you'll never create a promised land without proper sleep." Her tone was sharp and came out as an order as opposed to a suggestion. The woman winced upon realizing her terse composition, a remnant of her time as a child soldier. "Hmm?" The man hummed his response, inflection rising as a question. He was being gracious with her, giving her a chance to correct herself. There was no doubt he had heard what she said, but this was a mercy he spared for only her. "I mean to say, that your promised land will wait for you, but I worry that your health may not," She turned his chair to face her, pleading eyes betraying her stoic expression. "Please come to bed." Her eyes were always a point of weakness for the Russian. Her straight posture, tight jaw and tense shoulders could never take away from the pure wealth of emotion her eyes gave away. "This is important work," Fyodor began as he already saw those precious eyes relax in resignation. So, she was fully prepared for him to reject her offer. Noticing the puff of air she let slip, he decided that perhaps he had been too persistent in his goals the past few days. He tilted his head thoughtfully, stray black hairs like a silk spider's web swaying over his crimson orbs. "But, since Decay of Angels will be moving into its next phase soon, it couldn't hurt to prepare myself and rest." He punctuated his decision with a soft smile, grabbing her hand from the chair to lead her to bed. Eyes widened the faintest amount, the only hint of shock she portrayed. "Thank you, sir." She nodded while examining his pale elegant hand in her much rougher calloused digits.

Everything about him spoke of grace. An angel among men, with the unfortunate disposition of a demon. But that's what she admired in him. When they met all those years ago, her rifle placed directly at his temple. Even then, she couldn't fathom the young man in front of her leading such a dangerous life. But, when their eyes met, he had just chuckled lightly, grabbing the barrel. "Would you like to see this world burn?" All it took was one question from his lips and she knew she would follow him to the depths of hell. Being a soldier, recruited for her ability that never let her miss a mark, forced to kill from such a young age, the world to her was a pile of rubble, but this man, this god, would show her paradise. When she stared back into his eyes, she knew it was the truth. That was the day she left the Russian Special Ops. That was the day she massacred the rest of her division and escaped. That was the day she vowed her body and mind to Fyodor. At the time, she believed she no longer had a heart and so it was not something she could offer, but now, looking up at his tired profile, feeling that tightness in her chest, realized that he already possessed it.

She followed him wordlessly through the corridors until they came to their shared bedroom. Her hands moved to his shoulders, lightly massaging his exhausted body, while removing his jacket. "What is it that's on your mind, Milaya?" The deep voice disrupting her thoughts. "I was just thinking of all we've been through. I truly would do anything for you, Fedya." She stared straight into his eyes, and any lesser man would've cowered under her gaze. Instead, he let out an airy chuckle "You say such sweet things as though you are about to kill a man." An amused smile played at his lips while tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. "If all goes according to plan, there shouldn't be much for you to do in any case." Fyodor dismissed the though with a wave of his hand as he dropped to the bed, all his muscles giving in to the plush bed and warm blankets. "If all goes according to plan, you'll be tucked away in a cell in Europe." She smirked playfully pushing him until his head hit the pillow. Her smile faltered briefly at the thought of how far away he would be. Sure, he'd been gone on missions before, but she always knew when to expect him back. This time was different. This time relied on the other members of the organization to play their part.

"And if I'm captured? I've heard that there are abilities that could extract information about you from me. Similar to Sigma." Her brows furrowed as she continued "I've been thinking a lot and I believe that if I am to be found, I will need to forget you.... to protect you." She finished and looked up at him, seeing the faintest trace of worry etched in his face. "Don't be ridiculous. It will never come to that." His voice was even, though his agitation was apparent to her trained eye. "Now isn't the time to discuss such matters." She nodded in agreement. "You're right, you need to rest. We'll talk about this in the morning." She wrapped herself around him, laying her head on the space between his shoulder and chest. He rolled his eyes at the prospect of continuing this discussion at any point in time but planted a chaste kiss to her temple regardless, as they both drifted off to sleep.

The warm smell of steeping Lady Grey roused the young woman from her slumber as she blearily rubbed at her eyes. Sleeping next to Fyodor was the only way for her body to relax as she rested. She knew that she was safe. Her training had taught her to always be on alert and for a long time she could have awaken at the drop of a pin. But, whenever she slept with him next to her, she would wake to find him already dressed for the day, tea on the bedside table and she would not have the faintest inkling of how long she must have slept through his routine. "Good morning." Fyodor's voice sounded like honey to her as he traced a gloved finger underneath her jaw. She lazily scanned the room before her eyes settled on his form sitting next to her bedside. "Good morning, Fedya. How long have you been sitting there?" Pressing her cheek lightly against his hand before straightening her posture, slowly reverting to her tense state of being. The raven haired man smiled watching the remnants of his dazed princess slip away into the strict stance of his loyal soldier. "Not long." He gave a quick reply, his façade nearly perfectly covering the truth. He'd been watching her for about 32 minutes at this point, memorizing her rhythmic breathing and the delicate parting of her lips. He wracked his brain for every possible scenario of how last night's conversation would play out this morning and every route led him to the same conclusion: he wasn't going to change her mind. She was his soldier after all and she was loyal to a fault. If she believed her own mind could put him in danger, then she would destroy it. If she believed her love for him would put him in danger, then she would let go of her own heart.

"Milaya, I-" "You've already deciphered how this conversation ends, haven't you?" She cut him off before he could even start. The way his eyebrows slightly contorted on his soft features relayed his worry. He must have been recalling last night and she knew if she gave him too much room to talk, there was a chance his silver tongue could change her mind. "I have." Lowered voice, clipped. He was unhappy with her decision, but he wasn't going to waste time arguing around a pre-determined outcome. Maybe he could change her mind, but not without manipulating some aspect of their conversation, not without toying with her emotions and using her like a pawn. He frowned bitterly at the thought. She was a queen in his chest set and he could never allow her to be set like a pawn. A queen was always there to defend the king, roaming the board freely, but always returning back by his side. Against the odds, he would have to trust that she would do just that. That if she were to throw away their past, throw away her memories, that she would still find him again and return to his side.

A squeezing pressure against his hand brought him back out of his own head as she gripped his hand with hers. “I promise you, I will return to you. We will stand together in the new world. Just promise me, no matter how long it may take, that you will wait for me?” The sincerity held in her eyes shown brightly before him. Not just sincerity, but something else. Love. The most basic and most complicated on the spectrum of human emotions. It had the ability to make weak men strong. To make strong men crumble. To make a feeble man think. And to make even the most genius of men fall into stupidity. And here he was, staring into the eyes of the only being he gave merit to, stupidly agreeing to let her follow through with her plan. He stared into her eyes with such intensity she was sure that her soul was bared naked before him as he made his promise. “ya obeshchayu tebe, moya lyubov.” The air in the room hung heavy, and it almost seemed as if time had stopped as the pair gazed, entranced by one another. She felt her jaw clench and tighten with an emotion she wasn’t sure how to name, lost somewhere between heartache and contentment. “Thank you, Fedya.” Standing abruptly, she wrapped her strong arms around his slender frame, face pressed firmly into his chest. A rare display of raw emotion from the woman, fighting her natural composure. It was only in these moments, just the two of them, that she could be this weak. It was only times when they were alone, that he could allow himself to be this warm. And, as much as the lovers could wish that time had actually stopped, it would continue on regardless. “Of course, that is only in the event that I even be captured.” She straightened, fixing herself with a quiet confidence. “I never miss a target. I would never be taken easily.” Her expression remained void of any defining emotion, but her eyes held the credence and self-assurance that a soldier of her caliber is sure to possess. “Good.” The simply reply held the acknowledge of her skill and all the weight of an order. The implication that she would raise hell and only enact this contingency plan as a last resort was not lost on her. Cool lips brushed delicately over hers in a chaste kiss, faint and fleeting as though it were a ghost. Her lips were warm like fire against his as she chased the kiss adding the slightest pressure. The pair exchanged one last fervent glance before regaining their aloof composure and exiting to continue their work.

[samstree]

You are too well tangled in my soul (4/5)

In which Geralt tries to apologize, Jaskier has some unexpected encounters and Roach is the best.

(love confession, kaer morhen, 6.1k, no warnings)

read on AO3.

War breaks out.

Nilfgaard mercilessly scorches the continent, and Jaskier survives. The next time he sees Geralt, there’s a lost princess in tow.

The girl has pale blonde hair, just as Jaskier remembers from when he performed at her birthdays. Her green eyes are big and wary, staring at the bard from behind Geralt’s armored bulk.

Jaskier wouldn’t blame her, from what he learned from his encounters with Nilfgaard the girl must have been through hell. And from what he heard about Cintra, well, she has more demons to run from other than the evil army. She looks exhausted too, hair dirty and eyes alert, studying Jaskier intensely.

“You were at my birthday. You sang the songs.” The princess’s crisp voice breaks the silence.

“Yes, Princess Cirilla. I was at three of your birthdays, though you were too young to remember the first two.” he bows. “Jaskier the bard, at your service.”

She softens, nodding at Jaskier’s gesture. Her lips tug upward.

“Just Ciri.”

“Ciri, then.” Jaskier smiles at her.

“I loved your singing. It was beautiful.” she bites her lips, pausing, before putting her arm around the witcher’s. “Geralt only said we were looking for a friend. I didn’t know it was you.”

The mention of the name snaps Jaskier’s attention back to the witcher, who remains motionless and silent. This entire time, Geralt has been staring at Jaskier’s face, like he could blink and the bard would disappear. Jaskier stares back, and the bruise in his chest throbs anew.

“A friend, uh?” he feigns nonchalance and fails, suddenly his throat feeling dry. “Now you use the word, after all these years. Thought you’d keep insisting on not being my friend until the end of time. Thought I gave you life’s blessing –”

“Jaskier,” Geralt exhales. The word is barely a whisper, but it’s enough to stop the bard from landing a blow. The witcher doesn’t seem to have more words, despite continuing to look at Jaskier with remorseful sorrow.

Good. The pettiest part of Jaskier thrills at his regret, after all he’s the one who spewed all the venom on top of that mountain.

But one look at Geralt, Jaskier realized that he is just as tired and disheveled as the girl, if not more so. Being on the run from Nilfgaard is no fun, he learned that from personal experience.

Knowing Geralt, he is going to neglect his needs in favor of Ciri’s, gritting his teeth through everything. Jaskier finds himself searching all over him for injuries, familiar worry bubbling of its own volition.

Jaskier cannot even stay mad at him for long. Damn him.

“Why are you looking for me then?” he asks.

“I –” Geralt pauses. “Nilfgaard is looking for us. Hunting us. They want something, and they are willing to raise armies to chase us across the Continent.”

He tightens his hold on Ciri. The young princess looks away with a haunted expression.

“And they are also trying to hunt down whoever might know your location. They’ll torture them for the information.” Jaskier adds. His two near escapes are too vivid in his mind. The first time he only got away by the skin of his teeth. It turns out he’s not so bad with a dagger when faced with two Nilfgaardian footsoldiers.

As for the second time, he may have had help from an old friend. Not that Yennefer would be thrilled if he ever called her that. The story of his life, he thinks, it seems to be.

Realization dawns in Geralt’s eyes. “You already know they are looking for you. Are you – did they get to you, Jaskier?”

“Get to me? No,” Jaskier chuckles tightly. “I wouldn’t be standing here, would I? Your secrets are safe, Geralt. Not that I knew your whereabouts for the past year. They didn’t get anything from me, if that’s your worry.”

“No. Fuck –” Geralt curses under his breath, frustrated. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?”

Jaskier challenges him, raising an eyebrow. Geralt struggles for words and starts to look like his usual brooding self again. It is Ciri who speaks up.

“Come to Kaer Morhen with us. It’s the safest place on the Continent,” the girl says.

Jaskier breathes, stunned. Of course, it makes sense for them to go. It is a home for Geralt. He remembers the first time Geralt told him about the witcher keep, in that greenhouse, a lifetime ago. To him, it is as much of a myth now as it was back then.

“You are sweet, Ciri. But I don’t think Geralt would want that.”

There’s a bitter tang in those words. Ciri scrunches up her brows, confused. “But he’s the one who wanted –”

“What Ciri meant,” Geralt interrupts, “was that Nilfgaard is still out there looking for us. When they can’t, they’ll come for you again.” Desperation bleeds into his tone. Or is it annoyance? “Come with us, Jask. You’ll be safe in Kaer Morhen.”

“I can take care of myself.” Jaskier’s resolution is swaying despite his pride.

“Jaskier…”

“Geralt.” He stays emotionless, waiting for the Witcher’s reasoning, but it doesn’t come.

It is the lost Cintran princess who decides for Jaskier.

“Can you just come with us?” her voice is uncertain, and it tugs at Jaskier’s heart. “Please?”

Jaskier looks into her green eyes and only sees the loss she endured. The fall of Cintra reached Jaskier like a punch in the gut. He thought Geralt’s Child Surprise – the bright-eyed little girl who danced to his songs – was lost with it, so when those soldiers started questioning him about her escape, Jaskier only felt relief. Now, the lone wolf stands protectively next to the lost lion cub.

Jaskier is glad Geralt went to find her, truly.

He finds himself nodding, and Ciri brightens up ever so slightly.

  “So, you are the boy?”

The dark-haired witcher says upon meeting Jaskier for the first time at the gate of Kaer Morhen when Geralt and Ciri have gone to stable the horse. He’s the same height and build as Geralt, only his shoulders are just a bit wider. Unlike Geralt, his hair is a muddy brown, and three nasty scars run down the right side of his cheek, making him look almost grotesque.

“Pardon?”

“The boy Geralt kept seeing.” His eyes fix on Jaskier with amusement, the golden color eerily identical to Geralt’s.

“Oh, I didn’t know anyone else –” Jaskier is rather surprised that another witcher knows about Geralt’s condition. “Yes, that’s me. But I’m hardly a boy anymore.” He extends a hand. “Jaskier.”

“Eskel.” The Witcher takes it with a friendly smile. Huh, not all of them are broody and rude.

“So you know about our…” Jaskier trails off for lack of a descriptor. Their bond? Their relationship? They certainly are not in one.

“Not much. If you’ve known my brother for this long, you’d know how little he talks.” Eskel offers an understanding pat on Jaskier’s back. “He just came back here one year and couldn’t shut up about an annoying bard. Then he came back another year. Disappeared in the middle of the day, and scared the shit out of us. We’d thought he was cursed out of existence by some angry mage. When he came back, out of thin air too, he looked like he’d seen a ghost.”

“Not a ghost.”

“Not a ghost, only the same bard. As a boy.”

It makes sense, according to however little they know about the mechanism of it. Wintering at the witcher keep is the longest Geralt is away from the bard, so destiny has to drag him to Lettenhove. It would be hard to sail away from your anchor.

“Guess I’m too much of a nuisance. He can’t escape me even here, in his own home.”

“He never –” Eskel seems surprised at Jaskier’s remark. “I might need to have words with my brother, bard. And he was only upset because he worried for your safety.”

He smiles tightly. “It’s kind of you to say, Eskel. Though you don’t need to protect my feelings. I understand now. I would take myself off of his hands if I could.”

Too bad he can’t. Even if the invasion blows over, destiny would still work against Geralt’s attempt at free will at every opportunity.

He ignores Eskel’s inquisitive eyes as they stroll into the stone castle when Geralt and Ciri rejoin them.

  Geralt is trying to apologize.

He knows by the way Geralt follows him outside, and onto the trail behind the keep, somehow with guilt written all over his posture. It’s a nice place for a walk and for Jaskier to clear his head and compose under the pine trees.

Geralt has tried several times in the past few days. Every time they are left alone, the witcher assumes an expectant look on his face and begins to find words. Every time Jaskier interrupts him before it starts, making up whatever poor excuses he can find. Every time Geralt swallows and lets him go. He puts on a stoic face but Jaskier always sees the disappointed droop in those amber eyes that anyone else would have missed.

Jaskier can’t avoid it anymore, between the fresh smell of pine – his favorite scent in the world – and the sky, there’s nowhere to hide, so he stops to face it.

“Just say whatever you want to say,” he lets out a sigh.

“I’m sorry,” Geralt blurts out without a beat. “I never should have said what I said. I didn’t mean any of it, Jask. I was upset and I took it out on you. It wasn’t fair.”

Jaskier blinks.

“No, it wasn’t.”

“You’ve followed me for twenty years. You’ve known me for even longer. Fuck, Jaskier. Your whole life, you’ve known me, and yet you chose to stay.”

“I did,” he whispers, “but you tried to push me away, like everything else destiny forced upon you.”

The hurt in those golden eyes is unbearable to watch, so Jaskier averts the burn of his gaze to take a deep breath. The smell of pine fills his lungs, crisp and soothing.

“It was a mistake. I know that now, Jaskier.” The contrite is unmistakable. Geralt’s gravelly voice is as pained as Jaskier feels. From the corner of his eyes, Jaskier notices Geralt reach into his pocket for something. It is a small notebook, leather-bound and abused at the edges.

It’s his notebook.

It’s their notebook.

“I’ve kept records of everything, just like you did.” he holds out the book for Jaskier to take. “I’ve seen the future, you –”

“No!” Jaskier steps away as if the book might burn him. “You can’t use it against me, Geralt. You think I’ve never seen the future? I know where we are going. I know I’ll still choose you, because how can I not?” his voice breaks at the possibility of him leaving Geralt by choice. “But it doesn’t make it alright. I can’t just forgive you and pretend we are fine, just because the future says we should be.”

Geralt lowers his hand and the book with it. “I meant that…I understand you now. Why you would stand by me when no one else does, when it’s so much easier to just leave.”

“And how exactly did you arrive at this grand revelation?”

Geralt softens, his lips quick upward ever so slightly. “I saw you. In a little cottage by the sea, years from now, happy.”

Jaskier’s breath hitches. He’s so used to knowing all different versions of Geralt, so used to having the upper hand in this little dance, that the idea of his own future laid out like this makes him queasy.

“You told me – or will tell me, rather – why you spent your entire life choosing me when I’ve done nothing but push you away.” Geralt’s voice breaks at the obvious regret in it.

Because I love you, Jaskier thinks. I’ve loved you for too long.

He’s become so familiar with the notion it’s as easy as breathing.

“What do you want, then?”

“A chance. To prove myself again,” Geralt pleads. “To prove myself a worthy companion to you. Because you are my friend, my best friend. You have been since you were so young and I was just blind to it. Jaskier, I –”

I love you.

“– I choose you too. If you’ll let me show you. For the rest of my life, I’ll prove it to you every day, because I –”

I love you.

“– I love you.”

The words come out soft and reverent, the whisper so careful as if to avoid the birds overhearing him. Geralt stills after the confession, his eyes fixed on Jaskier in earnest.

For a moment Jaskier believes the declaration an echo of his imagination, conjured up from years of longing and heartbreak. But when he holds his breath and looks into Geralt’s resolved eyes, the truth washes over him like a cool shower on an autumn morning.

Deep in those ember eyes is the same affection he’s seen many times, during those too-short visits from his older Geralt, in the teasing smirks he carried at the corner of his mouth, or in the sweetness hidden behind his kiss, under a cold Cintran sky and addled by too much ale. It’s in the way Geralt takes him apart with deft fingers and gentle touches, over and over again throughout the years.

It’s the same love that propelled Geralt to ask for his trust and his faith when this moment comes.

“You love me.” Jaskier muses.

“I do. I have… for a while now.” Geralt’s breath forms in the crisp mountain air. “I understand if you don’t feel the same way, Jask. But please believe me when I say it. I love you. It’s the truest feeling I’ve ever felt in my life. Without any djinn magic, or destiny deciding what’s best. Please, at least have this much faith in me.”

After all this time Geralt still thinks it’s possible for Jaskier to not love him back.

I’m going to make mistakes, the older Geralt once said, don’t lose faith in me.

He made a promise after all.

“Okay,” Jaskeir exhales.

“Okay?”

When he looks into the amber glow again Geralt looks expectant.

“Okay,” Jaskier repeats, “You have it. A chance for us to try again, if you want it to go back to… before.”

Geralt exhales like a weight has been lifted from his shoulders. “It won’t be like before. I’ll do better, I give you my word.”

The sincerity is palpable in Geralt’s expression. The words come out so solemn and he’s clenched his jaw tightly. It looks like he just might break something if Jaskier doesn’t give him an out.

A smiles tugs at the corner of Jaskier’s mouth. And they say he’s the dramatic one.

“Oh, relax, you big oaf, before you hurt yourself. Of course I believe in you. It might be the most words I’ve ever heard from you. Didn’t think it was possible.”

He pats Geralt on the arm, before resting his hand there and squeezes. If Geralt leans into the touch, he doesn’t mention it.

“You,” Jaskeir continues, “You are forgiven, Geralt. I’ve always known I’d forgive you. You are not the only one who’s seen the future. Even if fate didn’t tell me to, I would still know you to be the best man I’ve ever laid eyes on, and I would choose to stay by your side every time.”

The shuddering breath that chokes out Geralt’s throat is almost like a sob. Rumors say witchers can’t cry, but Jaskier learned it not to be true long ago, and he can see how much Geralt is affected right now.

He reaches out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind Geralt’s ear before resting his hand on the spill of silver on his shoulder, and revels in the familiar feeling of silky hair against his palm.

“As for the other thing.” Jaskier thinks back on Geralt’s heartfelt confession, not sure if he has truly wrapped his head around it. “I think… I’ll need some time before we can do something about it.”

Geralt nods, his warm hand coming up to capture Jaskier’s wrist in a loose grip, the pad of his thumb stroking slightly again. Jaskier’s chest warms at the motion.

“Take all the time you need, Jask. I’ll be right here.”

  They spend the winter in the keep, in this safe bubble they created.

Ciri’s progress is obvious even to Jaskier’s untrained eyes. Her stance becomes more confident every day, her moves faster. The clanking of blunt swords echoes above the training ground as Jaskier watches from a bench in the corner, plucking his lute absent-mindedly.

The lion cub is starting to look like her grandmother, with her hair tied back and the sword cutting through the air with force.

The rise in confidence is doing her wonders. Her smile is becoming more often as winter settles in. The first time Ciri laughed out loud at the usual tomfoolery Lambert starts at dinner table, all four witchers and Jaskier stopped to stare at her for a brief moment before joining in.

Later that night, Geralt got emotional when it was just him and Jaskier, cleaning up in the kitchen.

“It’s just… it’s the first time I’ve heard her laugh.” Geralt’s throat bobbles when he says, and Jaskier’s heart breaks for them both, so he takes the plates from the Witcher’s hands and pulls him in for a hug, one that’s a little too tight.

In the courtyard, flurries of snow fall steadily as Ciri disarms Geralt with a twist of her wrist, the heavier sword flying off to the side. She squeaks in excitement.

“Take that, old man!”

Geralt goes to collect his blunt weapon, his chuckle rumbling deep in his chest. “You only did it because I let you, Ciri. Your enemies are not gonna let you disarm them for practice.”

Her pride morphs into a slight pout before it’s tucked away by her regal stance. They’ll make a warrior princess out of her after all.

“You just can’t let me have this one, can you?”

“Yeah, old man,” Jaskier chimes in. “Just admit your loss. I’m sure the White Wolf should know when he’s beaten.”

From Geralt’s glare, Jaskier knows he’s enjoying this too much, but he just can’t get the proud grin off of his face. Ciri sends him a smug smile when she puts away her weapon and gears.

From a distance, Lambert and Eskel are sheathing their training swords as well when Jaskier notices the snow falling harder by the minute, sending a shiver through his body despite the heavy coat wrapped around him. Ugh, his fingers are numb now.

“All right?” Geralt is all packed up, cheeks flushed from the exercise. He’s only wearing a simple tunic and yet it looks like the cold does not affect him at all. Ridiculous witcher biology.

Mischief lights up in Jaskier’s mind when he puts down the lute and walks towards Geralt, before putting his freezing palms flush against the Witcher’s neck.

“Jaskier, what – Fuck!”

He expects Geralt’s usual grunts and retaliation at the blatant offense. Roughhousing has never been a stranger to them, especially now that they are at ease in their friendship again.

What he does not expect is the concern that appears in Geralt’s eyes after a moment of shock and the warm hands that gently cover his.

“Oh Jask, you are freezing.” Geralt’s brows furrow in seriousness, calloused fingers starting to rub the back of Jaskier’s hands in a slow rhythm. Now that he notices, the heat radiating off of Geralt’s skin is lovely, tingling the numbness in his rigid hands and sending a different kind of shiver down his spine. “Gods, you might get frostbite like this. Don’t you have gloves?”

“Er – that’s not…” Jaskier stammers, suddenly aware of their closeness and the lack of everyone else on the training ground. Thank fuck they’ve all gone inside before his foolish prank. “I – I lost them…?”

Now Jaskier is the one blushing, but Geralt pays no mind to his embarrassment and continues to rub heat back into his exposed skin.

“I’ll make you new ones then. Can’t let a lutist lose his fingers,” Geralt murmurs.

The urge to kiss this sweet man is overwhelming, Jaskier has to look away from the beautiful golden yellow to calm his fluttering heart. It’d be too soon. He’s still raw from what went down in the past year.

Thankfully Ciri calls for them to get inside before they freeze over. Jaskier pulls away to answer her, immediately feeling empty without the warm touch. Now he’ll settle for walking to the great hall where a hearth is lit with Geralt by his side.

A week later, Jaskier finds a pair of newly knitted gloves on his bed. They are made with Geralt’s favorite wool – a thick, soft material – and fingerless so he can play. When he slips them on, the urge to track Geralt down in the keep and kiss him all over fills him again.

  Roach bites down on the second apple Jaskier offers her and munches gracelessly.

Jaskier pats her mane while she tries to chew off the fringe on his doublet. Now that he’s reunited with her master, Jaskier can spoil the mare as much as he wants. Not that anyone objected before. The mare clearly has a soft spot for the bard, Geralt is just too stubborn to admit it.

He is just saying goodbye to Roach when the familiar swoosh of magic startles him.

Destiny’s pull rarely works when they are together, so much so that Jaskier has almost forgotten about it for the months he’s within Kaer Morhen’s walls. On top of that, what greets him is not the bulk of a witcher.

Standing by the stalls is a scared little boy.

Jaskier is terrible with guessing children’s age, but this boy is definitely no more than six or seven, wearing plain summer clothes and holding a small bucket for dear life. The boy has a head full of dark curly hair and tears streaking down his cheeks. His brown eyes are wide and full of terror.

“Ma? Where are you?” he calls out, voice horse from crying.

Jaskier is stuck where he stands, too shocked to react. Somewhere next to him, Roach snorts nervously at the volume of the child’s cry.

Geralt once told him how he ended up in Vesemir’s care, when both of them had too much to drink on the eve of Belleteyn many years ago. They only meant to celebrate a hunt well done and Jaskier’s successful performance at the festival, but the drinks kept coming on the courtesy of the pub owner. Before Jaskier knew it, the Witcher was too gone and started to get melancholic in his inebriation.

For once in their lives, Jaskier was the one with some sanity left and promptly put Geralt back to their shared bed.

With the sound of people singing and dancing around bonfires in the distance, Geralt curled into himself, looking uncharacteristically small, and told Jaskier the last time he saw his mother.

“I stood there for so long, by the road. But she was gone,” Geralt slurred the words. “I kept waiting for her…”

Those words, combined with too much ale, broke Jaskier into a million pieces.

“It was so long ago. I don’t even remember what she looks like, the color of her eyes. Or my eyes, before…What was the color of my eyes?”

Jaskier had no answer.

That night, he listened as Geralt drifted off, thinking the witcher would forget about the confession come morning. Or was it Geralt who thought Jaskier never remembered? No matter what reason, Geralt never talked about it again and Jaskier respected that.

And here Geralt is, no more than seven, on what is probably the worst day of his life – having just been abandoned by his mother by the side of the road. He looks confused and cried-out, still clinging to the bucket so hard that his tiny knuckles are turning white.

His eyes are brown.

That’s all Jaskier can think.

The boy’s tears keep falling, and whatever heartbreak Jaskier felt on the night of Belleteyn, it’s not a match for now.

“Hey, it’s all right,” Jaskier shushes as gently as possible. He lowers himself in front of the boy, keeping the movement slow just to not upset him further. “It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Where is my ma?” young Geralt sniffles, and Jaskier doesn’t know how to answer that. The layers he’s wearing clearly cannot hold out the cold in the dead of winter. The boy is shivering.

“I’m sorry I don’t know where she is. But, here, put this on.” Jaskier shrugs off his coat and wraps it around the boy’s small frame, half of it pooling on the ground. He tries to coax the bucket out of the boy’s hands but he grips tighter.

“Where is she? Where did you take me?” the boy demands in panic.

“I promise I haven’t taken you anywhere, okay? Ger –” Jaskier catches himself. He’s a complete stranger to the child. He shouldn’t know him. “It’s too cold out here. We can go inside and wait for her there. Is that all right?”

The boy shakes his head. “Ma’s coming back to find me. I need to stay.”

“Okay, okay.” Jaskier tries not to panic, but he feels so helpless. He doesn’t even know where to put his hands so he tightens the coat around the boy’s shoulders. “How about this, I’ll find some help for us. Maybe someone from that castle can help. I don’t even know what would happen if they see you like this but…what other option do we have, eh?”

Before he can even get up, Jaskier finds the boy dropping the bucket and clinging to the sleeve of his doublet, the water spilling everywhere.

“No, don’t leave,” the boy says weakly, “Please.”

The boy’s chubby cheeks are streaked with tears, turning red in the mountain air. Jaskier wipes the wetness away with the pad of his thumb, his other arm still in the boy’s grip.

“All right. I won’t leave then, I promise.” Jaskier does his best to smile reassuringly. The ache in his chest makes it difficult but against all odds, it works. The young boy calms down just a little.

“I’ll stay with you, all right? But for now… do you want to make some new friends?”

Jaskier introduces the child to Roach, and he gets less afraid as soon as he sees the horse and reaches out to pet her. With their ridiculous height difference, it looks almost comical. The mare, ever the sweetheart, lowers her head as if she senses something familiar in the boy. She nuzzles his little hand and his eyes light up.

No matter how young, it seems Geralt will always enjoy Roach’s company above anyone else’s. Jaskier watches in wonder at the exchange before him. The boy’s distress dissipates gradually as the mare licks him and showers him in affection.

“Can I keep her?” the child giggles as Roach chews on his hair.

Jaskier smiles, “Sadly no, but maybe you’ll see her again. Who knows.”

All his life, Jaskier has known Geralt as the powerful witcher, his friend and protector. But right here, he’s just another ordinary child who loves giant animals. Only his future holds something no child should ever have to endure.

Jaskier wishes life wouldn’t have to burden this gentle boy, harden him into the warrior that he is now. This moment could last forever for all he cares, so this young boy wouldn’t need to go back to face the path ahead.

He doesn’t know how long they have here, undisturbed by the four witchers inside the keep, or the magic pulling them apart.

“Can I tell you something?” Jaskier says as the child runs his fingers through Roach’s mane. He turns around to look at the bard curiously with his beautiful brown eyes. “Do you know you’re a very good boy? And when you grow up, you’ll become a very good person.”

“Ma says I should do good.”

“She’s right.”

“And doing good is hard… sometimes.”

Jaskier swallows the lump in his throat. “That too. Life is difficult, unfair even. But you are strong, stronger than you’ll ever believe. Remember this, and you’ll find a way.”

“I’m strong?” the boy looks at Jaskier expectantly. His tiny frame is drowned in Jaskier’s coat.

“The strongest.” the bard nods.

“Like a knight?”

“Better than a knight.”

The smile that lights up the boy’s rosy cheeks is the most wonderful thing Jaskier has ever seen, better than the northern lights on these mountains. But their moment seems to have come to an end.

The swoosh of magic Jaskier knows by heart brushes by his ear, and Roach suddenly brays anxiously in her stall.

“I feel weird.” The panic returns to the boy’s voice.

“It’s okay. It means we have to say goodbye.”

“Are you leaving?”

“Never.”

“But why do we have to say goodbye?” his tiny voice gets tight and scared once more. Jaskier shushes him gently.

“Because we’ll see each other again.”

“And horsie too?”

“Her too.” Jaskier nods solemnly.

The boy waves nervously at Jaskier, and then the mare. His big brown eyes bore into Jaskier’s with hope and trust, a trust that will be returned decades from now, for him at least.

“Goodbye.”

Once again, Jaskier is left alone. Snow falls silently in the courtyard like it has been for days.

  The rest of the day passes in a blur. Jaskier goes through dinner without a word, no matter how the four witchers try to engage with him.

Eskel is his usual self, nice and respectful, not prodding after noticing Jaskier in a weird mood. It’s something Lambert physically cannot do, because he constantly asks Jaskier what is wrong, trying to get a response out of him.

“You smell miserable, buttercup, like you are about to pass out.”

Jaskier imagines the tight smile he offers is not the most convincing, since everyone only gets more concerned. Ciri puts her hand on his arm as a silent question, and when she can’t get an answer she starts brooding just like Geralt.

Jaskier would laugh at their likeness if not for his mind racing so fast.

Geralt must have noticed the moment he came back from the stables. He has not let Jaskier out of his sight since, his worry silent but not pushing. After dinner, Jaskier can still feel the weighted gaze on his back, following him all the way back to the bedroom.

He leads Geralt into his room at the end of the hallway and shuts the door. With a soft click of the door, Jaskier turns to throw himself at the witcher with a force that would have knocked over any other man, but Geralt only catches his momentum, solid and steady. He buries his nose into Geralt’s shoulder and lets the familiar smell of pine and soap fill his senses.

“What’s wrong, Jaskier?” Geralt’s voice rumbles out of his chest, deep and patient. “You know, Lambert was right. You smell so…sad.”

“I made you a promise.” Jaskier’s voice is muffled by Geralt’s shoulder.

“What?”

“I made you a promise. Years ago for me, and years from now for you. To always have faith in you, even when you make mistakes.” Jaskier extracts his limbs and looks into the confusion in the flowing amber. He presses their lips together, sweet and lingering, like they have all the time in the world. The kiss tastes like the lost years between them, all the laughter and heartaches, the lust and yearning, and the dust and smoke from war. He pulls away.

The last time he kissed Geralt, it was by the side of a road, full of rage and hurt. This time, it’s hope that rises like a winter sun, cozy but not sweltering.

“This is me keeping that promise.”

“Jaskier,” Geralt swallows, composing himself, “You know I won’t hold it against you. It’s not fair for you to be pressured into this just for something I haven’t asked of you yet. I meant it when I said you can take all the time you need, because I did fuck up, and I’m so –”

“Don’t apologize again,” Jaskier interrupts, “I know how sorry you feel, how you’ll still feel even years from now. Just – don’t.”

He presses his forehead to Geralt’s and they breathe in tandem. Maybe he’s still affected by the memory of Geralt as a child, scared and alone, unaware of the hurt he’s about to receive. The trials, growing up away from home, training to become a weapon, the glares people cast at him. Jaskier shudders to think, desperately needing to shield his witcher from the world, but he was powerless in the stable this afternoon. He is not powerless now.

“How about a promise you did hear from me?” he asks.

Geralt frowns in confusion, waiting for him to explain, so Jaskier cups Geralt’s jaw to study him again, his thumb resting exactly where he wiped tears off of the boy hours ago.

“They were brown.”

The confusion in the amber eyes only grows.

“Your eyes, before the trials. They used to be brown.”

Geralt still looks at him incredulously. When it comes out like that, Jaskier probably sounds crazy.

“Your mother left you by the side of the road. She told you to get water, and when you got back she was gone,” he swallows, “You waited, holding a bucket of water. You waited until you went somewhere else. Somewhere cold, there’s a horse and snow and –”

“Oh.”

Realization dawns on Geralt like a lightning strike. He stares at Jaskier in disbelief.

“All these years –” he whispers, “How is it possible? I thought it was a dream. Vesemir told me it was a dream, that I was in so much shock that I conjured it up in my mind. A horse in the snow, chestnut brown, and…”

“And me,” Jaskier almost chokes out, “It wasn’t a dream.”

Geralt looks pained. All this talk about that day must be dredging up terrible memories and Jaskier never wants to hurt him on top of that.

“Do you remember what I said before you went back?”

To which Geralt chuckles tightly.

“That whole day was a bit hazy in my memory, Jask. Vesemir was right in that I was in shock. And I’ve tried so hard to forget about that day, to bury it so I don’t have to think about it.” he holds on to Jaskier, studying him in a new light. “I just remember that you made me feel so warm, Jask. You were the only good thing on the worst day of my life.”

The ache in Jaskier’s chest lessens somehow at those words. For whatever reason destiny decided to weave their fates together, he’s grateful for it just for that moment’s solace alone.

“You knew you were leaving.”

“I did. Now that I know, it was the first time I ever got pulled through time. To you.”

“I did promise we would see each other again.” Jaskier smiles.

Geralt pauses for a moment. Gradually, the golden yellow lights up like the most beautiful constellation in the night sky.

“You promised to never leave me.”

This time when their lips come together, it’s quiet and natural, like a piece of puzzle falling into place. Jaskier backs Geralt towards the bed, and they almost fall over onto the mattress, breaking the contact.

Geralt chases him with heated fervor, to which Jaskier gladly returns with a soft moan. He’s missed his witcher after all. Any space separating them at this moment needs to be closed like it personally offends him.

Tomorrow morning, Jaskier will wake Geralt with fingers through his hair and lips pressed to his forehead. Tomorrow Jaskier will tell him how much he loves him, over and over again. It won’t be the first time Jaskier has uttered the words, but it will be the first affirmation Geralt receives. Tomorrow Geralt will crinkle his eyes and return the words sleepily while dragging Jaskier back under the covers.

Tomorrow they’ll start a new chapter, together.

For now, they fall into each other under the night sky of the Blue Mountains, in a small room with a roaring fire burning in the hearth, tucked away from war and heartbreak.

[kunikiiida-kuuun]

Part Of You (Kunikida x reader)

As Kunikida's hand hovers over the wooden shelf in search for a certain document, instead of the familiar row of neatly arranged files, he is greeted with a sight of dolls lined up next to each other.

"What... “Kunikida mutters under his breath. Upon closer inspection, he finds that they aren't just ordinary dolls. They are dolls modeled after every member of the Detective Agency, each doll matching perfectly to their counterpart.

"Who put their dolls here?! And where are the files that were kept here?" Kunikida points towards the dolls and looks for an answer from his seated colleagues.

“Don’t worry, the files have been moved to that shelf.” You come up to Kunikida, smiling widely, "Aren't they adorable? Kyouka-chan made them with Naomi-san's help!" When you suddenly lean in close to Kunikida and he can’t help but stiffen up. Even though the two of you had recently started dating, Kunikida wanted things to be strictly professional at work. "Kyouka-chan said she had made her own dolls before." You whisper into his ear.

He nods curtly, understanding your underlying meaning. Her parents had been killed while she was still a child. A comfortable life had been snatched away from her, a child forced to grow up to early in this harsh world.

Yet, all Kunikida wanted right now was to complete his file work on time.

In spite of himself, Kunikida doesn't ask Kyouka to put the dolls away. Moreover, he had been caught by you, admiring the dolls she was steadily adding to the collection, each of them better than the other. He didn't say it out loud but Kunikida really loved the little version of you; everything about the doll right from the adorable shape of your face down to the smile resembled you accurately.

He also didn’t comment on it, but the day Kyouka presented the doll she made after him, he was secretly really happy about it. On the other hand, he saw that you were hardly concealing your excitement about it, constantly giggling adorably over his furrowed eyes and how cute his little smile looked, distracting him from the work at hand more than he let on.

One morning Kyouka stands before the shelf wearing her usual stoic expression, "It's not here." She mutters under her breath.

Atsushi comes up to her and asks, "What's not here?"

She turns to look at him and points at the shelf, "One doll is missing."

Atsushi scans the shelf, sure enough all the dolls had to be here...That's when he realizes that it's Kunikida's doll that is missing.

"That's strange." he frowns, tapping his chin in thought. "Who would take it?" He adds after a moment of speculation, "If it's Kunikida-san's doll that was taken, then I suppose it could only have been taken by Kunikida-san himself, right?"

When they seek to inquire him about it, they are barely able to get their question through as Kunikida was as busy early in the morning as ever. The two youngsters go around the office asking every agency member if they happened to see the doll anywhere. Tired of watching their poor attempt at an investigation, Ranpo finally speaks up, "I know who has the doll."

Atsushi beams at Ranpo, who was smiling like a cunning cat, legs propped over his table in his usual carefree manner. "Were you able to deduce it using your ability, Ranpo-san?"

Ranpo snorts at Atsushi's obvious naiveté, "Of course not. I only happened to see the person concerned when they thought that nobody was around."

Atsushi continues smiling, happy to know that the mystery would be solved, "Who is it then?" Although it was strange to wonder that anybody had taken it, since they practically asked everyone in the office.

"That person is," Ranpo's emerald eyes gleam with the familiar shine he has when he declares the murderer in a murder case, "You, y/n."

You flinch as all eyes turn to you, including Kunikida's, even though he was engaged in his paperwork, his eyes full of surprise. All your previous attempts to hide behind your laptop fail as you find out that the cats out of the bag.

Before anyone can get a word in, you shoot up from your seat, "I-I'm sorry for all the trouble!" you pull out the doll from your bag and go over to Kyouka, holding it before her.

"I'm sorry Kyouka-chan. I was playing a bit with it and somehow, the sleeve tore off. I didn't want to upset you so I took it home for repair." you explained to the young girl. You bowed in apology, "I'm really sorry."

Kyouka nods slowly, accepting your explanation. "It’s alright." she takes the doll from you and holds it up to inspect it. It was barely noticeable but it was obvious to the maker the difference in the stitches. “Thank you for mending it.”

"That's solved then!" Atsushi chirps happily. As the minor distraction had been resolved, the workers are about to return to their work when Ranpo speaks up once again.

"That story may be true, but there's more to it isn't it, Y/N?" He smiles, eyes twinkling with amusement.

You hesitate, and stutter upon your words, “W-What are you talking about, Ranpo-san? What more can possibly be there to it?”

"Well, certainly you don't need to take it all the way home to mend a small tear like that?" This time it’s Dazai, who leans forward on his desk and smiles innocently at you, "Since you did lend Haruno-chan a needle and thread that you carried in your bag when she needed to mend her skirt in an emergency."

You stand hesitantly at a complete loss for words at their observations, although this much must be a piece of cake for the two clever detectives. "Uh... Well... “You search for an explanation in your head, a single excuse to escape the situation, but you know you've arrived at a dead end, considering it was Ranpo and Dazai before you.

Your jaw drops in shock as this time Kunikida asks you directly, "Then for what reason did you take it home?"

"Do you want to know?" Ranpo grins, his glasses glinting in the sunlight.

Realizing that you have no chance of escape at this point, you quickly grab Kunikida's arm and pull him out of the room. Closing the door behind, silence engulfs among the two of you as you try to gather your thoughts. A moment passes before Kunikida's deep baritone cuts through your thoughts, "Well? Are you going to say something?"

“First I need you to promise that you won’t laugh.” You look at him with such a determined look, he simply nods without a question, “Okay, I promise.”

You bite your lip nervously, your eyes darting all over the place, "You see... I was just..."

“It’s been a while since we went on a date or spent any time together,” You start to explain while he nods nimbly, prompting you to continue. With the sudden increase in the number of requests piling up for the agency, Kunikida was the first to arrive at office and last to leave. It was unlike him, but there was no other choice than to postpone the dates he had planned with you. You had been so kindly understanding about the situation that Kunikida thinks he fell in love with you even more.

“And you don’t like any sort of PDA…” You mumbled to which you added hastily, “Which I completely understand, and agree with.” He nods again silently.

"But that doll looked so much like you... I thought it would be nice to hold it…Like having a part of you with me...“You explain with faltering confidence, feeling more and more embarrassed at yourself. At this point maybe a double suicide with Dazai sounded like a good offer.

"And before I knew it, I carried it off with me.” You fidget with your sleeves absentmindedly. “I mean what could I even say? ‘Hey, can I just borrow this adorable plushie of my boyfriend for one night?’ without seeming like a weirdo.” You continue ranting before noticing that Kunikida hasn’t said a word all along.

“C-Can you please say something?” You hadn’t expected him to be this silent. Kunikida continues to stand still, eyes shaded by the glint of his glasses. There is a sinking feeling in your stomach like you've disappointed him. "I'm sorry if I creeped you out, okay? I don't know what made me do such a thing! You must think that I'm so childish right? Honestly I'm not-"

You stop when you notice Kunikida’s shoulder quiver and he turns away quickly from you, covering his mouth.

“Hey, you’re laughing at me aren’t you?!” Your voice comes out as a squeal your and cheeks turn red in embarrassment. His reaction completely takes you by surprise.

Kunikida bites his lip, clearly restraining himself. He clears his throat and composes himself, “No, I’m not.”

“Yes you are! Even though you promised not to laugh!” You pout your lips at this. “So much for being a man of his words!”

You let out a gasp as Kunikida pulls you into a bear hug. "If you wanted a hug, you should have just asked for it." he whispers softly.

Getting over your initial shock, you immediately melt into his arms, all your worrisome thoughts scurrying away. "I'm sorry; I didn't want you to think of me as clingy just when we started dating."

"An ideal boyfriend takes care of his partner's needs." he says in his monotonous manner that makes you smile widely.

You feel a blush spread on your face as he whispers, "Besides, you don't need a doll for something like that when you can have all of the real thing." Kunikida's husky voice in your ear was making you weak in the knees and you were glad that he was holding you firmly, a hand hooked onto your waist and another caressing your head softly.

You remain in each other’s arms for a few minutes until Kunikida asks, "Are you satisfied?"

You nod your head even though either of you seem reluctant to let go. He had his schedule to adhere to, yet when it came to you, he seemed to forget the looming sense of time and work.

"Let's get back to work, shall we?" Kunikida adjusts his glasses and clears his throat awkwardly a slight blush adorning his cheeks as well, as he suddenly remembered that they were still at work.

You nod, a blush still gracing your cheeks, "I'm sorry for interrupting your schedule."

"Don't be silly. You know you're more important than that." At this, your heart flutters just like a young girl in love. You're amazed at how he says the most romantic things without even trying to do so. “I’ll make up for all the time we lost. I promise.”

If possible, your cheeks heat up even more, "Okay." You compose yourself, reminding yourself that the others were still present behind that door.

Nodding his head curtly, he pushes the door open to re-enter the office. As you walk back to your seat, you feel a few lingering eyes follow you, but apart from that everyone is silent, focused on their work.

When it seems like everything is normal, Dazai's drawls out in his teasing voice, "A nice long kiss would have been better, Kunikida-kun. How boring." He stretches out his words, making a perfect mockery Dazai style.

Not even a second passes as Kunikida explodes like a volcano and holds Dazai in a choke hold, a string of insults pouring out, while the man in question continues smiling and teasing his partner even more.

You try to hide your face behind a file in embarrassment. The rest of the agency tries to ignore them, but fail, finding Kunikida's reaction so obvious and hilarious.

All among the chaos in the background, Kyouka walks up to the shelf of dolls and makes a slight alteration.

She places Kunikida's doll next to yours, tiny hands entwined together, and smiles to herself in satisfaction.

[alitaimagines]

characters: reiner braun, levi ackerman, porco galliard, bertholdt hoover, eren jaeger - ATTACK ON TITAN

song recommendation: breathin’ - ariana grande 

note: I wanted to do the ‘I’m breaking up with you’ prank scenario with the AoT characters. inspiration behind this came from @emsvegetables​. for obvious reasons, this is an AU. but I wanna do another thing like this for another anime so please lemme know which you would like to see!! 

REINER BRAUN: 

you decided to tell him a random day where the both were at his house, relaxing and more than likely watching TV. you bent over him and softly grabbed his hand as he turned to you. 

“Reiner, I’ve been thinking this for a while but I think we need to break up.”

this poor child. don’t do this to him. he’ll get so upset so quickly. Reiner immediately sat up straight and looked at you with his eyes already pricking tears. 

Reiner ran through a million scenarios as to what made you want to break up with him. 

did you like someone else? did you gain feelings for Porco of all people? Reiner knew that his depression got the best of him on some days but was it that?

you immediately started to panic at his reaction as he couldn’t even dare to even look at you. 

“was it something I did? was I not enough?” he simply asked. 

your eyes widened as his response. 

“because whatever it was, I am so sorry and I understand that I could be a better boyfriend but I respect your decision. I’ll be supporting you and whoever you decide to date next, no matter how much it hurts.” 

your mouth dropped before you tackled him into a hug. 

“Reiner, baby, I’m joking. I didn’t mean it.” 

you kissed his cheek as you felt him embrace you even tighter. the two of you were quiet for a few minutes before he pulled away and cradled your head with his hands. 

“don’t ever joke like that again. you have no much you actually mean to me. I felt like my heart shattered into a million pieces.” 

you nodded as you placed a soft kiss on his lips before deciding that he needed a few cuddles. 

you ended up passing out asleep but the words still stuck with him. he shifted the both of you as he wanted to cuddle you correctly and had you laid on top of him. 

he placed a kiss on the top of your head before hugging you again. thank god it was only a prank or else he probably would have been bawling his eyes out to Bertholdt. 

LEVI ACKERMAN: 

you hadn’t been with Levi in a long time. his job had him constantly at work so on his day off, all he wanted to do was spend it with you and actually relax. 

the two of you were probably reading and drinking some tea when you finally decided to make the joke. 

“Levi?” you asked, “this has been running through my head all day and I’ve finally gained the courage to tell you. I want to break up.” 

oh, he might not show it like Reiner does but this man is dis FUCKING straught. he remained staring at you but you can see it in his eyes that his heart fucking BROKE. 

the air was thick as Levi knew exactly why you probably wanted to break up. he was always at work, never pulled enough time in his day to be with you, and you probably got tired of it and found someone else. 

“I understand and I’m glad you decided not to pull the relationship any further. whoever is making you happy now, I’m glad someone is doing it again. I know I am wasn’t as present as I should have been in this relationship however like I’ve said, I appreciate that you were so straight forward about it.” 

you gave him another look as you could tell Levi was holding back tears. you knew it took a lot in him to even open up to the idea of you dating him and now you were leaving him for someone else. 

“Levi, sweetheart, I’m joking. I don’t actually want to break up with you. It was a prank.” 

Levi stayed silent before giving a silent chuckle. you watched as a single stray tear fell down his face and that was enough for you. you immediately went to him and wiped it off before moving his hair out of his face. 

“I promise, from now on, I’ll try to be more present in the relationship. I know my job has me pulled in seventeen different directions at the same time but hearing you say that put it into perspective that I never want to lose you.” 

you nodded as you grabbed his hand and gave the back of it a kiss. you had your legs wrapped around his waist as your face was snuggled into his neck. you placed a small kiss on his neck making him chuckle. 

“I love you, don’t ever forget that.”

you nodded but didn’t respond. you weren’t expecting suck a strong reaction from the man whose only other emotion aside from being stoic was anger. 

PORCO GALLIARD: 

you and porco had just finished having sex so it wasn’t unusual for the two of you to poke fun at each other after it. Porco was sipping on a warm beer as you were just laying in bed. 

Porco had felt your eyes on him and gave you look indicating why were you staring at him that way. 

“Porco, what I’m about to tell you is not going to be good but please promise me that you won’t be upset. I want to break up.” 

his eyes immediately flashed to anger. I imagine that Porco might be one of the two who’ll get angry before getting sad or upset. he slammed the beer he was drinking onto the bedside table before looking at you. 

“are you serious? why? who the hell put you up to this? was it bitch ass Reiner? did he convince you that I’m some kind of demon? I have to kick his ass.” 

you wondered why Porco’s first reaction to that was Reiner of all people. you weren’t even that close to the blond but you knew the two of them had some bad history together, however, you never talked to him unless you absolutely had too. 

“well? who am I paying a visit too? huh? was it because I wasn’t enough? was it my anger issues? I can promise to work on them. don’t leave me!” 

you wouldn’t have guessed that Porco of all people would have a reaction this strong but he did. his pale face went red as he pulled his boxers on before trying to find his shoes. you immediately grabbed his wrist and pulled him back. 

“Porco, baby, I’m kidding. I was joking! I don’t want to break up. relax!” 

his gave you another look before trying to see if you were serious or if you were trying to make this break up into an even bigger joke. once he realized that you weren’t actually being serious, he still had anger bubbled up inside of him. 

“why would you joke that way? do you realize how much you mean to me, dumbass? I thought you actually wanted to break up.” 

you pulled him on top of you before shaking your head. 

“I thought it would be funny but I don’t actually want too. I love you, you fucking idiot! but my question is, why would you even think that Reiner was the reason behind me wanting to break up with you?” 

he didn’t respond as he pinned you against the bed. 

“don’t even mention that bastards name. I thought he plotted it against me as some form of revenge.” 

you laughed as you pulled him into a kiss and told him to forget about Reiner. he nodded as he delved into another passionate kiss knowing where this could lead too.

BERTHOLDT HOOVER: 

you were at a park with Bertholdt, eating ice cream when you went in for the joke. you had looked up to your VERY tall boyfriend and went in for the kill. 

“Bertl, I want to get this off my chest already, I don’t think we should be together anymore.” 

he probably react like Reiner in some way, shape, or form. probably not as emotional but he would get visibly upset. his ice cream fell on the floor and he bent down to your height. 

within the seconds that he was staring at you without saying anything, thoughts ran through his head. 

why? was it because of how awkward he was? he swore when the two of you got together that he would work on it. he knew he wasn’t the most romantic or the most visible with his vulnerable side but he loved you and wanted to marry you if he got the chance. 

“I guess you taking the Hoover last name won’t happen anymore, will it? but whatever makes you happy, baby. just tell me one last time that you love me?”

you immediately shook your head no as you tried to retract your joke right away. you pulled him into a secluded part of the park right away before shaking your head again. 

“Bertl, I was kidding. I don’t actually want to break up. I swear, it was joke.”

you watched as his face fell to relief before bending down to your height again and embracing you before giving you a kiss on the cheek. 

“thank God. I know I can work on myself in this relationship but I’m serious, I want you to have my last name one day. you’re the only one I can picture myself with.” 

you felt like crying at his confession. you never realized how much Bertl wanted to be with you, let alone wanted to marry you. the two of you had joked about getting married before but hearing that that was the first thing he thought of made your heart shatter yet flutter at the same time.

“and I promise Bertl, I will, one day. or maybe you can even take my last name.” 

he chuckled before giving you a kiss and quickly hauling you over him to give you a piggyback ride back to the car. 

Eren Jaeger: 

the two of you were trapped inside of the house due to the snow storm that was ravaging outside your door. you were cuddled up against Eren as you held him for warmth when you decided to make your joke. 

“Eren? what if I told you I didn’t want to be with you anymore?” 

Eren would be the other one to be angry before being upset or sad. also another person who pictured you to marry him. Eren, unlike Bertl, actually had your first name written with his last name attached on random notebooks, scraps of paper, and even did it on tree bark once. 

“what happened to ( your name ) jaeger, huh? we were supposed to get married! I’m not going to stop you from breaking up with me but we were supposed to make it through until the end!” 

you kind of figured that anger would be his first reaction but you didn’t expect him to be THIS angry. his hands were clenched together and he was ready to hit a wall if he was honest but he had worked on his anger in anger management and knew there was consequences to doing such an action.

“who is it? huh? was it horse face? I know he has eyes on you. did he finally get you to himself? I’m gonna fucking kill him.” 

you immediately grabbed his hand but made sure to touch it as gently as possible. 

“Eren, babe, I kidding! I was just fucking around! I don’t actually want to break up with you.” 

his anger immediately went away as he watched you crawl up against him to give him a kiss. he still had a salty feeling inside of him but nevertheless let you kiss him. 

“you’re mine. remember that (WHY DID THIS TURN SO YANDERE ALL OF A SUDDEN???).”

“always. I’ll let you have me for as long as you want.” 

Eren in hummed in response before resuming the position the two of you were in before you went and told your very unfunny joke. 

ALITA 

[behindheremeraldeyes]

sasusaku month 2020 day 05- arrivals

title: Flying Home

summary: Airport AU - Sakura comes back from the Wind Country after almost 7 months and her boyfriend is there to pick her up.

a/n: I had this idea when I went to pick up my brother at the airport last year and I saw those vending machines with flowers. They were just so cute and I HAD to picture a SasuSaku scene from it! This is a small fluff and my beta-reader was a bit busy, so it’s also un-beta’d. I apologize for the grammar mistakes in advance, but I hope you can enjoy it! 

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'Just landed.’

Her message had arrived almost 15 minutes before, and ever since, his poor heart refused to settle. His eyes drifted from the watch on his wrist to the gate in front of him, his throat growing dryer by the second. He wasn’t wearing a tie and his shirt was a larger model, but suddenly, he grew aware of his own breath as it became hard to inflate his lungs.

At that moment, the buzzing of the airport was invading his ears, making it incredibly difficult for him to concentrate. Different voices in different languages were mixing together, and he could feel himself growing anxious, for none of those voices belonged to her. His hands began sweating, his heart paced up and Goddamn it, Sakura, why are you taking so long to retrieve two bags?!

Sasuke was really feeling like an idiot at that moment as he stood just below the yellow sign that read ’Arrivals’. He had been there for at least 40 minutes, waiting for his girlfriend who was expected to come out through those automatic doors any minute now. He was holding a bouquet of flowers he had just bought at one of those refrigerated vending machines, and he hoped he had chosen the right ones.

He was no expert in flowers or anything, but he was almost 100% sure that, at some point, she had mentioned liking the alstroemeria, so he ended up picking that bouquet. They were white with a dusty shade of red, and for some reason, he liked to believe they were quite fitting for welcoming his girlfriend home.

It had been almost 7 months since he had last seen her pretty, green eyes. She was crying on that day, saying how much she would miss him and everyone else, and how he would better pick up the phone whenever she called him, despite the different time-zones. As a doctor, she had been offered a chance to work overseas in a small hospital for disadvantaged communities, and she couldn’t find it in herself to say no. Ever since she graduated from med school, he remembered how much she wanted to help those in need, and even if it would take her away for a couple of months, there was no way he could not support her.

She had worked very hard for that, and finally, she was given a chance. He could never stand between her and her dreams, and even if he would miss her, Sasuke had to let her go. Not forever, of course, but for the longest 6 months and 23 days of his life. Some days were lonelier than others, especially when she didn’t really pick up her phone, but at last, she was back where she belonged.

Haruno Sakura was home. And even if he was able to withstand so long without her, those last minutes were putting his self-control to test.

Sasuke was growing impatient now, his right foot tapping rhythmically against the floor. He looked around one more time before deciding to check his wristwatch, and he grew angrier when he realized it had barely passed 3 minutes since he had last checked. He glared at the pointers, as if threatening them for not moving fast enough, and that was when he realized he had to calm down. That would be the first time they would be seeing each other after so long, and by no means could he welcome her with a bothered face.

He took a deep breath, then, closing his eyes for an instance as if to allow the anger in his system to dissipate. Mentally, he counted up to 10, and slowly, he opened his dark orbs again. He was feeling a bit better now, and for a moment, he actually believed he had managed to control his flourishing emotions. Everything was back to normal, as expected from his cool and stoic nature. 

But that normal only lasted until he looked at his watch again just to see that only 1 minute had passed.

Fuck this, he thought, clearly forgetting about all that inner peace he was aiming for. Even if he was very aware of the consequences of trespassing certain areas of the airport, at that moment, Sasuke was actually considering the idea of going all the way to the baggage area so he could do something productive instead of just keep waiting out there.

Yes, that really seemed like a good idea. However, before he could defy the airport security, the automatic doors in front of him opened, and a sea of people started walking out of it. 

The people who stood by his side were now smiling and waving at their loved ones. Eyes were widening in a moment of pure happiness, and he could almost feel how tight they hugged each other. It was a very heartwarming scene, indeed, but the Uchiha just couldn’t find it in himself to care about those strangers. His eyes moved frenetically, searching for his girlfriend in the middle of those nameless faces, and even if he didn’t think it was possible, his heart was beating even faster now. 

She had to be there, he thought. His free hand had now turned into a fist as he moved his head so he could have a clearer view of the people coming through. Some were shorter, others were taller, some were just kids and others walked by hand in hand. There were all kinds of people there, but he only cared about one.

And once he saw that pink hair of hers in the middle of that crowd, a wave of relief hit him, and after so long, it was as if he could finally breath.

As soon as he landed his eyes on her, it was as if a huge weight was lifted from his chest. There she was, at last, and even from afar, he could see the changes in her form. 

Her hair was longer, to the point where she had tied it into a small ponytail, and her bangs were now framing her face. Her skin looked a bit tanned, as if she had been kissed by the sun of the Wind Country, and her green eyes looked even brighter than before. She also looked quite adventurous, wearing a plaid-green shirt, dark jeans and the dark brown tracking-boots they had bought before she left; and at that moment, even without hearing a word from her, Sasuke could tell she was a different woman.

She looked stronger, now, more mature. She was probably tired from the flight, but there was something about the atmosphere around her that made her stand out. That girl looked very different from the one that had left all those months before, but as soon as their eyes connected and she smiled oh-so-tenderly at him, Sasuke could tell she was still the same Sakura— she was still his Sakura.

And at last, she was home.

When her green orbs saw him, it was possible to see her eyes beaming with joy. She waved vigorously at him, a wide smile spread across her face, and he watched as the backpack behind her started jumping a little when she fastened her pace. Sakura was sure looking like a child at that moment, and even if he would normally act concealed around her, not even he could suppress the soft smile that took over his lips as he slowly waved back. 

He simply observed as she tried her best to make her way towards him, and he couldn’t help but giggle when he saw her trying to dodge an old lady that was walking slowly in front of her. It was obvious that she was in a rush to be with him, and as soon as the path in front of her was clear, the Haruno girl wasted no time before literally running towards him. The wheels on her suitcase were rolling as she quickened her pace, and even though she was just a couple of meters away from him now, he soon realized Sakura showed no intention of stoping.

“Sasuke-kun!” She practically screamed in pure happiness, her eyes set on him with a fierce objective. 

His eyes suddenly widened at her excited approach, and all he could do was brace himself for the impact. Her hands irresponsibly let go of the suitcase, and if not for his good reflexes, it would’ve kept on rolling around the airport. He used his free hand to stop the moving bag, and by the time he returned his attention to the girl, she had already thrown her arms around him in an incredibly tight embrace.

Her feet weren’t touching the ground anymore, and he could feel her hot cheeks pressed against his neck. Her hands were pressed against his shoulders, and though he was certainly not expecting her to literally throw herself at him, it didn’t take long before the Uchiha got used to the feeling of having her back in his embrace. His eyes closed, then, finally answering her gesture. 

He wrapped his arm around her, bringing her even closer, as in fear she would disappear. Her scent filled his nostrils and the warmth of her body made him tremble in pure bliss. God, he had missed her. Missed her body, her scent, her voice—just everything about her. They say the absence makes the heart grow fonder and it’s important for lovers to take a break every now and then, but at that moment, he couldn’t care less about what such stupid words. He never wanted to be separated from her again, and every moment they were apart only served for him to miss her even more.

Sasuke wanted to be with her for the rest of his days. And now that he was aware of such feelings, perhaps, he should consider doing something about that once they were back home.

When her grip around him loosened, he carefully placed her back on the ground, and slowly, her pink head lifted so she could look him in the face. Her cheeks were blushing, her eyes were shining and there was a smile spread from ear to ear. Sakura was really happy to see him, and he was certain his own happiness was also stamped on his face. 

“Hey, stranger.” She said, her voice soft and low, his ears delighted by the sound.

“Took you long enough to retrieve your bags.”

“Well, about that…” She giggled. "There was this kid trying to get his own bags, but they were too heavy for him. I had to give him a hand.”

“Tch, aren’t you tired of taking care of random children?” He teased, knowing her kind heart would never be tired of such thing.

“No, not yet.” She chuckled, adjusting the strap of her backpack on her shoulder.

“And how was your flight?”

“Too long! I just couldn’t wait to get home. I don’t think I was able to sleep at all!”

“Once we get home, try to get some sleep, then.”

“I certainly will.” She nodded, still smiling at him. “Oh, Sasuke-kun, It was so good working with those people! Though they thank us for helping them, we are the ones who should be thanking them for teaching us so many things! I have so much to tell you!”

“I can’t wait to hear it.” He said, honestly. “Your hair is longer, too.”

“Yeag, I guess it is.” She started, her fingers softly dancing around her pink locks. “I didn’t have time to cut it, but now that I’m back, I’ll ask Ino to help me with that as soon as I see her. Feels kinda strange, don’t you think?”

“You look great, Sakura.” He smiled at her, his eyes growing fonder. “Really great.”

The blush on her cheeks turned redder, and for a second, her eyes drifted from his. Sasuke watched as they stopped on his left hand, and it took him a couple of seconds to understand what exactly she had set her eyes on.

The flowers, of course.

“What are those?” She asked, curiously, though the answer was obvious.

“I've bought them for you.” He started, offering her the bouquet. She carefully took it from his hands, and when she lifted it near her eyes, he realized that, indeed, he had made the right choice.

“Thank you so much, Sasuke-kun.” Sakura said, her voice trembling in pure emotion. He watched as tears threatened to pool around her eyes, but she wiped them before they even had the chance ruin her face— not that her tears could actually ruin anything. “I love them. They’re beautiful.”

And I love you, he thought, being caught by surprise by his own thoughts. Though he had known it for a while now, the realization would always catch him by surprise.

“I'm glad you liked them.”

“Of course I do!” She chuckled. “I'm so happy to be home!” At that moment, as he saw her smiling with the flowers, Sasuke realized he had been contaminated by her joy. It was an emotional moment between them, and suddenly, he realized he wanted to be honest about his feelings. It felt odd to even think about verbalizing such things— especially since he has always been a man of few words— but he figured the moment asked for something unexpected.

“Sakura.” He started, his voice filled with tenderness and longing. His eyes were locked with hers and at that moment, he felt like he could look at her for hours so he could make up for all the lost time. He cleared his throat, then, taking a deep breath before continuing. “I've missed you. A lot.”

Though the words that came out of his mouth were simple and she could’ve concluded that just by the look in his eyes, listening to him actually saying that melted her heart, and suddenly, her lips started to tremble. Her eyes were turning redder, as if she was about to cry, and she nodded a couple of times before actually parting her lips to answer him. “I've missed you, too, Sasuke-kun. Like, really missed you. And though I loved being there, It’s so good to be finally back. To be finally home, with you.”

As she said those words, her eyes were filled with a mix of innocence and fondness, and if not for all of those people around them, Sasuke would’ve kissed her on the spot. His heart was finally feeling lighter inside his chest, and he could never find the words to describe how that girl made him feel everything so vividly. From the sadness of seeing her go, to the happiness of having her back, she was the one to be blamed for every skipped beat of his heart and for every smile on his face.

When she first left, Sakura took a part of his heart with her, and now that she was back, Sasuke could finally feel himself whole again.

Once more, they were side-by-side, and now—well— they could go back to their wonderful life.

Once more, they could go home together.

“It’s good to have you back, Sakura.”

She wiped a tear that left her eye, a huge smile on her face now. “Thank you for welcoming me.”

“Of course.” He said, picking the handle of her suitcase so he could carry it for her. “Now let’s go home.”

As they smiled at each other, they walked side by side, a little closer than necessary. Just two, young lovers like so many others, finally reunited.

Finally together.

fin.

[zayray030]

Why can't you understand? I didn't want this.

Summary: Bruce wanted to cry. Or die. Whichever came first really. He was just so tired. Why couldn't anyone understand that he didn't want his kids to have this life? Why couldn't his own kids understand that?

Bruce wanted to cry. Or die. Whichever came first really because he really wanted to get out of the cave.

The reason why he didn't want to be in the cave was because of his kids.

Now, he loves his kids. He never wants anything bad to happen. He never wants to see them cry or get hurt. He just wants to see them happy and living happy normal lives. And if he actually had a say in it, then they would have normal lives. But they were all dumbasses. Lovable dumbasses, but dumbasses non the less.

Currently they were all ganging up on him for taking them into this life.

It had all started when Bruce was typing in the report for the night. He had the costume off and the place was silent. Normally meaning that it was going to be interrupted one way or another and one of his kids will storm away from him or in tears and shouting at him. Well he got the first one right, just not the last one. He would be the one in tears shouting at them.

“Hey, Bruce!” exclaimed his oldest son as he walked into the cave, while Barbara wheeled along with him she gave him a small smile before going back talking to Dick.

Bruce just gave a small nod of acknowledgement and continued typing on the batcomputer. Soon, all the other others began joining in and they were all huddled around Barbara and Dick. Normally such behaviour would have worried Bruce, considering the fact that a fight would have broken out now, but he didn't pay attention to it. He really needed to finish his report to get some rest for tomorrow.

How naive could he be to hope it would be that simple?

“Hey Bruce? I have a question.” said Tim as he walked over to him, the others following suit behind him, their faces holding anything but innocence.

“I'm sure it can wait, Tim. I have to finish this report and-” started to say Bruce before he was cut off by Jason.

“Nah it can't wait, actually old man.” snapped his second oldest son as he crossed his arms and glared at Bruce. So it was going to be one of those nights. Bruce really didn't want to get onto a fight with his son, especially after they've been doing so well.

“I just need to finish this report. I'm sure he can ask one of you.” replied Bruce, still focusing his attention on the screen and trying to remain calm. However, it was proving harder than he thought. Maybe he should have listened to Alfred when he said to go and sleep earlier.

“He can't exactly ask us on why you insist on having child soldiers.” Dick replied, slightly peaceful. He was clearly trying to be the meditator while also making it obvious on whose side he was on. However Bruce could really care less right now. He was just trying to stop himself from crying as the question was asked again.

Why can't they see he didn't want this life for any of them? Why can't they understand it wasn't completely his fault?

“Grayson. Say it nicer.” snapped Damian. Even his own son thought he had child soldiers. He would have at least thought he would be on his side, but no such luck.

Bruce fully turned from the computer, his report half finished. He would continue it later when everyone storms out after he accidentally says something emotionally constipated.

“We are not going to have this conversation right-” tried to say Bruce but he was cut off again, this time by Barbara. She looked slightly guilty by what she was going to say, but it was also obvious that she had wanted to say it for a long time.

“I'm sorry Bruce, but we need to have this conversation right now. It's not safe for you to put a child in a costume and force them to go out and save Gotham. It's not sane either.” she added. That little…

“I-” he tried to say something, anything, to defend himself, but he was interrupted yet again. This time by Cassandra. Even her? She thought he would willingly put children in harm's way? His heart started breaking even more.

“I love dad, but dad hurt others.” she said with the limited words she had learnt. Bruce had to hold back a sob at the fact his daughter said she loved him but had yet again thought that he would harm a child.

“If you let-” tried to explain Bruce. He just wanted to explain that he hadn't wanted all of them to go through this shit. He had wanted them to stay happy and love others as much as he loved them. Why couldn't they see that?

“Let you what? Kill another child in your regime. It's bad enough it happened to me, but it also happened to others because you forced them into this shit show.” snarled Jason, looking at Bruce like he was worse that the scum that he fought nightly. Bruce felt his heart crack even more at the look but he kept his face stoic.

“Would you ju-” tried Bruce again, his temper rising. But instead of steam wanting to come out, it was tears. However he was interrupted by Duke. Why did they have to turn Duke? Duke and him were finally connecting. He may never be able to replace his parents, but he could at least be a good guardian.

“Sorry boss, but why? Like yeah, I get it's hard to navigate life at night, but they were just kids.” he asked, looking at him in disappointment. Bruce felt his heart cracking even further but he just continued to remain stoic.

“Can I just-” he tried to snap but Stephanie cut him off. Poor, sweet Stephanie. The one who had the most horrible relationship with him when she was Robin.

“No, you don't get to be pissed with us when it's your fault for starting this fuckery.” snapped Stephanie. Bruce wanted to cry or hit something, say it wasn't his fault, but he just took it. That's at least until Dick’s comment.

“I mean, you had to weaponize my childhood to start this ridiculous thing-” but Bruce cut him off. If they where going to demand for answers then they would fucking receive.

“Excuse me!?!” he snapped at his oldest,causing a look of surprise to be etched on his face. “I didn't even allow you to go out at night.” when it looked like he was going to get interrupted, he just raised his voice. “You were the dumbass to put on a bright red tunic, green panties and a neon yellow cape on. You decided to go out there and try to find your parents killer and kill him. You decided, without any sort of training, to go out there and find a mob boss, who has more experience than you. I told you multiple times not to. However you wouldn't fucking listen so I decided to make sure you didn't die in the fucking process!!” he yelled at Dick, who just stood there, shocked and if he looked just slightly longer he would have noticed the guilt, but he was already moving on to Barbara.

“You decided after solving one fucking mystery at a fucking Halloween party, while dressed in a ridiculous costume, that you would start fighting crime. You continued trying to fight crime, even after I told you not to. You continued even after I threatened to tell your father. I just fucking decide to make sure that you didn't die, giving the commissioner major heartbreak, so be fucking grateful.” be snarled at Barbara. The normally quick witted woman had nothing to say, just stared at Bruce guiltily. He could barely give a shit as he turned to Jason.

“You decided to steal the tires of the fucking batmobile when you saw it, instead of turning around and going somewhere else. You decided to hit me with a tire iron, instead of just giving me my fucking tires back.” he practically screamed at Jason. Jason was looking at Bruce in horror and that's when he realised that tears were running down his face. Fuck, he hadn't even felt it. “I tried teaching you how to put your size to your advantage by using speed, but you fucking insisted just to punch the villains.”

He then turned to Tim, on a roll now. “I told you to fucking go home! I told you not go out there on the streets of Gotham and fight crime. But NO!! You had to fucking take pictures of me and insist that you be my partner even though you had a good life going for you. You had no fucking training prior and since you were obviously not going to fucking listen to me, I decided that the next best thing was to fucking teach you how to defend yourself.” he screamed at Tim. The coffee addict had the sense to look down guilty and look ashamed of himself. But he didn't care. They asked and he would fucking deliver.

“You decided to instead of turning your father to cops, when finding out he was a supervillian, to dress up in a purple costume and fucking fight crime, even after I told you to fucking go home. Even after I was a dick to you, you decided to stay and not take a fucking hint!” shouted Bruce at Stephanie as he turned to her, not caring at the fact that he was crying openly now. Stephanie just stared at him, horror growing in her eyes.

“I told you not to go to Shiva, but you didn't listen to me! I told you not to insert yourself into dangerous situations but you fucking decided to ignore me and go out to Hong Kong!” he yelled at Cassandra. He didn't bother lowering his voice. He was upset and he wanted his mother telling him that he was doing good and he wanted his dad telling him that he'll protect him.

Cass looked at him with wide eyes but Bruce didn't have it in him to care. He just wanted to go to sleep. He quickly turned to his blood son and softened just the tiniest bits.

“I benched you multiple times after I found out your mother had put a hit on you but you decided to change your name to Red Bird and continue to fight crime! Even after I benched you multiple times and explained to you the dangers of going out there. I told you to stay in the cave and away from the evil zombies invading Gotham but you didn't fucking listen! And that's not even scratching the surface!” he yelled at his son. Damian wasn't crying, but he was frowning and looking mighty guilty but Bruce didn't care. He wanted his own dad and he wanted him now.

“You decided to challenge the riddler when you were barely even in the double digits!” he snapped, turning to the newest member of the family and Duke had the sense to look ashamed of himself as he rubbed the back of his neck. “You continued to fight crime, even after I told you to leave it to the professionals and not to get involved with his shit! But you wouldn't listen, so I had to turn you into a professional!”

“I may not have been the best fucking parent out there, but I damn well tried to make sure you lot didn't die! Was I the best at it? No! But I fucking tried to stop you! So don't you fucking dare say I put you in that costume willingly!” he finally screamed. “I just wanted to be a normal dad! I just wanted to give you guys the experience I never had! I tried my hardest to be a good dad to you all, like my parents were to me.”

Slowly he was trailing off, mostly just half sobs and barely even standing, already on the floor, face in his hands as he cried.

Suddenly he felt small arms wrap around him and he didn't have to be the World's Greatest Detective to know it was Damian.

“I apologise to have caused you such great distress, father.” mumbled Damian into his chest. Bruce didn't care, he just cried into his son's hair.

Slowly, other arms wrapped around his shaking figure and there were a multitude of sorrys coming, but he couldn't pinpoint who said what, he was just so, so, so tired.

*

Later on he woke up on his bed, but he felt a small weight on his chest. Looking down, he saw Damian and when he looked around he saw the rest of his children. Even Barbara was on the bed.

Looking around, he saw Alfred walking in and suddenly everything that had happened last night hit him like a train. Alfred just looked at him in sadness and handed him a cookie.

“I see you have decided to join the land of the living, Master Bruce.” said Alfred, the butler not breaking out of his stoic tone and the only way to know that he was actually worried was if you knew him personally.

He just hummed slightly. “Shit, Alfred I had a meeting and-” Bruce began as he tried to discreetly move Damian, however the child was not budging whatsoever.

“Don't worry, Master Bruce. Everything has been taken care of already. You have no work to do for a week and the children have decided, for their own punishment, to take care of everything for you.” replied Alfred already pushing the man down. Bruce just grumbled and ate his cookie.

“What am I supposed to say Alfred? Nothing I say is going to take back how awf-” began Bruce as sudden guilt began to consume him.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Master Bruce. If anything, the children and I have to give our apologies for berating you for so long.” Alfred said, cutting him off. Alfred had a slightly guilty look at the confession and Bruce wanted to soothe him but he was tired and wanted to go to sleep.

“Sleep some more, Master Bruce. I will inform you if you need to worry about anything.” said Alfred. The old butler walked out but cast one last mournful look behind his back.

“He's right you know.” said a muted voice to his right. Bruce turned around and his eyes caught Jason's blue green eyes, which were swimming with guilt.

Bruce didn't say anything, just draped an arm around Jason and brought him closer to him. He felt his jumper wetten a bit but he didn't care. He just let his son cry on his shoulder. Soon all of his other siblings started to wake up and when they all turned to look at Bruce, he could see the immense guilt in their faces.

There were a lot of sorrys going around and when finally he heard Damian say sorry he spoke.

“We all said hurtful things last night. And it might take a while for us all to get back to where we were, but I forgive you all.”said Bruce. He could still feel their guilt but they'd deal with it. Like a family this time.

“Get some sleep old man.” Dick finally said.

“Yeah! I've already taken care of WE.” said Tim.

“Just get some sleep Bruce.” said Stephanie.

"Sleep, father." said his son nuzzling into him.

Soon he was lulled by his children's quiet voices and his world was consumed in darkness

[idgaf-what-you-call-me]

This is the first time, outside of therapy, that I am opening up fully my past, I ask that you remain respectful.

Trigger warnings: Suicide, torture, neglect, alcoholism, … a lot listen you’ve got to be well resourced before you read this. 

I know Dean, because I was Dean. I was raised to be “perfect”, I am so much like my dad, I didn’t have a childhood, I was tortured, I have lost time (dissociation not possession by an arc angel), I am fairly closeted, and I’m finally starting to get better. 

Ever since a very young child, I was raised to be perfect. To look at a 99 and learn what I got wrong before I brought the grade home, otherwise, I was sent to study. I was raised to not be heard and taught to stay in my room. I was raised to not show emotion because anything more than stoic meant that I was an inconvenience. I had “fend for yourself nights” where I had to sort out what I would eat for dinner, and at inexcusably young ages, 5-6 years old. I learned to shoot at 8, and was taken fishing anytime my dad went. I was brought to the construction sites, learned how to use power tools, and eventually had my own set at home. While I wasn’t trained to hunt demons or other things that go bump in the night, I was molded to be just like my dad. My mom wasn’t around much when I was a kid, so I idolized my father. He was like a god to me. As I got older (legal), I even would drink things that my dad approved of like scotch and I smoked cigars. Often praised, “that’s my girl! Look guys, my daughter drinking scotch and smoking a cigar! Where are your kids?” The validation was like a high to me. I was desperate for his approval. Just like Dean. Talked like his dad, walked like his dad, drank like his dad, I get it. 

I was blatantly ignored including being told that I was invisible by siblings. They would hold up a remote to me and say, “you’re invisible” and ignore me. I could leave the house and they would not come look for me. With my mom and dad often gone (usually working or partying we were quite poor), I didn’t have anyone looking after me since I was 4 so when my dad was around, much like Dean, all I wanted to do was make him happy and proud of me.

I was a closeted bisexual, who made so many gay jokes towards my cishet brother that I feel quite a bit of shame as an adult. I repressed every facet of desire I had for the opposite gender because being bisexual really meant that I must be gay. At least that is what Will and Grace told me, and I did not want to be gay. Things were bad enough, I didn’t need to add to my shit pile. By the time I was 12, I had no idea how to feel emotions and I had no idea how to love myself. Most days, now at 29, I still don’t know how to love myself. I am not out to everyone in my family. I don’t feel safe with everyone. All the gay jokes between the brothers, all the Dean is bi subtext, I lived a lot of it.

Torture can take the shape of many different forms but they fall under two umbrellas: physical and psychological. I was subjected to sound torture and sleep deprivation forms of physical torture that have lasting psychological effects. When you live through something like that, you don’t “rebound” in the traditional sense, and I would dissociate. My consciousness would retreat back into itself until it was safe enough to come back.

I dreaded Thursday nights as that is when it would begin. My father would bring home several cases of Michelob Ultra, from the store, and then he would start drinking. My dad didn’t measure his consumption in beers, instead he measured by the case. A form of extreme binge drinking that to this day I still don’t completely understand. While he would drink, his music would get progressively louder and louder until the whole house vibrated with noise. 

There are some songs and artists that I cannot listen to anymore. They’re not songs by Metallica or Black Sabbath, instead they’re by Credence Clearwater Revival, Bob Dylan, Van Morrison and the like. Songs that people dance to at their weddings, sing at funerals, and enjoy on a road trip with the entire family. They are generally described as lively yet not heavy, yet this music was the conduit of 5 years of actual torture for me. I used to say that these were my favorite songs, but it was a way to cope with hearing them at home, and then hearing them play in the car on the way to school the next morning. In my house, the music was played so loudly that walls and floors shook and overwhelmed my senses and ability to sleep, think, do anything but have a heartbeat and breathe. It would last all night. I never learned to “fall asleep” I would pass out. To this day, I can be desperately tired, and able to drive for several hours without being a dangerous driver. Like my body learned to ignore fatigue. “I just need like 4 hours every couple of days,” yeah Deano, I’ve been there.

I would freeze mentally. Almost like a zone out but on steroids. Then I’d look around and things wouldn’t feel real to me. I would look in the mirror and see a stranger. Now I understand that I had developed dpdr as a way to cope. I don’t wish it on anyone.

My mother? She would leave the house and go clubbing. My siblings were 8 years older than me and lived on their own a great distance from where I lived. Besides, I had school to go to on Fridays. So I cooked, I monitored myself, I had to become an adult. I didn’t get to be a kid. My catharsis was angsty and fluffy Harry Potter fan fiction. You can find it on FF.net, RandHrFan I no longer post with that handle. Dean’s were movies, movies that my dad, and I’d wager his dad watched. I also love westerns just like my dad and my grandfather, there is something about them.

When Dean cries and opens up to Sam about his hell experiences, I get it. I’m so proud of him for telling Sam. To some it seems like he’s closed off but he’s not. He’s opening up as much as he mentally can. And Sam listens. Just like my sister eventually did. When Dean gets mad and yells at John and Mary, I’m proud of him, because he is fighting for himself. He knew he deserved better and he didn’t let it go. Just like I have done in my not so distant past.

All the while my parent’s marriage was fracturing and I was mentally declining. My mom began sleeping in my room and in my bed, and I was basically left to sleep on the couch. On days when my dad would drink, and my mom would go out, I could get to be in my room again. I could be on the computer (laptops weren’t a thing yet) which lived in my room. I could connect with the two other friends on AIM, but the reality of my situation I couldn’t escape. I was isolated, didn’t trust my family and I didn’t know how to ask for help.

One day I attempted to take my life. I saw no value in it. What was I doing with my life. I was a broken human who didn’t deserve love, who didn’t deserve safety, who didn’t deserve well anything. So I downed a bottle of pills. I had an iron clad stomach, I wasn’t too worried about not being successful. Except, I sent a goodbye message to a friend, and that friend saved my life. He got a hold of my sister who got to me in enough time to make me throw up. (She was a champ at that, having suffered from bulimia and taught to throw up from no other than my dad.)

I didn’t receive help afterwards. I signed a paper saying that I wouldn’t attempt again and was taken home. (I hope this isn’t how hospitals roll anymore.) I left my house, I went to school out of state and found stability, created stability for myself. But my past still haunted me whenever I went home. So when Dean has a death wish, and gets discharged from hospitals before he’s stable, I get it.

My parents eventually divorced, and I came home to a place where I couldn’t live anymore for a solid couple of months, I couch surfed, and again my mental health took a nosedive, but nevertheless, I persisted. I got my head back in the game, and finished my degree. Chemistry. I couldn’t go back home, because if I did I’d be working for my dad. I couldn’t do that, it was too painful. So I went to grad school. I got my Ph.D. I began to chart my own path. But there was a rage in me that I couldn’t escape. I lashed out at anyone and everyone to hide the pain that I felt all the time. People were afraid of me. I was great at what I did but I couldn’t make lasting connections with others.

When I was 27 suicidal ideations became dangerous, and I got about as dark. I tried to harm myself, and wanted my world to burn. It didn’t matter that I was married, with pets, and owned a home. Nothing mattered. I finally had to decide between life and death, I couldn’t continue in that state. I can say confidently that I would be dead if I didn’t get help that day. I wish Dean had this chance. He gets close to this in moments with Cas when he is honest about his feelings and experiences, he cries, he gets angry, lashes out, but Cas is there for him. From someone like Dean, I’ll tell you Cas being present holds more weight than gold for Dean.

I have been in intense therapy for a year. By intense I do mean more than once a week, regular check ins with her, and the occasional group session. She sends me articles to read, homework, and we do EMDR work, emotional integration therapy, mindfulness, etc. 

It was then that I began to learn that all the rage that I had built inside me was hiding intense fear, loss, and disappointment. The rage gave way to tears, and the tears gave way to a new anger that I could make peace with. That anger comes from the person I am today. The person who fights for herself. Who doesn’t take shit from anyone. The person who says, humans don’t break, vases break, and I am a human. I see a lot of that in late season Dean. He is a fighter. 

But I am still the person who receives a compliment and shuts down, there is still a side of me that doesn’t believe that I deserve nice things, good things to happen to me, but that person is getting smaller. My therapist likes to hit me with compliments when I am vulnerable as I am more likely to believe them. I still react like a dead fish when she says them, and then after the session sob for hours over it. One day my head and my heart will believe the same things about myself. I would have reacted the same way as Dean to that confession. 

When the cards fall, I still know that I can depend on myself before anyone else because I had to. My life as an impoverished, unstable, depressed, neglected, and abused kid says I should be dead or amounting to nothing, but hear I am. I’ve now closely mentored about 20 undergraduate students, a handful of graduate students, and have helped them find their paths in life. I have taught nearly 1000 students. I made a difference with the life that I tried to throw away. 

I have come to a place where I can love my dad. He is sober again, and yes, my love for him does depend on his sobriety. When he is drinking he is not the same person. I wouldn’t call him an A+ dad by a long shot, and hell I am so much like him that at times it makes me sick, but I do love him. I have been able to forgive him. Forgive in the sense that I can make peace with what happened. It doesn’t change what happened or how much it affected me, and I certainly don’t forget, but that isn’t what forgiveness is. I don’t hold the rage anymore. The fact that Dean is able to is personal for Dean, as it is for me, and it isn’t some “family that is what you do” type reason.

I do experience flashbacks when there are fireworks, I can’t go to a movie theatre because of the volume, when people play really loud music in their cars I typically have to peel off into a parking lot and meditate for 20 minutes to be able to drive again. There are some stores that I don’t shop at because their music triggers me. So when Dean experiences those flashbacks, I get it.

There is a belief in the psychology that monster shows help us become comfortable with our dark sides. My dark side saved me over and over again. My dark side told me to be better than them. My dark side told me to fight for me, to adopt a survivor mindset. (If you can’t tell I am a green veined Slytherin and have never been sorted into any other house even by random house generators.) The things I delight in are a bit off color. I cultivate a poison garden, consume way too much true crime, to gore I say give me s’more and so on. Dean gets to experience his dark side, and he has to make peace with it. He makes inappropriate jokes, laughs at it, but he also does talk about it. 

This is the hard part: Just like Dean, I am also light. I love people (vomit), seriously though, they are more precious to me than any earthly possession. Plants bring me serenity. Animals are a comfort and companion in the worst of times. There isn’t much I wouldn’t do to protect living things. My motivations come from a place of love and a need to protect others from what I have been through. I know I can survive, but I don’t know if that is true for everyone else.

I know Dean. I was Dean. I see that every episode. Moments when he yells and screams for himself, I cheer him on. Moments where he tries to waste his life away, I understand, and am crying right with him. The purgatory apology guts me, I’ve had to make that apology more than once. The dead fish reaction, hell that is me at the end of a therapy session. I am here to say: Dean is not broken. Dean is strong. Dean is resilient. Dean doesn’t just fight for himself, he fights for the whole of creation. Dean is not a vase. He is a human. 

Oh and John’s taste in beer, much like my fathers, is crap. Don’t drink shitty beer. Also, I don’t drink scotch anymore. I'm a gin girl and I drink *okay* beer. 

I’m the same blogger who does drunk blogging regarding Supernatural on Saturdays. It is a lovely bit of comfort and joy for me and I won’t be stopping any time soon. We will get back to the lovely and light “Dean is Bi he he” commentary this weekend. 

[of-muppets-and-men]

Penumbra

Chapter 3: Split Horizon

I got an AO3 now, link right here.

Rukia was gifted two precious days with Katsumi after giving birth. A mere 48 hours may not seem like much, but they were everything to the new mother. No matter how tired her arms got, she never let go of her daughter. Every smile, every whimper, every little thing the newborn did sent her mother’s heart aflutter. It took an hour of convincing to finally let Isane and Yoruichi have the chance to hold her. And when they did, they understood why. 

As Katsumi snoozed in her aunties’ arms, neither of the two captains could find the words to express themselves. The little one was an angel. An angel that would tug at your hair at any given opportunity, but an angel nonetheless. Fortunately, the Seireitei was a quieter place since the Quincy war ended, meaning Isane and Yoruichi had no better place to be than here.

But alas, all good things must come to an end.

Rukia’s body had more or less healed and her swelling had come down to a point she could get away with. It was time for her to resume her life as a Shinigami. And though every fibre of her being screamed at her not to, she must leave Katsumi with Yoruichi. Isane had gone through the liberty of fetching Rukia’s shihakusho so hopefully nobody would get too suspicious. In the midst of changing, Rukia had nearly forgotten how to put the thing on, prompting Yoruichi to help her. 

But upon finishing, Rukia couldn’t keep herself from tearing up. The pain in her heart was unbearable, regardless of it was for the best. The Lady of the Shihouin led her to a secluded back entrance of the manor; out of the way of prying eyes. Katsumi still bundled up in her arms, Rukia tentatively approached the door. Her breaths shaky as well as her arms, Rukia felt a hand on her shoulder. Yoruichi stared back at her, golden eyes as forlorn as her own. 

With a deep sigh, Rukia caressed the sleeping newborn, tighter than she ever had before. This was it, the last time she would ever have any role in Katsumi’s life. She delicately placed her child in Yoruichi’s embrace and kissed her forehead. 

“I Love You…” Rukia whispered, but couldn’t see Katsumi smile as she turned away.

A hand raised to her mouth to stifle her sobs, Rukia vanished into the night.

“LORD BYAKUYA!!”

The master of House Kuchiki looked up from his notes to see where all the fuss was about. A lone attendant of his family came barreling through the door, nearly breaking it in the process. Byakuya shook his head at the young man’s stupendous lack of grace. The attendant panted heavily, trying to regain his breath after his sprint. However, his master was in no mood for such tomfoolery. His grip found his zanpakuto and pointed at the young man’s throat.

“Do you have a reason for barging into my quarters at this ungodly hour?” Byakuya interrogated.

The attendant whimpered in fear “A thousand pardons my lord, but there is something you must know.”

“Well, spit it out.” he threatened.

“It’s Lady Rukia… She’s returned.” The attendant answered, his forehead slack with sweat.

Byakuya’s eyes widened with surprise, resheathing Senbonzakura instantly. He pushed the poor young man out of the way, making a hurried march out of his office. He made his way through the winding halls of his estate, trying hard not to flash step through any walls. At last, he reached the courtyard just beyond the front door and stood before him was indeed Rukia. Byakuya slowly walked towards her, the gravel crunching beneath his feet as he made sure he wasn’t dreaming. Byakuya stopped mere feet away while Rukia gave him a reassuring smile.

“Brother. I’m home.” Rukia announced just loud enough for only him to hear.

Without even thinking, Byakuya embraced his adoptive sister, catching her off guard. The diminutive woman took a moment to process what was even happening before it clicked. She returned his embrace as he began to stroke her hair. He half-heartedly pulled away to look at her once again.

“Where on earth have you been? After so long, I had begun to fear you were dead.” 

“I know… I’m sorry brother. I should’ve notified you about where I was going…” Rukia admitted. “After Renji proposed, I needed some time to think.”

“Four months without any contact is pushing it a bit, don’t you think?” Byakuya chided.

Rukia’s eyes drooped to the floor “It’s been… turbulent for me to say the least.”

A smirk bloomed on her older brother’s face. Unlike his normally stoic demeanor, Byakuya was acting surprisingly animated; a notion that warmed her heart. He did care, even if his pride suppressed it most of the time. The head of the kuchiki led her inside, ready to give her a proper welcome.

“Would you care for something to eat?”

“Yes, Please.” Rukia beamed, practically starving after the past two days.

“Alright. I’ll notify Abarai in the morning. For now, just get some rest. You look unwell.”

Rukia swallowed a lump in her throat as her brother guided back inside. It felt like forever since she’d been here; her own home seemed so alien, so foreign. It was fairly normal for the manor to be relatively quiet, but this. This emptiness felt like it would consume her. She reckoned it would never feel the same way again; not without Katsumi. It took much of Rukia’s remaining strength to keep her hands from shaking, praying Byakuya wouldn’t ask questions.

Fortunately, Byakuya was preoccupied with getting one of the cooks to make her something to eat. His concern helped take her mind off things, at least for the moment. After just barely managing to stomach her meal, Rukia excused herself to her room to hopefully get some sleep.

But as soon as she slipped between the covers, her emotions all came flying back at her at once. Tears streamed down her cheeks and onto her pillow. Her heart ached so horribly, she grew tempted to rip out of her chest. Penance or not, this was slowly becoming too much to bear. Rukia’s pending marriage was no comfort either. She did love Renji, but not in the way he loved her.

Her eyelids grew heavy, mental and physical exhaustion catching with her. It wouldn’t be until late next morning she would awaken to the sound of a familiar voice.

“RUKIAAAA!!”

Before Rukia even had time to rub her eyes, Renji came barrelling inside without any regard for privacy. His arms entangled themselves around her petite frame alongside deep breaths. Two unavoidable and smothering hugs in pretty much the same day. Lovely. Still groggy from twelve hours of sleep, Rukia barely had the strength to let him know he was crushing her.

“Renji, you idiot. Let up already.” was all she could muster.

Loosening his grip revealed to her the tears forming in his eyes. Bumbling fool.

“Forgive me. I’m just... glad to see you’re okay. I mean, where the hell have you been? No note or anything for months. I mean what were you thinking?”

“RENJI.” She placed a hand to his cheek, appreciative of his fretting.

“Sorry.” he whispered.

“Don’t be. I know I should have said something, but I really need some time to think…” Rukia explained, being intentionally vague.

“But where did you go?” her fiance pressed “Even Kisuke didn’t know where you were.”

“Because I asked him not to look for me.” Rukia frowned as the white lie passed her lips.

Kisuke had only found out about her pregnancy by sheer happenstance, and she swore him to secrecy. Damn near threatened to kill him if he didn’t maintain her facade. Lucky for Rukia, Kisuke was well acquainted with keeping secrets. Even more lucky that Renji was an idiot.

“Well.. I guess it doesn’t matter anymore. You’re here now, safe and sound.” Renji breathed, his voice filled with relief.

Renji resumed his embrace, a notion Rukia mirrored. If only to hide away her fervent anguish. This was the path she chose; a path of lies. She hated it, hated herself, but there was no going back from here.

Two months after Rukia returned to the Kuchiki estate, she married Renji and he was absorbed into her house. It was a magnificent affair, the guest list being all of the Gotei 13. Many tears were shed; a true blessing after the accursed Quincy war. 

Booze and enough food to stuff everyone in the thirteen court guard squads. The noble house of Kuchiki spared no expense. Renji had cleaned up fairly nicely, but he was nothing in comparison to his wife.

Rukia looked divine, no soul in the Seireitei could argue differently. In any other circumstance, this would have been the happiest day of her life. But she and her two attending confidants knew better. The one person she wanted to see waiting at the end of the aisle, didn’t even know what was occuring today.

It stung, but not as much as being without her daughter. A daughter she wouldn’t see again for several years.

In that time, she would give birth to another child. Ichika, Renji’s daughter. A beautiful child with her father’s vibrant hair and spunk. Her love for Renji may have been fleeting at best, her love for Ichika was strong and true.

But… she wasn’t her Katsumi.

But an opportunity would finally arise.

Late one evening, as Acting Captain of Squad 13, Rukia had the illustrious task of filing her squad’s paperwork. With no current lieutenant, the poor woman was forced to do it all by her lonesome. She struggled through every page, her eyelids growing heavier by the second. Her saving grace, however, came in the form of a butterfly. A death butterfly to be specific.

The delicate little messenger landed on her finger and through it she heard Yoruichi’s voice.

I hear you have a little one now. As it so happens, I have one too. Perhaps we could have a playdate sometime?

Rukia’s eyes widened, fully aware of what Yoruichi was implying. And so she gave her answer.

Yes. I would like that very much.

This took longer than I wanted it too so I’m sorry if I left anyone in suspension of disbelief.

[afaithy]

12 for Takari?

OOOH GOD, I really had issues over how to write this one, but I finally managed to do it. 

I think it turned out pretty well all things considered :). I really hope you like it.

Send me ask & MasterPost

I am pregnant

“She used to say that the human heartbeat was the first music that a person heard, and that every child was born knowing the rhythm of her mother's song.”

― Kate Morton

She’d been feeling sluggish lately. It was nothing out of the ordinary and she blamed it to work since she’d been having some rough days recently. She should have seen it coming when she enlisted to help out at the ER onJou’s request. The Koushiro Incident was the cherry on top of the day. Jou had decided to save his opinions out of consideration for his old friend, but she had caught him trying to keep himself from laughing several times after the whole incident was over.

Who would have imagined that coconut oil could cause so much trouble?

Yamato and Taichi had been way too drunk to remember most of the incident, but Takeru who had been the chaperone during the bachelor party had witnessed everything and she had caught him writing something in his notebook at the hospital cafeteria later that night. He hadn’t told her what it was, but she was slightly suspicious that her dear husband was actually recounting the whole incident to use a funny story to retell in the future. Fortunately, Koushiro’s little problem had been solved with some epinephrine and steroids and they hadn’t had to lament any losses.

Still Hikari didn’t remember ever feeling this off, not even during her internship time, and those days had been the most tiring of all

“You’re not looking too hot,Yagami. You okay?” Yoshinori-san, the head nurse of the ER said. 

“Yeah...I’m feeling a little tired.”

“Tired? Well, yeah. It’s been busy lately, isn’t it?” Yoshinori-san said with a nod “But you should talk to doctor Kido. There seems to be a cold bug going around. I’ve seen a lot of people with cold symptoms coming in.”

“Yes, I don’t think it is a cold. I don’t feel feverish…” Hikari said, feeling her forehead “but I will ask Jou-senpai to be sure. Thank you, Yoshinori-san.”

 Jou was sitting in his office with a face that did not hide his exhaustion; he rested his head over the desk wondering if he could spare a couple minutes of sleep when he heard a timid knock on his door. Hikari was standing in front of the door with the same tired look that he had, holding two steaming cups in his hands.

“Oh..hey…” Jou said, fixing his glasses back in place. 

“Hey, long night, huh? I brought you something and I know, I asked for soy milk...don’t worry.” she added when Jou was about to comment. Her childhood friend smiled and accepted the cup, enjoying the comforting warmth between his fingers.

“Long... That’s an understatement…” Jou coughed “Never had I imagined I’d have to attend one of my friends in such...curious condition.”

Hikari giggled.

“And even less that that friend would be Koushiro-san.”

“Yeah...I could have expected it from Taichi or Daisuke; hey even Yamato, but Koushiro?” Jou snorted, taking the cup to his lips. He had expected coffee, but to his surprise, it was tea.” Oh, not coffee today?”

“Uh...yeah, sorry. I intended to get you coffee, but the smell just made me feel sick.”

That couldn’t be right, Jou thought. He put down the cup and looked at the woman sitting in front of him with an inquisitive look. He had known her for almost all his life, and he was well aware of her fragile health. Though it had improved considerably in the last few years, worrying and sounding an alarm at the slightest hint that she wasn’t feeling alright had become a habit of his. 

“Sick?”

“Yeah, I haven’t been feeling too well lately” she said casually. Hikari leaned on the desk and began pressing her temple. A mild headache was starting to hit her, and it was making her feel a little dizzy and lightheaded “I guess it might be fatigue. I mean, I’ve been so tired lately.”

“Well, the ER is a busy department…” Jou admitted “but still, when it comes to you...sometimes it is better to be safe.”

She somehow knew that he’d said that. Well, she’d come ready to receive an impromptu health examination from the start, so she didn’t complain.

“So...nausea?” Jou asked. 

“Yeah, pretty often lately and very sporadic.Strong smells make it worse.”

“Fever? Coughing?”

“No, normal temperature, I think?” she shrugged “I mean it's mostly fatigue, nausea, dizziness and mild headaches…”

Jou was writing down the symptoms in a notepad, when a sudden thought hit him. 

“Hikari-chan...when was your last period?”

Jou and Hikari looked at each other for a moment. SInce both of them had been working together regularly and were very professional, their expressions were serene.However, it didn’t make the silence less awkward.

“Eh...last month?” Hikari said, unsure “I can’t remember. I think I am a little late this month, but I’ve never been regular so…”

“Well, in your situation...I wouldn’t scratch the possibility. Let’s run a test, just to be sure shall we?”

The hCG test results arrived faster than Hikari had expected and Hikari suspected that Jou might have used his influences in the lab. Her friend entered the office with a stoic expression.

“So?” Hikari asked expectantly.

“Eh, yeah...I think we need to make a quick stop at imagenology, Hikari-chan.”

Hikari was speechless and for a brief moment considered pinching herself to make sure she hadn't fallen asleep in the nurses' room and was dreaming.

Jou smiled and handed her the lab result. Written in small letters  said Positive and next to the result was a scribble that Hikari recognized as Jou's handwriting: "Congratulations, you're going to be a mom!"

The events that followed this revelation were like a blur: Jo accompanied her to the imaging department, and the day's surprises (including Koushiro's unexpected visit to the ER) weren't ending.

Hikari was not only 11 weeks pregnant, but there were two small creatures growing in her womb and they both looked perfectly healthy. The girl could not contain her tears when she heard the small and rapid heartbeats of the two little ones.

“Well, look at that…” Jou grinned, as they walked back to the ER “Two little ones, huh? I can’t imagine Takeru’s face when you tell him.”

“Nor can I…” Hikari giggled, looking at the photo she was holding. A photo of her two babies.

“I can’t imagine Yamato nor Taichi’s faces either…” Jou laughed “Especially Taichi’s. I think he’s still in denial about the fact that you’re married and what that implies…”

Hikari laughed. Taichi was going to lose it and poor Takeru would be the victim, but maybe Yamato would give him a hand. She knew that once the shock had passed, Taichi would be overjoyed by the news. 

“So how are you planning to tell him?”

“I think I might have an idea…”

It was later that day, when her shift ended that she snuck into Takeru’s study and scanned the ultrasound into his laptop and set it up as his desktop image with a tiny little sticky  memo with one single sentence:Look at what we made.

She was in the kitchen when she heard the chair fall down, and patamon screeching desperately asking if his partner was ok? She simply smiled and rested her hand over her abdomen. 

From all the surprises she got that day, this was definitely the best one yet.

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As usual Here’s a chibi (sorry I can’t draw ultrasounds :P)