#now we're calling back to that fateful meeting conversation

[pttucker]

Despite the lack of time, Yoo Joonghyuk hesitated. He hesitated while holding tightly to my collar. "…We don't have to hold another funeral, right?" I smiled because of Yoo Joonghyuk's question. "Even if I die, I will rise again." "That isn't what I mean." Yoo Joonghyuk's expression was serious. A high wind blew between me and Yoo Joonghyuk. I looked at him for a moment before asking, "Do you remember the second scenario?" The subway of Oksu Station. It was where Yoo Joonghyuk first appeared after smashing everything. He was a cold-blooded regressor who would use whatever means necessary for the results. Yoo Joonghyuk's calm eyes shook at my words. Who would've known at the time? Me and this guy, we would actually end up as companions. I hadn't wanted to admit it but now I had to. The things that hadn't seemed possible became reality. I was actually going through the scenarios with him. That's why I could now say it. Just like I did when I first met him on Han River Bridge. This was the way that suited us best. "Release your hand and get lost, you damn son of a bitch."

*Screaming*

Hey guys, remember when Heewon and Dokja had that totally random conversation about dating right in the middle of the arc about figuring out who the person Dokja loves most is?

Remember how Heewon said that Dokja's the type of person to want a "fateful meeting"?

[dawndelion-winery]

I Like You! (Not)

Alhaitham × GN! Reader

College au! Academic Rivals to Lovers

[3] - Let's Break Up

You called Kunimitsu the very second you got home to scream about what a god awful horrendous day it was. Alhaitham, in spite of accepting your confession and waltzing right into the position of your boyfriend, made no effort to further include himself in classroom activities.

Even while on your little impromptu lunch date, he'd refused to speak even a word about work, deftly changing the topic back to something personal about you or your interests. If anything, it only irked you more to know that he did have sufficient social aptitude to steer a conversation but chose not to care to do so. The absolute audacity of him...now you couldn't even excuse his impoliteness with poor social skills.

You were so sick and fed up with Alhaitham, and Kunimitsu was doing nothing to help as he choked and wheezed over every detail. "Wouldn't it be funny if it turns out he's been into you all along?" your dear friend chuckled humourlessly. That? Funny? You'd have to be sick in the head for that thought to please you. Just what were you supposed to do with a rival you could barely stand suddenly becoming your boyfriend? Anyone else worming their way into your heart would've been endearing. Anyone but him. Yet, as fate would have it, Alhaitham of all people would be the one to do it.

What would you do if anyone found out? What if- and then it hit you; no one else knew yet. If you broke up with him, claiming it was a change of heart or some other impulse, it'd be like it had never happened! You giggled to yourself as you thought of how easy it would be to out an end to your plight, and soothed your anxious heart til the next day. Shooting him a text to meet you tomorrow, you fell asleep with a renewed sense of calmness, relief taking you to slumber with ease.

You told Kunimitsu of your plan as you walked to school with him. You'd expected praise for the idea, but he'd only scoffed and looked at you with a taunting smirk. Some friend he was as he raised an eyebrow and sarcastically asked if you were confident it would work.

Of course you were.

And perhaps you shouldn't have been. The moment you walked into the lecture theatre, you were met with two peculiar sights. The first: everyone was strangely chipper and energetic - a tad bit too much so for a Tuesday morning. The second? That was probably the more concerning one; Alhaitham, ever the loner, was uncharacteristically surrounded by classmates, engaging in small talk. Horrific. More dreadful yet was the way his eyes perked up at the sight of you, and he gracefully excused himself from the crowd to stride over to you.

"You wanted to talk to me?" He murmured softly, an eerie gentleness in his tone that unnerved you beyond words. You shot a quick look past him to see your peers watching with great interest as you ushered the unusually cooperative prick outside.

"Yesterday was an impulsive mistake, let's break up, Alhaitham. I don't think we'll work out. I'm sorry to jump you with a confession out of the blue like that, so let's end this before word spreads while no one knows about us." The words rumbled out of your mouth like a rushing stream, racing to reach the ocean. And precise to the analogy, its contents were lost in the depths it sought to reach.

"No," he said curtly.

"No?" You repeated, gaping slightly at his audacity. "Why not? We're not even each other's type."

"There's so many fallacies in what you've just said that it's almost too much of a hassle to pick them all out. Let's start with what you said about no one knowing - everyone knows. Or they soon will even if they don't. A sizeable crowd seemed very interested in the reason I sat right beside your usual seat all of a sudden, and I had no issue telling them about us."

The annoyance on your face slowly morphed to mild panic, but he wasn't done yet.

"Secondly, you claim we won't work out, but how do you plan to support that hypothesis? We spent half a day together yesterday, and it was quite pleasant. If anything, your theory seems rather easily disputable at the moment, wouldn't you say?"

You bit your lip as he continued listing off his rebuttal. Despite having no visible change in expression when you'd confessed, there was a subtle irritation in the faintest furrow of his brows as he reasoned why you shouldn't break up. You'd be more curious about it if you weren't so frustrated with his stubborn refusal.

"And finally, what would you know about us not being each other's type? I've never once told you my type." His last point was curt, a firm tone of finality in it as he gazed at you with those indignant eyes that only viewed solid reason with acknowledgement. Was it really that bothersome for him to be broken up with?

"My type is someone who'll adore and spoil me. Someone doting and affectionate." Your voice came out gentle, almost pleading him to understand. Were you that desperate to leave him? If anything, Alhaitham was the furthest from affectionate, so you were confident he'd back off, thinking him uncomfortable with your needs.

Contrary to your hopes and beliefs, he donned that same thoughtful look he'd had when you'd confessed. "That can be arranged," he declared, as he reached to stroke your cheek. "I'd much prefer you told me what you want from me instead of trying to break up immediately."

With that, he returned to his seat, leaving you in your state of disbelief and incredulity.

Taglist: @vernith @bubblegum-angelquartz @ayanokomu @hannya-writes

[laurensxdeath]

Fate

Emily Prentiss x reader

Emily is your soulmate, but you're convinced you aren't hers. (soulmate/soulmark au)

Thanks @ghost-rattan for helping me with this :)

When you turn 15, your soulmate's name appears on your wrist. Emily Prentiss.

You find her when you join the FBI. You're wearing long sleeves that day, so she doesn't notice her name tattooed on your wrist as you shake hands. You decide it's probably best to keep it this way for now, and you continue wearing long sleeved shirts to work everyday.

You like Emily, more than you probably should for knowing someone such a short amount of time.

It starts soon after you join the team. She welcomes you, as do the rest of the team. But with her it's different. She makes you feel like you really belong, you haven't had that before. Maybe that's why it started.

It's about after a month you've joined the team, You, Emily, JJ And Penelope are all having a girl's night. After being questioned relentlessly by Penelope about her soulmate, Emily tells everyone.

"Yes, I've met her. We've been dating for a while and just moved in together" she says, rolling her eyes. Your heart shatters. Emily was in love with someone else. To caught up in the conversation, you excuse yourself to get another drink and no one notices as you slip out of the apartment.

You just drive around in your car aimlessly for a while, thinking. You eventually end up back at your apartment. You park your car and check your phone. It had been blown up with notifications from the girls' asking where you went. You sigh before typing out a response.

JJ

Y/n/n where did you go? Call me back please, we're worried about you.

- 10:47PM

Hey JJ, sorry I wasn't feeling

well and needed to clear my head. Im alright, didn't mean to make you stress. -11:07PM

You unlock your door, tears leaking from your eyes. Frustratedly you wipe them away and go to bed. You find it difficult to sleep, just laying in bed thinking. You eventually drift off.

You wake up to your alarm buzzing. You hadn't slept much. You eat and shower, you search your closet for what to wear. As you reach for a shirt your wrist catches your eye. Emily's name. You take a deep breath, and try to forget about it. It didn't matter anyway.

You'd do what you'd always done when you caught feelings for someone, you'd distance yourself until you got over them.

At least there wasn't a case today, not that paperwork was much fun. You just didn't feel like you could think about anything else properly today.

You walk out of the elevator and Emily's the first to greet you. "Hey Y/n! You feeling alright today? JJ mentioned that's why you left early last night" you grit your teeth, not wanting to talk about it.

"Yeah, much better" she frowns as if she doesn't believe you. "You know you can talk to me?" She reaches for your hand and you don't meet her eyes. "Yeah, I know" you say as you walk away. You glance back over her shoulder and see her frowning at you. Maybe it's best you weren't near her right now.

You make your way over to Garcia's room and she greets you enthusiastically. You give her a small half smile and she questions if you're still feeling off.

"Yeah, a little" you tell her. She frowns at you. "What's the matter?" You sigh. "I'm sorry, I really don't want to talk about it right now" you tell her. She nods. "Okay but I'm here when you're ready!" You smile at her. "Thanks Pen"

You make an instant coffee, and walk back to your desk to get started. You place your earphones in to block out the world around you and manage to work undisturbed until lunch.

You feel a tap on your shoulder. You take an earphone out and turn around to see Emily. "Hey, it's lunch. Have you eaten yet?" You shake your head. "No, I've been working I'll have something later" she frowns. "work can wait a few minutes, let's go get something to eat" you want to, but remind yourself that you're trying to get over her. and the best way to do that is by avoiding her. "I'll have something later, Emily. I want to finish this" she looks sad. Can't she just ask JJ or someone? She walks away and you put your earphone back in.

She walks back in a few minutes later, puts a sandwich on your desk and goes back to her own work. You're starting to hate the butterflies she gives you.

At the end of the day you rush out to your car, hoping she won't try to talk to you again. You drive back to your apartment and immediately get changed into cooler clothes, you could finally wear short sleeves now that you're back.

You turn on the tv and watch that for a few hours. It's good to focus on something other than Emily.

You're about to get up to order takeaway, but you hear a knock at your door. You pause the tv and go to answer it. You open the door and find Emily there.

"Emily?" She smiles. "Hey Y/n/n. Can I come in?" You give a small nod and move out of the way. She gestures for you to follow her and you both sit down on the couch. You fold your arms, unconsciously keeping your tattooed wrist hidden.

"I can tell something's going on with you, you're upset about something and pushing me away. Why?" You don't answer right away, you just sit there with your arms folded while you stare at the ground. "Nothing is wrong Emily. I don't know what you hope to achieve by coming here" you tell her, but she still isn't convinced.

She reaches for your hand and her fingers gently trace against your wrist, you don't even register that it's not covered. "Y/n/n? What's this?" She's says. You freeze.

Fuck. You weren't wearing long sleeves. She'd seen her name on your wrist. You yank your hand back from her gentle grip, as you stand up and wrap your arms around yourself.

You can feel tears pooling in your eyes and you force yourself to breathe normally even though you're panicking.

"I think you should go, Emily" you don't look at her. "Y/n, look at me. Please" you feel sick. She wasn't supposed to find out. She's already met her soulmate.

Tears start to spill from your eyes and you wipe them away quickly. Emily stands in front of you and takes your hand again, but you still refuse to look at her. "Y/n/n, Look at my wrist" you meet her eyes, before looking down at her wrist.

She's removed her watch, that once covered a tattoo of her soulmark. Of your name.

Emily interlaces her fingers with yours. "You're my soulmate too, y/n" you're to confused to speak yet, didn't she have a soulmate already?

"Is this why you've been acting off lately? Why you left Garcia's that night without telling anyone? I remember you only left after we started talking about my partner" You pull your hand back and lean against the wall behind you, crossing your arms in front of you.

"I know you already have a partner Em, this doesn't have to mean anything" you tell her. You wouldn't make her choose. You shut your eyes and try to stop crying as your head rests on the wall behind you.

You only open your eyes again as you feel Emily's hand rest gently on your cheek, wiping away your tears. "Y/n/n, I'm not dating anyone. I only said that to Garcia so she'd leave the topic alone. I love you, you're my soulmate" she says, resting her forehead against yours.

You smile up at her as you lightly thread your fingers through her hair and kiss her gently.

"I love you too, Emily"

I'm still fairly new to writing, feedback is appreciated :)

[hischierdevils]

Best Years | J.M.

note: the fact that there is no marino content on this app should be a crime. this was inspired by Best Years by 5sos

summary: y/n has to leave john behind in order to follow her dreams. can they find their way back to each other?

warnings: angst, mentions of alcohol and throwing up

wc: 1.5K

You've got a million reasons to hesitate

But darlin', the future's better than yesterday

I wasted so much time on people that reminded me of you

Gave you a million reasons to walk away

Meeting John at a bar in Pittsburgh on a rare night out seemed like fate but you knew it was a temporary situation. John’s focus was on hockey, playing for the Penguins, and yours was on finishing your degree at your parents orders and getting the hell out of town. 

Hooking up with him turned into late night facetimes and texts when he was out of town. John wore his heart on his sleeve and warned you early on that he was falling for you. You told him your relationship had an expiration date, once you graduated you were gone. 

He agreed, even though it hurt him to think of you as someone temporary in his life. The day of your college graduation, he showed up in a nice suit holding a large bouquet of flowers. He cheered you on as you walked across the stage and in return, you broke up with him. 

He was devastated but you reminded him that the two of you were always going to end that way. You didn’t allow yourself to dwell on how you were feeling, you just packed your bags and moved to New York City, determined to become a dancer and prove your parents wrong. 

Things were rough at first, grinding away at two different jobs in between auditions. You were always so busy that it took a while for you to realize how much you actually missed him. Once you did, you tried filling the void with other guys that seem to resemble John in one way or another. 

He was always your biggest supporter and when you book your first Broadway show, he’s the first person you want to call. You haven’t talked to him in months and you wouldn’t blame him if he never wants to hear from you again but you find yourself calling anyway. 

Not only does he pick up the phone, but the two of you talk for hours. He just got traded to the New Jersey Devils and now lives twenty-five minutes away from you. At the end of the conversation, you agree to meet up for dinner to catch up. 

I wanna hold your hair when you drink too much

Carry you home when you cannot stand up

You did all these things for me when I was half a man for you

I wanna hold your hand while we're growing up

For the last six weeks, the two of you have been talking non-stop. You’ve gone to a couple of his games, sitting down by the ice wearing his jersey. You’re both taking things slow, easing your way back into friendship. You know you hurt him and he’s a little more guarded with his heart this time around. 

John comes to opening night with Dawson and Jack in tow. When the show is over, he finds you backstage with a large bouquet of flowers in hand. You can tell he’s nervous when you greet him with a kiss on the cheek. He’s probably thinking about the last time he brought you flowers. 

“Hey, you were amazing.” He smiles at you before handing you the flowers. “These are for you.”

“You’re the sweetest, Johnny.” You can’t help but grin as you bring the flowers to your nose to smell them. “But I was only a member of the entourage.” 

“But you were the most beautiful one up there.” He blushes as he says it, immediately thinking he’s overstepped. 

“Y/n, is your boyfriend coming to the after party?” Lylah, one of the other dancers, asks you. 

You and John talk at the same time. “Oh, he’s not my-”

“I’m here with my friends-” 

“If they're half as cute as you honey, I'd love for them to come.” Lylah winks at John before walking away and you feel a little bubble of jealousy in your gut as you turn your head to look at him. 

“If you have plans that’s okay.” You tell him. 

He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. “Do you want me there?” 

Your heart squeezes at the double meaning of his words. “Of course I do.” You’ve already messed this up once, you’re not going to push him away again. 

John, Jack, and Dawson head to the club with you and your friends to celebrate your opening night. Everyone notices that John doesn’t let go of your hand but no one mentions it since the two of you seem to be pointedly ignoring it. 

As the night progresses, the pull you feel for John gets stronger and stronger. You want him to hold you in his arms like he did before you ruined everything but you know you can’t ask that of him anymore so you drink instead. 

When you seem to be having trouble walking on your own, John calls it a night. He doesn’t want to overstep with you, but he also wants to make sure you get home safely. “Y/n, where are your keys?” He asks you as he helps you out of the bar. Jack left a little while ago with a girl so Dawson helps him hold you up. 

“Wanna go with you, Johnny.” You mumble as you rest your head on his shoulder. 

John bites his lip, debating on if he wants to go through your purse or not. He could easily take you with him to his apartment but it’ll kill him in the morning when you leave. “I’m gonna get you home, y/n.” 

You look over at Dawson with squinty eyes. “The tequila comin’ back.” Dawson barely has time to step out of the way before you’re puking on the sidewalk. John grabs your hair and uses his hand to hold it in a ponytail as your body heaves your stomach contents up. 

“It’s okay.” He whispers to you as you start to cry. “You’re okay.” He wipes the tears from your cheek with his thumb as he decides to bring you to his place. He’s not sure if your roommates are home and he doesn’t want to leave you alone in the state you’re in. 

“Mmm so sorry Daw-son.” You mumble as you fully lean into John’s side. 

“It’s alright.” He smiles at you reassuringly. “I’ve watched hockey players do keg stands. You’re fine.”

John ends up giving you a piggyback ride to where Dawson’s car is parked and he sits in the backseat with you as the three of you go to New Jersey. He gives you some of his clothes to sleep in and you manage to change into them yourself before passing out in his bed. He makes sure you’re comfortable on your side before taking his pillow and going to sleep on the couch. 

But I'll build a house out of the mess

And all the broken pieces

I'll make up for all of your tears

I'll give you the best years

The first thing you do when you wake up in the morning in a strange room with men’s clothes on is panic. You have no memory of leaving the club or flirting with any guys. Your stomach rolls with nausea at the thought of you hooking up with someone-anyone that isn’t John. He was with you last night. Did he watch you leave with someone else? He’s never going to talk to you again. 

You hear footsteps in the hallway and quickly close your eyes, not yet ready to meet whatever stranger is going to be walking through the door. 

“Y/n?” A familiar voice says your name softly as you hear the door open. “Are you awake?” 

You open your eyes to see John standing beside the bed watching you with concern. “John? Oh, god. What did I do?” You sit up quickly which seems to be a bad idea, and John quickly picks up a garbage can from the floor so you can dry heave into it. 

“Nothing happened, y/n.” He explains as he holds your hair back for you. “You were drunk and I brought you here so I knew you were alright.” 

You start crying again from his kindness. “I’m so sorry I fucked everything up between us.” You tell him. “I never meant to hurt you. You were the best thing in my life. I just had to get away from my parents and prove I could do it-” 

You start sobbing so hard that he gets in bed beside you and pulls you to his chest. “It’s alright, y/n. You told me from day one that that’s how it was going to be. I fell in love with you anyway.”

“Do you-” You hiccup. “Do you think you could love me again?” 

He smiles and kisses the top of your head. “I never stopped loving you.”

You pull your tear-stained face away from his body to look at him. “Can I be your girlfriend again?” 

He smirks because you never referred to yourself as his girlfriend before but now doesn’t seem like the right time to say that. “Of course, baby. Whatever you want to be, I'm yours.”

[one-piece-aus]

Whumptober Day 1

Uta

Lmao so we're starting off with Uta this year because I noticed October 1st is her birthday, and what better way to celebrate than to give her the first Whumpday hororororororo TW: Mention of destruction, abandonment, guilt of unconscious criminal actions, and Uta considering herself a monster

For as long as she could remember Shanks and his crew had been there for her.

Until that fateful day, the music island had been destroyed.

With the pirates being the only survivors, they fled the scene with her before the Marines arrived. Uta slept in Shanks' arms, unaware of what they were discussing.

"What do we do?" Roux asked pushing the plate of food away from him. "If the Marines found out she was the one behind this..."

The members worriedly glanced at Uta who clung onto Shanks' arm. Heavy silence only fueled the anxiety clawing in their minds.

"She might have a higher bounty than the Devil of Ohara." Hongo set the stack of bounties he had been looking through on the table.

"It's not right for kids to have bounties," Yasopp said, his arms folded and staring at the ground.

"She would've gotten a bounty eventually," Limejuice reminded the group. "We're pirates, and marines don't discriminate who to make an outlaw."

"Well, we didn't expect it this soon."

"It'll be dangerous if she stays with us."

"We can't just drop her off and leave her behind."

The last statement ceased the others from conversing further. Shanks, who had been quietly looking at his daughter, at last spoke up, "Let's head to Dawn Island."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Luffy waved goodbye to the pirates, shouting he'll meet them again someday with his own crew, when a thought wormed it's way into his mind. He dropped his arms and scratched his head in search of his memory. Did he say bye to Uta? She didn't talk to him as the crew was packing up to leave, which was weird. Uta would've been right by Shanks, teasing him before Red Hair gave the strawhat to the boy. Maybe she was already on the ship sleeping, her devil fruit did take up a lot of her energy. Luffy shrugged it off and walked back to Makino's bar.

"Makino, can I have some juice?" Luffy requested as he climbed onto a stool in front of the bar.

"Of course, Luffy." She smiled and got out a glass.

Luffy happily waited, kicking his legs back and forth, when he heard a girlish yawn behind him. He spun around, eyes going wide. "Uta?! What are you doing here!?"

"Hmm?" Uta shot him a confused look as she rubbed her eyes. "Why wouldn't I come here? I'm hungry, I want breakfast."

"Luffy-" Makino tried to explain the situation but Luffy opened his mouth first.

"BUT SHANKS LEFT! I THOUGHT YOU WERE WITH THEM!"

"He wHAT?!" Uta snapped awake not processing what he just said.

"Shanks and his crew left earlier this morning, why aren't you with them?"

Uta's face contorted to one of horror and she dashed out of the bar, unable to hear Makino calling out to her. Her little legs carried her to the docks, she glanced around in devastation at the empty port.

They left her.

They actually left her.

She thought the conversation she overheard was a bad dream. They wouldn't abandon her, right? They loved her, she loved them. So why? Why did they leave her here?

Just as the question appeared in her mind, a brief memory from Elegia's destruction popped up and for now her questions stopped. She bawled her fist as rain fell onto the ground in front of her. Luffy ran up to the docks, Uta wiped away the rain before turning to the boy wearing her dad's strawhat.

"Did-" she paused to get a hold of her emotions. "Did he say if he was coming back?"

"No, he said they won't be returning," Luffy bluntly said but quickly scrambled to fix it. "But- uh- I'm sure they'll come back for you. I mean- we can get Makino to call them and have them pick you up-"

"Don't bother." Uta brushed past him. "He's not going to come back."

Just like her world shattered. Her family, that she could fall back on, disappeared. All that remained were gaps that needed to be filled with answers explaining why they would leave her, and she had a vague idea of what they were.

As the gaps filled with her thoughts of the music island's destruction, a seed planted itself in the back of her mind.

'Monster.'

Tags: @bookandyarndragon @roseoftrafalgar

[atzfilm]

murphy’s law; (m) 3/5

wc/pairing; 20K, multi/reader

genre; a/f/s, soulmate!au, alien!au, e2f2l

summary; according to murphy’s law, everything that can go wrong will go wrong. Black holes circle each other until they collide and merge, a cataclysm so fierce, sends ripples soaring through the fabric, crossing thousands of kilometers within a fraction of a second, leaving behind a wave on the space-time continuum. That’s the simplest way you can describe meeting him. And yet, even that is an understatement.

note: please read the warnings! There are a lot of sensitive topics mentioned, even if it is just in passing. warnings under cut

masterlist

⬅️ previous  | next ➡️

content; character death mentions, alcohol/alcoholism, childhood trauma, war mentions, blood, injuries, smut: humping, fingering, soft sex, unprotected sex, no aftercare (they fall asleep), manipulation, weapons, eating mentions, sacrifice mentions.

Chapter Three:

You could physically feel your heart crumbling. Your heart beat hurt against your ribcage, the dryness of your throat as you struggled to hold back your feelings. You learned how to control your emotions when you were young; why is it so hard to do now?

His expression drops when your eyes meet his, tears threatening to roll down his cheeks. He closes his eyes, swallowing softly and taking a small breath. As if he's struggling too. His body shakes, fingers gripping the dresser with as much strength as he could muster. You hear the wood crack as his chest rises and falls, breathing picking up speed.

"Control your emotions," His words are quick, jaw clenched. "I can feel what you feel."

"Then feel it, Yeosang. Feel how you hurt me, so much," your lips tremble.

"y/n–"

"You have no right to call me by my name. Not after what you've been doing," you interrupt, moving closer to your window. You glance out, hoping there’s no one standing there. Listening to your conversation. "I don't want to talk to you about this anymore. Leave."

"Pushing me away? Again? I should have known, since this is your specialty. But before I do leave, we aren't telling anyone about this," he says. "We're keeping this to ourselves. Until we figure out what to do. Don't say a word about this to anyone. There's a lot happening around this manor daily, it would only stress them out more. We will just have to pretend that we've had an argument so that we don't have to explain the shift between us."

"No need to pretend, Yeosang. We've had the argument, and I don't particularly like you right now. If there was a way to stop it, I would've severed our connection without hesitation," You're not sure if you mean your words, but he seems to take them seriously.

He audibly swallows, a faint smile on his lips. "You sure know how to make your fated feel loved." You can feel the sarcasm in his hushed words, but it only drives you to the edge.

"You lied to me! Right now I could care less about how I make you feel. You did this to us, you've built this wall yourself and I just finished it. So don't pretend to act hurt when you've seemingly known me well enough you know how I would react."

"You don't understand. I don't want the connection severed, but it has to be done."

"Then what do you want? Because it seemed like you wanted to push me away so easily without a hint of remorse."

“I…” his voice wavers, eyes flicking to yours. “I want you to trust my judgment when I say your presence here is anything but good. But now that you’ve engraved yourself into our lives, it’s impossible to remove you. Not without hurting everyone.”

“So what are you saying Yeosang?”

“I’m saying that the only way to save everyone is if you push us away. By any means.” He closed his eyes for a moment. “I want you to break our hearts, lady.”

“I’m not doing that.”

“Lady,” his tone is forlorn, expression sunken. It hurts to look at even for a brief moment. “You know that we’re leaving. You know this, and yet you’re putting yourself through this torture. It will only be more troublesome if you let yourself attach to us further.”

“What about you? You’re not attached to me? You haven’t the slightest yearn to be by my side? Not at all?” You question, lip quivering. “Because I can barely keep myself together right now. I’m straining against my inner thoughts to embrace you.” You don’t want to admit it, you actually hate to. But there’s nothing else for you to do. You feel as if he’s pushing your thoughts to the side when you know it’s not only you who feels this way. No matter how much he tries to convince you otherwise.

"Being alone with you is the utmost dreadful experience. It's a balancing act between wanting to run away from you, and wanting to show you how much I desire you. As a human you have a set range of emotions, but as a Mav we feel that tenfold. If you ask any of your other Fates, they would say the same. Even if one in particular is reluctant to say so,” his smile is strained, eyes narrowing slightly at his words. “So hurting our hearts will push us away from you. You’ll be safe then.”

“Safe? You don’t think they’ll come after me when you leave? Try to pressure me for questions about your swift departure? You really think that?” You ask, fist tightening. “This isn’t the best course of action.”

“It’s the only course of action. And they won’t come after you because you have Commander Chan in your corner. He’d rather lay down his life than have you tortured.”

“That’s not something you should be certain of,” a voice says, interrupting the both of you. Yeosang takes a step away from you, the anguish in his expression disappearing with a blink. It scares you a bit on how quick he can hide his emotions. Though it makes sense, you hadn’t the slightest inkling that he knew you were Fated.

You turn to Yunho, his body resting against the open door as he looks between both of you. It doesn't seem that he's changed from the clothing he wore when he hunted down who tried to kill you, blood still stained against his collar. He has a playful grin on his lips, eyes flicking to yours. “Am I interrupting something?”

You often wondered how Yunho gained position as leader, he's carefree in comparison to Seonghwa. But you're sure there's something underneath the surface that you can't quite see yet.

“No, no. We were just speaking,” Yeosang says. "Did you hear much?" It’s a weighted question.

Both of your gazes focus on Yunho's. He has a questioning look in his eyes, but shakes his head. "Only the last thing you spoke of. Your private conversation is still that, private."

Yeosang nods. "We're finished then, she was just about to leave."

"Ah, was she? It seemed like you two were in deep conversation. I can come back another time," Yunho raises a brow, eyes still on yours.

“No it’s fine Yunho. He's right, I was just leaving. You can speak to Yeosang alone if you’d like,” you say, avoiding his inquisitive stare.

He chuckles dryly, "Well that's a pity. I wanted to speak to the both of you, since you are her guard now and Seonghwa has relieved himself of his duties." If you weren't looking in his direction, you wouldn't have seen Yeosang’s expression drop slightly.

"What is it?" You ask. The grin on his lips slips away as he moves into the room. He sits on the edge of your bed, pushing his blond strands from his forehead and clearing his throat.

"We found out who shot the arrows."

—

"You're telling me it was the military? Why would it be the militia when they are sworn to protect her? This doesn't make any sense to me," San says, pacing back and forth. You sit at the end of the parlor in a sole chair, head in your hands. There's nothing you can think of for solving this. They want to kill you for some odd reason, nothing you can comprehend. "It's not like we told them about our bond, so why are they targeting her? Why would they do such a thing? We killed rogue Mavs, not humans."

"It isn't the first time they used our own people against us," Mingi says softly. "They've plotted this before. Breaking us from the inside out. I'm sure they found out about the fight in the square and thought we'd just assume it was because of that that they targeted her. Luckily one of their old friends spoke up about it, or we'd never know."

Yunho nods. "It's smart. Make us look the other way, focus on Mavian rebel groups instead of humans. But I still don't understand why they would want to kill you, Lady," he narrows his eyes. "There's something we're missing."

"It doesn't matter," you mumble. All of their gazes slide to you, but you're too focused on your own words to pay any mind. "If my presence here is somehow ruining your lives, then I need to go. And whatever they want with me, they can do it while I'm not in the manor–"

"No," San interrupts. "Why would we release you from our protection while you're actively being targeted? No."

"You don't get to decide this for me, San," you glare. His gaze meets yours. Cold. Emotionless. The same look he gave you when you first saw each other. It bothers you, the solemness in his gaze. You know he's concerned about your well-being but this is your choice to make. No one else's. "I'm leaving."

"This could be best," Wooyoung murmurs. San scoffs, but he continues. "Chan wants her. Badly. He looked furious when he saw that she easily fit into the manor. He might have expected the opposite. So for her safety, it may be our most alluring option. And it will keep us out of their eyes momentarily. "

"They will never look away, not when they are suspecting something. I'm not letting her go," San says again. "I can't."

There's silence after his words. Yeosang hasn't said anything, and it seems like he doesn't plan to, his eyes cast outside. Seonghwa stands next to Yunho. He hasn't uttered a word, avoiding your gaze. You can feel San's anguish in your chest, the others' emotions hidden from you. Perhaps it's because they haven't accepted your bond. But at this moment, you don't care. You just want this heavy weight on your chest to disappear.

I’m saying that the only way to save everyone is if you push us away. By any means I want you to break our hearts, lady.

Your eyes move to him. Your heart is beating against your chest endlessly. You know they all can hear it. You know that they're expecting something from you. Anything. And despite wanting, craving… you've made your choice. If Yeosang wants you to break hearts, you'll do it.

"Okay. We can figure something out. Me leaving will be the last option," you say finally. San's face drops, relief coating his features. You give him a quick smile, ignoring everyone else. "That's my choice."

"Then so be it," Seonghwa says simply. "It's good that you're staying with us for a little longer, I will need you on a small trip into the city."

Yeosang scoffs this time, speaking up. "She almost died and you want her to frolic in the city? Isn't that against our objectives?"

“I don’t take her life lightly, Yeosang. This is why I’m telling everyone that I’m going, instead of having a secret outing and not mentioning it to others.” Seonghwa quirks his brow, Yeosang’s clenched jaw only pleasing him. “It won’t be long. Maybe a few hours at most. You know why I must bring her, it’s the only way to convince him to agree.”

“He’s right Yeosang,” Yunho says softly. “But again, you are her guard now. You can take the journey with them or–”

“It’s fine, I’ll stay behind,” Yeosang says quickly. “Seonghwa watched over her before, and I trust that he can continue to watch over her safety. I have no objections.”

“That settles it. Lady, I will see to it that you’re well enough to take the journey. San, I believe that you wanted to bring her back to her quarters? You can do that now, we have other things to discuss,” Yunho nods at you. “Have a good rest.”

-

“You seem annoyed,” San starts. You close the door behind you quietly, their soft whispers too low to make it to your ears. You don't say anything, his soft steps following close behind as you make your way back to your room. The one place where you can have a moment to yourself to think. To gather your ideas and come up with a plan to break their hearts. You already have three fated, and you don't want to find out if there's any more. Two out of three hate looking at you. A part of you wonders if San's soft gaze will turn back into a glare again. You've experienced it moments ago. It felt horrible.

"Hey Bug," San touches your elbow lightly. A shiver travels through your body as you pull your arm away from him. "I didn't mean–"

"San, I just need time to myself."

"I'd give you that if I didn't think you'd run away at the first chance you got," he says simply. You snort, rolling your eyes. "What? You've stated how you felt. You don't want to be here. I can feel what you're feeling. I know that you only said that to appease me."

"I said it because I was being stared at by all of you, and you all wanted me to decide on my fate. What if I said no, San? What would you have done to me? Could you stand there and tell me that you wouldn't have forced me to stay here?" You press, moving closer to him. He stands his ground despite the conflicting emotions in his expression. You reach up, your hand hesitating to touch his cheek. Touching is dangerous, lethal. Your thoughts are no longer your own. So, you drop your hand and step back. "Let's go back to how we were before. You hate me, and I avoid you as much as I can."

"No–"

"San, would you just listen to me for once?"

"Would you listen to me? Because all I've been doing is listening to you. Following your words, letting my thoughts get pushed back for what you want," His voice sounds tired. He rests his hand lightly on your back, guiding you into a nearby room. It looks like a storage area, boxes packed and stacked around. He locks the door, turning around to look at you.

"You could have died. Do you understand that? Do you, really?" He looks at his hands, clenching them. "I wasn't there. I was in another fucking wing of this manor. I felt it, Bug. I felt how the poison felt in your body. I felt how it spread, I felt it when you fell unconscious. I was walking through the halls and outside when I saw the archer pointing directly at the porch. I didn't register it quick enough until he shot off two arrows before scattering. Then I ran, I kept on running. The others were close behind when we finally caught up to him. Do you know what I was going to do?"

"San, you don't have to say it. It's okay, I get it," you say softly, tears welling in your eyes as you stare at him.

"I was gonna tear him apart, limb by limb. I was going to make him suffer for what he did to you. I've never felt such rage coursing through my body, Bug. I…" he takes a breath. "I was going to torture him. And even now when I think of it, I don't have a hint of remorse. The others took care of him because they didn't believe I could control myself," he laughs dryly. "It's a bit funny. They said that, and yet they seemed overjoyed to take over the job themselves. I don't want you to push me away. I don't care what anyone else has told you. We can protect you. I can protect you–"

"San," you sigh softly. "Thank you for tracking down that person. But I don't want this for you. For any of you. I don't want you to have to kill people just because I was hurt. I told you before, I don't agree with the bloodshed. And I know Mavians don't either. It is because of me that you had to kill one of your own. It makes me feel guilty," you think back, noticing how many of their clothes were still stained with the aftermath. "You'll be fine without me."

“Bug…” He moves closer to you but you put your hand up, stopping him.

“I will always value your friendship and what you’ve done to make me, make us work. But I don't think it will. You’re leaving, San. All of you are leaving, and we have to come to terms with it together.”

“We can figure it out, we just have to think.”

“I’m not letting you stay here, and I’m not coming with you. I have too many things to think about. My brother, my parents, I have a life here, San. And you have a life out there without me.”

“We can figure it out,” he insists.

“If we weren’t Fated, would you say this?” You ask, eyes staring into his. His pupils shake, moving between each of yours. “San, if you were not Fated to me, would you even care for me the slightest?”

“Bug, please--”

“Would you? Do you even know me, really?” You persist, moving closer to him. He shrinks slightly at your approach. It’s odd, seeing someone like San shrink away from you. He’s usually tougher, more built-up and serious in his approach. Seeing him like this, almost afraid of what you’ll say next, makes you hesitant. He seems to notice how you stop, rising slightly. “Do you really care for me? The real me?”

“You haven’t given me the chance to try,” he says softly. He doesn’t move to you, doesn’t invade your space whatsoever. He stands near the door, hands relaxed. “All you have done is push me away, Bug. You haven’t let me try and see who you are. Right now, I admire the person you are. How resilient you’ve been in saving your brother, how often you’ve pushed your wants aside for others. It’s something that I’ve struggled to do myself. And with your words now, I realized that I’ve been too selfish with you. I’ve pushed my feelings on you and cast yours aside. I don’t want you to think that I don’t care about your well-being because I do, whether we are Fated or not. I want us to figure this out, Bug. Together.”

You can feel the walls you’ve built up with him crumble slightly. He still doesn’t move for you, eyes stuck on yours. You can see how watery the surface of his is, the shakiness in his gaze as he waits for you to reject his offer. To push him away, one last time. You move closer to him, ignoring the worried thoughts that threaten to spill over. Instead, you let your trembling arms wrap around his torso, a low, relieved breath falling from his lips as he takes you into him and embraces you with everything you have.

“I’m not my best self, San,” you say, fingers digging into his jacket. “I don’t know how to be vulnerable with anyone.”

“Then we can figure it out together,” he murmurs into your hair, lips pressed against it. “Just don’t push me away again, okay? That’s the only way we can help each other. I’m not going to push you into anything when you’re not ready. But I will be there for you when I can. You just can’t let all of this weigh on you alone. Let me take some of it away from you, even if it’s momentarily.”

You laugh into his chest dryly, “You’re too good for me, you know that right?”

His laugh matches yours. “I do. But I do want to say something,” he pulls away from you. You look up at him, watching as he bites his lip. “I’m sorry about how I’ve been acting. I shouldn’t be angry that you have other Fates, I was just angry at how he was treating you. Seonghwa is a hard shell to crack, and putting his anger into you isn’t okay to me. But I was acting immaturely, so I’m sorry. He’s been through a lot on his own, and I shouldn’t have involved myself. I won’t do it again,” he lets his hands travel up your waist, follow the curve along your neck, and hold your face in between his hands. “I’m deeply sorry.”

“How could I refuse an apology like that?” Your brow quirks, a smile curving into your lips. He grins down at you, the dimples you love to see forming on his cheeks. “Keep on looking at me like that and I’ll forgo this waiting time.”

“I’m ready whenever you are, my little Bug,” he whispers.

A light knock on the storage door pulls you out of your bubble. San moves his hands away from your face, turning around and opening it. Wooyoung stands there, his fingers waving in a quick flutter as he meets your eyes. The mischievous grin that always rests on his lips is still there, though there is an inquisitive stare as he glances at San.

“Have you two been…?” He cocks his brow. “Doing nefarious things in our storage closet? That’s quite scandalous of you, San. You know how Yeosang likes his things free of strange substances. Though, he may be a bit curious if it was one of yours,” he giggles.

“You’re disgusting,” San rolls his eyes, words free of anger. His hand reaches out, ruffling his hair before sliding down Wooyoung’s cheek, pinching it lightly. You’ve suspected something happening between them before, but you’ve always pushed it away. It’s none of your business and never will be, but you can’t help but notice the lingering look Wooyoung gives him as he pulls away, his eyes on his fingers. San doesn’t hide his gaze either, something heavily residing in his look. But it disappears once his eyes meet yours, care replacing what you can only call lust. “What do you want, you scoundrel?”

“Scoundrel? How rude!” Wooyoung fake gasps, hand resting on his chest. His eyes move to you. “I’m supposed to guide you to Yunho’s office. Quickly, he mentioned. So unfortunately I don’t have the time to stand here and play with you. San, you are not allowed to come unfortunately. It is just a meeting between her, Yunho and Seonghwa. So,” Wooyoung moves to the side, gesturing forward. “I’ll be following you close behind.”

You glance at San. He gives you a sweet smile and affirmative nod. You nod back, taking a step forward, before picking up the pace. You hear Wooyoung whisper something to San, before following you close behind. Surprisingly, Wooyoung doesn’t say much as he’s alone with you. Vastly different from the Mav you met not too long ago, his words playful and eyes filled with malignity. He’s calmer, quieter. You don’t bother making up idle conversation either, hands resting against your chest as you make your way through the halls. Again, you wonder a bit why everyone seems to guide you around when you’re perfectly fine making the way yourself.

“It is because of the lurking danger around corners, lovebug,” Wooyoung says, answering your question. “I could tell by your face that you were wondering, don’t think too deep into it,” he adds.

“But we’re in the manor, there isn’t a possibility of an intruder,” you say. He nods slowly, not offering another explanation. So that’s it. The only words you exchange when you make it to the door of the office. You turn back to thank Wooyoung for guiding you, but he’s all but gone, leaving you in the empty hallway. You knock one before entering, glancing between the two men as you open the door. They seem to be in deep conversation, eyes stuck on one another’s. Yunho is the first to break the hold, smiling at you lightly and gesturing for you to enter.

Seonghwa picks up the conversation, not daring to meet your gaze. “We have other options, Yunho. We can’t just up and leave when they’re watching our every move. Right now isn’t a great time, and I’m not sure if in the near future it will be great either. We all must make sacrifices, Yunho. I’m sure our people will understand completely. But picking up pace right now is only a selfish venture.”

You don’t dare ask what’s going on, the conversation and air between them thick.

Yunho scoffs. "I have lived for everyone but myself, Seonghwa. My every breath was taken just so that I can live a second more to lead you all. I didn't choose this. I didn't want to lead, I never did. I took it because you weren't strong enough to do it yourself, and you would have led us down a path of misery. So don't stand there and tell me that I'm being selfish when you're the one who put your feelings above everyone else's," Yunho stops ranting, taking a slow breath as he looks away from him. "Just get our leader from the plaza and bring him back. Tell him to be in good shape to meet Chan. We don't need anything or anyone else delaying our plans."

The two of you stand there in silence as Yunho finishes his speech, sitting quietly down at his desk. He doesn't give Seonghwa a glance, flipping through papers.

"Is that what you truly think of me?" Seonghwa asks softly, fingers curling around the papers. "You considered me selfish?"

"I already dismissed you. No need to stand there and argue a mute point with me."

"No. You can't sit there and expect me to take your words as law. Because I am not selfish, Yunho. I've never been selfish, and you telling me that just makes me feel like you've valued our time as nothing," Seonghwa swallows loudly. "I was never meant to be a leader and you know that. I never had the physical or mental capabilities to do it, especially not after losing the one Mavian I loved."

Yunho stops shifting his papers, eyes still down.

"You were right in telling San that he doesn't know what death could do to you. But you don't know either. You don't know how it felt to be crouched over her body, her blood soaking my fingers. To stand there and not have the tools to save her. You don't get it. Seeing her life slowly fade as she stares at you, until there's nothing left. You haven't the slightest clue what that could do to someone. I would have never been able to lead you all to victory because I'm not even capable of saving someone I love. Thinking about it now makes me want to fall into that endless hole again. I am not selfish, Yunho. I am realistic. I never would have been a good enough leader for you all."

He bows slightly. You can see the way his eyes water, but he holds it in. "I'll see to it that Hongjoong is here by afternoon tomorrow. Have a good night, Yunho. Come with me immediately, Peacemaker," He turns on his heel, his eyes meeting yours for the briefest moment, before exiting the room. You look at Yunho, but he doesn’t give you the slightest glance. You’re not sure what to say to fix anything, so you follow Seonghwa out the door.

-

"Tonight?" You say, picking up your pace as you follow Seonghwa. He moves swiftly through the hallway, a seemingly permanent frown on his lips. Whatever happened before he told you the two of you were leaving the manor tonight must have irked him. He barely gave you a glance since you've been navigating through the hallways. He holds the front door open for you, closing it a bit harshly once you exit through. He takes out his keys, making his way around to the driver's side. He presses his finger on the glass, the car starting on its own.

"Tonight is the only time Hongjoong lingers around the town square. For the rest of the week it's a bit hard to spot him. He's often in places we can't find him. But on nights like this he enjoys liquor in a bar on the opposite side of town," he slides inside the vehicle, gesturing for you to follow.

You slowly sink into the seat, keeping your arms to yourself as you look around the car. You've never been in one yourself, besides the old bus that dropped you off. It's sleek and modern in design, a steering wheel not seen. It's a bit interesting how Mavians can enjoy luxuries like this, but can't walk above ground. A paradox, really. It’s odd that, although most of his people are living in shambles, the juxtaposition between that and the technology they’re allowed to use. You wonder a bit if it’s to stop them from rebelling, to appease the top Mavians for a moment.

"I thought none of you speak to him?"

"He's our defunct leader, whether we like it or not. The humans often ask for his presence in meetings. During those times he's always high on some new substance, or drunk. But this upcoming meeting is important. He has to look at least functional so the humans don't try to take advantage. And the meeting is tomorrow, if you were wondering."

"If this is so important, why are you bringing me? I know nothing about him–"

"As with Wooyoung, he likes new things to play with. Seeing a human female in Mavian territory is something strange to encounter, but even more so one that is Fated to more than one of us,” he says, the car lurching forward. It drives slowly into the night, taking back roads instead of the main one Yeosang and Mingi used on your adventure several days ago. “He would like to meet someone of a remarkable occurrence. Hopefully enough to motivate him to clean himself up for one morning. But when we get there, don’t speak to him much. A word here or there is fine, but I want to have you mysterious enough for him to follow what we say.”

You nod, looking out into the night. Through this path, only the headlights of the car light your way. It’s pitch black. You’ve never been frightened of the night, but the eerie silence from both the car and the lack of conversation makes a wave of fear roll through you. There’s nothing distracting your thoughts from roaming elsewhere.

Seonghwa has avoided you all this time. Especially being alone with one another. He hasn’t mentioned the Fated mark on purpose. And it’s not like you want to acknowledge it as well, you’re already struggling on your own with San and Yeosang. But feeling the pure disinterest from him makes your heart ache slightly. It’s funny; you’ve been so set on pushing San away, that you didn’t realize how it felt to be on the receiving end. It’s humbling.

“You don’t have to pretend to not have questions for me,” Seonghwa starts, finally filling the silence. “It only makes our brief presence in each other’s lives more heavy. Say what you have to say.”

“We don’t have to be anything, Seonghwa,” you say. Your words seem to take him off guard, eyes finally moving to you. “This Fated thing, whatever it is. We don’t have to force ourselves to like each other. An otherworldly presence isn’t going to make me suddenly fall in love with you. And I’m sure you feel the same.”

“... it is not that I don’t want to feel anything for you, Peacemaker. It is that I cannot, even if I desired it,” he says softly, barely heard over the low hum of the car. “I’ve had my heart torn apart, as you’ve heard from my conversation with Yunho. I don’t want that feeling again. I don’t want to care for someone to that point.”

You look at him, watch how the thought seems to push him deeper and further away from you. You’ve never wanted to take over his heart. You didn’t even want this in the first place. But you’ve seen the warmth in his gaze once, passing by as he spoke to a caretaker. He’s capable of feeling something other than dread.

“Can you tell me about her?” You ask. Seonghwa’s head whips to you, questions in your eyes. “Sometimes it’s better to talk about it then hold it in. I’m sure you haven’t had the chance to speak about her in a long time. But you don’t have to, Seonghwa. It’s just a suggestion, that’s all.”

He’s quiet.

“Ari was someone that I’ve always seen around Wysteria. She was the complete opposite of me; social and loud. She loved everyone she came across, she shined. It seemed something that would never happen, for me to even have the value of being in her presence. But she was also temperamental and irritated easily. We argued a lot, even with the Fates tying us together. But at the end of long days, we’ve always come back together with ease. She loved my presence, and I loved hers. Where I calmed her she opened me up. We were young lovers, anticipating the future of our lives, anxious to see how we’d journey through each moment with each other.

“I don’t think I’ll ever meet anyone like Ari again. She’s unique. Loved with ease. Cared without blinking. She would cry, when a creature on our planet died from natural causes. I’ve never seen such grieve strike a person like the way it did her. She crumbled and didn’t sleep right for days. It was hard to pull her out of it, but I tried. Her care was just too much for her to hold inside herself. There was a point where I couldn’t handle it on my own, but by then she’d go back to herself. I knew that it still sat on her shoulders, but she pushed it away. That was one of the things that I admired about her, but hated; she cared, but is it possible to care too much? Because if it was, she was the definition of it. Perhaps that was the moment where I realized that I might lose her soon.

“The day we lost our planet was the day we were to be joined as one. Ari insisted that she stay behind to help our people board the ships. I told her to come with me, I begged her. But there was nothing I could do. And I don’t often admit it to myself, but I hated that she cared. I hated it so much, that she wasn’t for a moment selfish in her ways. Ari was beautiful and caring, but the care took her life. I held her dying body in my hands, my fingers gripping her with all of my strength. Thinking that there was a possibility that I would be able to push it into her, give her another breath of life. But that wasn’t the case. I watched her eyes gloss over, watched as life kissed her one last time and disappeared.

He blinks finally, pulling himself out of the anguish. His lips quirk slightly.

“I miss her to the point where it’s unbearable. I often have nights of wanting to rip out my heart, wishing that I had taken her place. I cared too much. I suffer a kind of loneliness that just doesn’t go away with the thought of having another. That is why I can’t be with you, Peacemaker. And I will never be able to. Not in your lifetime and maybe many after. I apologize if that wasn’t the happy story you were looking for.”

“You isolate yourself as much as possible to reduce the amount of loss expected,” you say simply. “I know it’s easier to. And I don’t want to influence your feelings because I’m not sure if I’ll ever feel anything for you. But doing that to yourself will only be worse in the end. It’s hard for me to believe in anything, especially knowing how humans are, and how I’ve been treated my whole life. But I do believe in something. It’s going to hurt badly either way. Life is going to tear you apart, break you into pieces that you’ll struggle to put back together. But preventing yourself from creating memories to fall back on in those moments will only destroy you. At least try to give yourself something when times get tough. Make and cherish those moments, and don’t push them away.”

You look at him, “And I saw the happy in your story Seonghwa, even if you couldn’t see it. The way you speak of her. You love her, and always will. And I’m sure she knew that too when she sacrificed her life to save others. The love was there, Seonghwa. It’s unfortunate that it didn’t change anything, there were just too many things that prevented it from blossoming the way you wanted it to. But it still matters. The love was there, and the love still is.”

-

No other words were said after that. The car parked on the side and Seonghwa got out, following him close behind. He slowed down his pace compared to before though, allowing you to walk by his side. You’re a bit glad for the change, there’s the question if you’ve offended him by offering some words. But from the slight change, you’ve assumed otherwise. He still doesn’t say much to you, only words like stay close to me or don’t look too deep into that Mavian’s eyes. You’re covered in a cloak, hiding you from wandering gazes. Some give you a few questioning gazes, but not enough to realize that you’re a female and a human. You wonder if at this time of night, there are Mavian that aren’t as friendly to humans. Or if because of them killing the Mavian that struck you, they’re more wary of your presence. It’s not a stretch, only making you move slightly close to Seonghwa as he makes his way through the streets.

“He often rests between the side street of the brothel and bar,” Seonghwa says, slowing down his pace. “It’s where no one judges him, the Mavs too drunk to pay any mind to their withering leader. Never former, since everyone considers him to still be an influential part of our society. Yunho has helped his reputation a bit, telling our people that he’s still active in our leadership.”

“And they believe that?” You ask.

Seonghwa’s lips crack into a light smile, “It’s better to believe something that isn’t true than to face it head on. No one wants to think of our leader as someone incompetent. He will always be renowned as the man who saved the Mav race from dying on Wysteria. Ah, there he is.” Seonghwa gestures to a few steps on the side of the building. You see a Mavian leaning against the stones, barely conscious.

Seonghwa doesn’t bother to say anything else to you, making his way over to the Mavian. He kicks his leg once, not too hard. Just enough to wake him. The Mavian groans, eyes lifting.

“You’ve come to me,” his head rests against the cement staircase, blue eyes narrowing as they meet Seonghwa. “I told you to stay away.” His clothing is unlike any you’ve seen in the large Mav colony. Even the Mavian that roam the streets don’t seem as unkempt as him. His clothing is filled with holes, most of his torso flashing back at you in the darkness. His face is covered in scruff from lack of shaving. Hair tousled messily on his head, circle glasses resting on top of his head, filled with cracks. He would fit into your neighborhood with ease, except the large Mavian tattoos crowding his neck.

“If I had another choice I wouldn’t even speak to you again Hongjoong,” he says back, scoffing. Hongjoong, you’ve finally learned the leader’s name. “All you ever do is drink your sorrows away and pity yourself. You’re not fit to be the leader anymore, even if you were excellent before.”

“Ah,” he snorts, his stringy, blue hair blocking most of his face. It doesn’t look like it’s been trimmed in a while. “Was that a compliment between the insults?”

“Just get sober for an hour and then we can talk,” Seonghwa tosses him a towel. The old leader doesn’t even try to catch it, the fabric hitting his face. You’d laugh at the silliness of the moment, if the situation wasn’t serious. “At least make yourself look presentable. We’re meeting with the human leaders. They need to see that you’re still alive.”

“Haven’t they figured out that I have no authority anymore, Hwa?” He murmurs, sliding the towel down his face. It stains the makeup that lines his cheeks, blue streaks against his face. His gaze finally moves to you, eyebrows furrowing. “A human woman? What’s she doing with you? They aren’t allowed in our colonies.”

“You’ll get the answers to your questions when you clean yourself up,” Seonghwa grumbles. “So will you join us tomorrow morning or not? Hey!” Seonghwa reaches down, gripping his collar and shaking Hongjoong. You gasp slightly at the sight, moving back. You can see the frustration in Seonghwa’s gaze. But after spending a few silent moments with him, you can see between the anger. He cares, even if he doesn’t want to show it. “Pay attention to me, idiot! Are you coming or not?”

Hongjoong pushes his hand off lazily, “Alright, I’m going, I’m going. You shouldn’t be grabbing your leader like that, you know,” he jokes. That only seems to anger Seonghwa more. But he lets go of him roughly, kicking the can of liquor that Hongjoong reaches for. Hongjoong whines, but he ignores it. Watches as Hongjoong quickly picks up the spilling can.

“You’re a disappointment to me, Joong. You will always be a disappointment to me. But unfortunately, I don’t trust you enough to come on your own. Mingi is here to help you come back.”

You turn around, watching as Mingi appears from the dark. He smiles at you, eyes moving around yours to flick to the fallen leader. “How you doing, old capt’?” He says. There’s a hint of worry in his gaze as he watches Hongjoong swing back another can of beer, sighing lightly. “No more alcohol tonight, we have a big day tomorrow. Need you sober for it.”

“Agh, you wound me Mingi,” Hongjoong says, clenching his chest in mock agony. “I can function without it. Just one more drink for the night?”

Mingi frowns. “One.”

Seonghwa tugs on your arm, pulling you away from the scene. You look up at his face as he guides you through the streets, tugging your hood a bit roughly over your face. You don’t say anything to him, letting him hold you tight as he pulls you back to the car. There’s nothing you can say; you didn’t expect the former Mavian leader meeting to be so somber, but Seonghwa warned you. He wasn’t as he once was. There was an aura of defeat around him, failure reeking from his body as he sat on the steps. It reminded you of nights when you were younger, caring for your fallen mother or father as they came back from long days of working. Until they’ve drunk themselves down to the point where they couldn’t stand.

“Papa, come on,” you uttered, tugging on his heavy body. You couldn’t have been more than eight years old at the time, watching as your father drank himself asleep. You hid it away from Jongho’s gaze, knowing it would hurt him to see his parents so down. You pulled and pulled, desperate for him to get off the streets and into your shack.

“You’re… take… of us. Forever,” your father said through quick murmurs. It was too low and indistinguishable for you to understand. But it happened every night. He’d profess that he’d do better, that you will be okay. That he’d take on more jobs and time to get you out of the slums. But it was to no avail. You’ve grown to realize that your parents let luxuries stop your family from moving forward, caring too much about material things rather than survival. But there you were, a young girl desperately pulling your father into your home.

Wondering if there was something wrong with you, to be born into a family like that. To have parents care so little for your well-being. To force you, the oldest sibling, to have the weight of daily survival on your shoulders.

From that, you can see how Seonghwa felt. Watching the Mavian leader succumb to alcohol. You just hope that this time it isn’t too late. Because unlike your parents, you could see hope from that brief interaction between the both of them. Hongjoong cared for his people, for Seonghwa and Mingi. He just needed a push.

You two make it back to the car, still saying nothing to one another. Seonghwa slams his door rather harshly again, the sound echoing in the night. You wonder if the Fates knew how similar the both of you are. You’ve experienced the loss of your parents, only shells that rested in the shack back home. Seonghwa experienced the loss of his love, his leader. It was so odd, how similar you were. You haven’t entirely repaired yourself enough to consider being happy, and you’re sure Seonghwa doesn’t even want to start. Is it a joke, matching the two of you together this way? Have the Fates seen how broken the two of you were, and thought it’d be humorous to pair you up?

How cruel the world could be.

-

“He is here, do with him as you will,” Seonghwa walks up the steps, eyes forward as he passes Yunho. “I wish you luck. He was barely awake when I found him on the back steps of the bar.” He disappears into the front door, leaving you alone with Yunho. Said man sighs, watching as Mingi pulls Hongjoong up the path from his car.

“You’ve done well, Peacemaker,” Yunho says, nodding at you slightly. “You can rest now, no need for one of us to guide you to your quarters. And I apologize for being overly cautious, we can’t be too sure when the military is out there trying to kill you.” He says sympathetically. “Thank you again.”

“I’ve done nothing but show my face,” you say. “No need to thank me for that.”

“It was enough to convince Hongjoong to get off his stoop. Seonghwa has been there plenty of times with no luck, so your presence must have intrigued him enough to move. It was the only unique thing after several attempts.”

“Will seeing Hongjoong changes things?” You ask Yunho.

He purses his lips. “Maybe. Chan is a very fickle individual. He could be surprised, or he could be expecting it. I hope he is shocked at least a bit. It’ll give us an advantage in the strategic meeting. And unfortunately, he wants to see you,” Yunho looks at you with sympathy. “I’ve told him to make sure he brings with him Jongho’s communication letters, because we have yet to receive one. He agreed, in exchange for seeing you again. I’m sorry I didn’t get the chance to tell you.”

“No, this is good. It gives me something of my brother. I’m worried about him,” you say softly, watching as Hongjoong stumbles over the loose pebbles. Mingi sighs as he looks down at him, picking the former leader up with ease. “Thank you for adding that in, Yunho. Really.” You touch his arm lightly out of instinct, pulling back immediately.

Yunho blinks quickly, eyebrows furrowing as they meet your gaze. The polite look that he always has is immediately filled with awe, and a bit of fear. His mouth parts as he takes a slight step to you, but you move back quickly. No. It couldn’t be–

“Peacemaker?” he utters. You move around him, making your way through the front door. “Wait, Lady!”

“I wish you a good night!” You shout back, moving through the hallways. Caretakers try to stop you, but you ignore all of them, pushing your way through. You hit a solid body as you turn a corner, the both of you falling to the floor. Your head almost hits the mahogany, but his hand stops you, hitting it instead. You try to push off of him, but he grasps your forearms, holding you steadily against him.

Yeosang looks up at you, confusion in his eyes as he stares at your teary ones. “What’s the matter?”

“Yunho… I, he…” You can barely speak, lips trembling. He lets go of your forearms, letting you get off of him. You pace back and forth, trying your best to gather your thoughts. He doesn’t give you a chance to, pulling you along and into his room, shutting the door quickly. He gestures for you to sit at his side table, resting on the chair next to it as you make your way there.

You sit down slowly, letting your head rest in your hands. “He’s one of the Fated, Yeosang,” you finally utter. “I touched his arm out of habit, and I felt it. I felt the same thing I felt with the three of you. He is one of them, Yeosang. And I don’t know what to do about it.”

A defeated sigh falls from his lips. “It is as I thought.”

Your head whips up, eyes meeting his. He looks resolute, his gaze tired. “What did you think, Yeosang?”

“All of it made no sense in the beginning. After Seonghwa, I suspected it but you’ve finally confirmed it with this. y/n…”

“Don’t say it,” you say, stopping him in his tracks.

“We need to talk about it.”

“We don’t. Not now, at least. Not now. We have bigger things to worry about, especially with Hongjoong and Chan tomorrow. I’ve just overreacted, it could have been a sting, maybe. Nothing would come of it, I assure you,” you say to him, although it felt as if you were trying to convince yourself. “I’ll leave like you said, and we wouldn’t have to worry about any of this.”

“But if he is a Fated–"

“He isn’t!” You say a bit loudly, eyes narrowing at him. “He can’t be, okay? He can’t be, Yeosang.”

He raises his hands up in surrender. “Alright. And as you’ve said, it doesn’t matter right now. Nothing does, since you’ll be leaving soon.” His eyes move to the floor. “I wanted to talk to you about something before you told me this news. I know you’d be leaving soon, so I thought it’d be in our best interests if we explored the options.”

“Options?” you ask.

You’ve rarely noticed Yeosang’s change of emotions. He’s often silent in the presence of others, but open in private. And right now, there’s a hint of curiosity in his gaze as his eyes stare into yours. He swallows, and you watch as his apple slowly slides at the motion, staring back at you.

“I wish time had better timing for you and me,” he admits softly. “Then I would have cherished you with every fiber of my being, loved you with every breath.”

“You told me that it wasn’t ever possible,” you say.

“And I didn’t lie.”

“Then what did you want to ask?”

“Can we pretend for a brief moment, that our love wasn’t an impossibility?” He spreads his legs a bit, as if waiting for you to come in between them, to rest on his thighs. And you, being the fool you are, take it in stride. You slowly stand, pushing away your thoughts of anxiety at the thought of tomorrow. Letting yourself relish in this brief moment. His lines on his forehead relax once you rest yourself on top of his legs, body towards him, your legs resting on either side of his.

You press your lips lightly against his temple, just above his birthmark. His skin is as soft as his gaze, his eyelids brushing delicately against his cheeks. You pull back, gliding your fingers through his black locks. His gaze moves to you in wonder, eyes scanning your face. Before you can pull back completely, his hand pushes against your back, preventing you from moving back further. His other hand slides up the curve of your body, before resting just underneath the back of your hairline.

"Don't do that and expect me to just sit here quietly," he murmurs. Without warning, he pulls you into him, a low gasp falling from his lips as your mouth meets his. Instead of the frantic passion you expected, he was slow and deliberate. His tongue sliding against yours with tender care, fingers digging into your neck. Both of you know this will be the last time you’d ever do something like this again. Your hands slip underneath his loose shirt, dragging along the defined muscles that hid beneath the fabric. He lifted his hands from your head, pulling away from you as you lifted the shirt over his head. He barely gave you a chance to admire his chest, pulling your body against him as he stands. You wrapped your legs around his body, your back hitting his sheets softly. He climbed on top of you, fingers shaking as they touched your hips. You let your fingers curl into his, his trembling subsiding.

“It’s okay to let go, Yeosang,” you whisper against his shoulder. His fingers tighten against yours, his forehead resting on yours. His eyes look into yours. For a moment, you can feel the surreal bond that you two have and pushed aside. Your heart beats against your chest, breaths mingled together as you sit there for a moment.

“You make it seem so easy,” he murmurs, pulling his fingers out of yours. His hands linger on your hips, slowly pulling them down your legs. They catch the lining of your underwear. He hooks his index fingers on the fabric, gliding it down as well. He rocks his hips against yours, your pants falling to the side of the bed. “Can I touch you?”

“Yes,” you breathe, his fingers slowly making their way between your legs. He cups you, middle finger disappearing between your folds. He finds your clit with ease, rubbing it lightly. You gasp, hands gripping his shoulders as he rubs slowly. He pulls away before you can reach your peak, moving off the bed and pulling down his pants, dropping them next to yours. Your eyes flick to the tattoo resting on his waist, a flower you can’t name low on his left hip, the stem curving around his thigh, disappearing behind it. You don’t get the chance to observe further, his hand stroking his cock slowly.

He keeps his dark eyes on yours, fingers rubbing the tip lightly. A soft y/n falls from his lips as his lids flutter, his strokes increasing quickly. He stops himself, moving back on the bed. His fingers enter you quickly, two at once. You moan lightly, the tips curling into you with ease, the wet sounds of your arousal filling the silence. His thumb rubs your clit quickly, his eyes still on yours, biting his lip as he watches you come undone on his hand.

“Yeosang--” you muster through gasps, gripping his wrist. “I’m gonna…”

“Look at me, y/n,” he says your name with the utmost warmth, thumb moving quicker as you tighten against his fingers, moaning as you shudder, coming against his hand. He slows down his pace, stopping when you whine softly. He lifts his fingers to his tongue, sucking on them as he meets your gaze. “Can’t wait to be inside you,” he grins.

He moves above you, lining his cock with you. You see the scars lining his chest, matching the rope scars on his wrists. You look at them, suddenly aware of how you look right now in his eyes. But his gaze is only filled with wonder as he looks down at you. He presses his lips against yours, lifting your shirt up with ease. His eyes flick across your torso, lightly pecking each scar he sees. You feel tears welling in your eyes as he touches them with the utmost care, his fingers tracing them lightly.

“You’re beautiful, y/n,” he murmurs, rubbing his cock against your folds. You tremble each time it rubs against your clit, the anticipation making your heartbeat feel as if it’ll escape your ribcage. “Let me see how pretty you can be.”

He pushes into you, your moans matching as he moves in slowly. His lips suck lightly on your neck as his cock stretches your walls. Your hands wrapped around his neck, lips pecking his shoulder as he moved into you with ease.

You wonder if you ever knew desire before this, his fingers tight against your hips as he rocked into you slowly. Cherishing every moment your hips met one another’s, your skins touching like a soft kiss. Flimsy promises to one another that wouldn’t be met. His soft gasps each time you squeezed his cock, rewarded with a quick stroke. The greatest moment of intimacy wasn’t the way he felt in you. It was the way he touched you delicately, with as much care as he could muster, with what you could see in his eyes as love and affection. As his fingers wiped the tears falling from your eyes, swallowing the moans with the deep stroke of his tongue, the soft whimpers of his love as he pushed deeper and deeper into you.

His shuddering hips quickened, strokes harder and quicker than before. You moaned, your legs trembling as you came on his cock, and a few quick strokes later, he came inside you, filling you with his warmth. He kept his cock in you as he rolled to the side, pulling you against his chest. He wraps his arms around you, pressing you as close as possible. In ordinary circumstances, you’d push away and insist that you’d shower. But you don’t want to move, don’t want to think about what happens after this.

“Thank you,” Yeosang says against your skin. “Thank you for making me feel like it’s okay to love you for one night.”

-

The morning comes quickly, a quiet walk to your room and quick shower in the morning erasing what happened last night. Yeosang watched you leave, not uttering a word as your eyes met when you left him alone on the bed. You didn’t move all night surprisingly, his cum dried and gross inside of you. You wash it away quickly that morning, tugging on your military regalia that you arrived in to meet the others in Yunho’s office. Mingi is there to escort you this morning, resting outside your door, his fingers resting against his gun as he watches you exit the room. His eyebrows furrow once they meet yours, and you worry that Yunho must have said something to him last night.

“Did you sleep in Yeosang’s room last night?” he asked. “I noticed you running from it earlier this morning.”

“Ah, I didn’t think anyone saw,” you admit. He chuckles dryly.

“I’m his neighbor, it’s a bit hard not to,” Mingi says, holding out his arm for you to hold. You pretend to not see, clearing your throat quickly. He drops his arm, confusion still in his gaze. He doesn’t get the chance to question you as you make your way forward, following next to you through the hallways. “Chan isn’t here yet, there’s no need to rush.”

“He’s not?”

“Nope,” he makes a popping sound with the ‘p’, “We’re going to the dining hall first so,” he blocks the right path to Yunho’s office, gesturing for you to turn right. “I’d be scolded if you didn’t eat anything this morning.”

You roll your eyes, but follow his path. Mingi is always talkative, speaking about how he wrangled Hongjoong into bed, having to clean him up in the morning when he took a shower. You can imagine it, Mingi slipping in the wet floors of the bathroom as Hongjoong took his time washing.

“He’s in the dining room right now,” Mingi says. You stop walking, his eyebrows furrowing. “What’s wrong?”

“I’d rather not be in the same room as him, no offense Mingi,” you say. “He reminds me too much of my parents.” You thought that his presence wouldn’t bother you, but the thought of having to pretend that you were fine as he sat across from you is something you don’t like. And you don’t blame Mingi; he doesn’t know your past with your parents. None of them do. But that glimpse of Hongjoong sitting on the ground, desperate for another drink, only made you want to crawl into yourself. Throwing you back into memories you thought you were over. “I’m sorry if this inconveniences you.”

“Ah, no it’s fine,” Mingi says quickly, waving you off. You thank him for understanding without prying further. “Wait here, I’ll kick him out so you can eat.”

He completely understood, just the wrong way. “No, he can stay I can just skip–”

“No need to skip breakfast when I’m already finished,” you turn, seeing Hongjoong stand there. He wears a suit, except the tie and vest are gone. He pushes his wet hair away from his face, eyes flicking between yours. “You can take your time, peacemaker,” a teasing smile coats his lips. If you didn’t see him hunched over last night, you wouldn’t have suspected anything off. He scratches the back of his neck, gesturing you forward. “We’ll talk about your strange appearance in Mavian territory soon enough. Seonghwa would be furious that I’d question you without him around. A bit of his controlling side, I think.”

“Don’t speak of him that way,” Mingi says, frowning. “Yunho is waiting for you in his office. We’ll be there when Chan comes.” He shrugs, turning on his heels and walking off. You let out a breath, rubbing your face. Mingi smiles at you understandingly, “I’m sorry about him. If I knew, I wouldn’t have gone to the dining room. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize to me Mingi, it’s okay,” you say, entering the room. Plates of fruits and other things are sitting on the table as you rest in one of the chairs, taking a plate. Mingi sits next to you, grabbing a few fruits and munching on them silently. “So, you’re letting Hongjoong walk around the manor without someone following him around.”

He nods, “Hongjoong many be an incompetent leader, but he knows his boundaries. Yunho has taken charge of this manor and he will always be a guest. But they both come to an agreement. Hongjoong with appear when he needs to appease the humans, but Yunho will be in charge of everything else. It brings harmony; Hongjoong doesn’t have to make official decisions and Yunho doesn’t have to declare himself as the true leader to Mav. It benefits both of them in the end.”

“But why doesn’t Yunho take his place officially?” You ask.

Mingi eats a strawberry, hesitating. “It’s complicated. Our people aren't yet ready to see a change in leadership. Sure, they've accepted Yunho's position. But a lot haven't given up on Hongjoong, even if he's given up on himself. But I’m not supposed to say anything to you about Hongjoong and his past. Not up to me to divulge any juicy information.”

“Thanks anyway, that was enough,” you take a bite of dry toast, glancing out the window. You’ve gotten a bit used to the night, although you did crave the sun sometimes. The warmth of it, the bright lights. You did notice that your time spent out of it made you paler, your eyebags deeper against your skin. But you were healthier than you were before, three meals a day and snacks if necessary. They made sure that you ate too, encouraging you despite your lack of an appetite. A part of you thinks it’s because of Jongho, his health state unknown, that makes you feel guilty for indulging in what they give you. You just hope that this morning, Chan has the letters from your brother. So that you’d have the slightest inkling if he was doing well on his own.

Mingi glances at the clock, wiping his fingers with a napkin and clearing his throat. You like being in his presence, he did fill the silence when need be, and remained silent when he deemed it necessary. Mingi has been a comforting presence since you’ve arrived, the anger from the first meeting disappearing quickly. He reminded you a bit of your brother; headstrong and humorous, helping whenever you were down. If you stayed longer than you planned, you would consider him a friend.

“Chan should be arriving soon. We should get going. If you want you can grab some extra things to dine on as we walk,” he gestures to the table, but you shake your head, cleaning off your fingers with the hand wipes and standing up. You both leave, quickly bowing to the caretakers that come in and clean up after you.

Mingi doesn’t fill the silence this time, sticking close to you as you walk up the steps to Yunho’s office. He’s covered from head to toe in a thick leather, gloves as well. Before you make it to Yunho’s door, he stops, tugging on your sleeve lightly.

“I have to warn you,” Mingi says softly, eyes flicking to the closed doors. “Yunho has been a bit off since last night. He hasn’t said a word to me, which is odd since he often vents his frustrations with me. But you might notice how he isn’t as cheerful as he usually is. Whatever happened at night must have bothered him enough into this early in the morning,” Mingi sighs. “I’m sure he hasn’t slept either, with the ruckus that Hongjoong brings. Just, don’t take his harsh words to heart, alright? He doesn’t mean any of it.”

You’re reminded of last night, how you ran away and into the arm’s of Yeosang. How Yunho looked at you. It was unlike the others, there was no fear in his gaze. Shock maybe, but he wasn’t afraid. After last night’s events you completely let it slip your mind. And now here you are, steps away from his fury at what happened. Mingi tugs you forward, his gloved hand encasing yours. You look at his in shock, and he gives you a quick smile.

“You’ll be okay,” he says simply, guiding you forward. He gives your hand a quick squeeze before opening the door, letting your hands part. The door creaks slightly as it opens. You see Yunho writing something, Seonghwa on the opposite side of the room reading a novel. Yeosang stands next to his desk, Wooyoung resting on the window seat, his leg swinging. San’s eyes meet yours, a smile on his lips. But your gaze is focused on Yunho’s. He glances up, eyes flicking between you and Mingi. It settles on yours for a moment, before clearing his throat.

“Chan is arriving soon. The peacemaker can sit next to Wooyoung, while the rest of us keep an eye on Chan. Ah, Hongjoong,” his eyes move to the side of you. You turn, seeing Hongjoong sit leisurely in the cushions. He rubs his forehead, blinking slowly. “At least make yourself look awake and ready. I can’t have you sleeping on the job.”

“Aye aye capt’,” Hongjoong chuckles, leaning up slowly. You make your way around the others, Wooyoung dropping his legs so you can sit next to him. He’s dressed casually like he always is, except his neckline isn’t all the way down to his button. You can tell he just threw his outfit together, tie loose on his neck. He leans in close to you, cupping his mouth as he moves to your ear.

“Didn’t know Yeo could make those kind of sounds,” He murmurs, your head turning to him quick. He wiggles his brows, nudging you slightly. “Next time ask me to join in on the fun, yea?”

“Alright, he’s here,” Yunho stands up quick. Hongjoong slowly stands, stretching out his arms as the office door opens, with Mingi’s assistance. You straighten up, preparing yourself to greet the man you hate to see. Chan slides into the room with ease, unaccompanied by guards. He shakes Yunho’s hand firmly, his loud voice echoing around the room to greet everyone. Yunho nods at him, frowning slightly when he looks behind Chan.

“I thought you said it’d only be you,” Yunho says. “We didn’t prepare for additional guests.”

“I thought that my peacemaker would enjoy this guest,” Chan’s lips rest in a teasing grin, moving out the way for you to see. “Consider him as a token of my appreciation for keeping her relatively out of harm’s way.”

Your eyes move to the man that walks from behind him. His clothing is clean, the same uniform you wore when you first entered the underground. His wide eyes look around the room, taking in the unfamiliar faces. His expression is tense, until it lands on you. His furrowed brows relax, a smile forming on his lips. You waste no time, pushing past everyone in the room and into his arms. He relaxes in your hold, your body shaking with relief as you take him in. Your fingers dig into his brown hair, pulling him as deep into your hold as you can.

“I’m so happy you’re okay,” you tell him softly, pulling away slightly to look at him. He’s grown taller since you’ve last seen him, you look slightly up at him. You hold your face in his hands, eyes flicking between his. He doesn’t look hurt at all, face free of any cuts or bruises. The sunken, hollow cheeks that you were used to holding were vibrate, skin clear of dirt and grime. “You look good, Jongho.”

“I’m happy you’re okay, y– Ladybug,” he almost slips up with your name, glancing at Chan. “He told me about your leg,” he glances down at said leg, frowning. “Why the hell are people trying to kill you? Did you really piss someone else off? You told me you’d try to stay safe.”

“And I am, Jongho. But we’ll talk about that later. Why didn’t you answer any of my letters?”

This time confusion covers his expression. “Letters?”

“Ah, we’ll wrap up this for now, yea?” Chan says, stepping closer to the two of you. You back up, moving your body in front of Jongho’s slightly. It’s an instinct of yours, one that doesn’t go away anymore. Chan cocks his head to the side at your protective stance, nodding slowly. “We should be speaking about strategy. Reunions can be saved for after you come with me. Our engagement has been delayed long enough, hasn’t it?”

You say nothing, not moving from Jongho’s side. Hongjoong clears his throat, clapping his hands to interrupt the awkward atmosphere. Yunho’s gaze moves to his, expression speaking to him without uttering a word. But he ignores it, tucking his hands in his long coat pockets, looking at Chan. “So you’re the commander. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” he holds out his hand, “I’m Captain Hongjoong of the last Wysteria ship. The one that your people decided to destroy and take for parts, that is.” He holds a smile on his lips, but you can see the irritation between his words.

Chan takes his hand, shaking once before letting go. “I never thought I’d ever see you around, Captain. Frankly, I’ve heard a lot of negative things about you. Addicted to alcohol, never leaving that shabby Mav bar. Ignoring the pleas of your people to help them with their issues. A disappointment. Just a few of the complaints.”

Hongjoong doesn’t seem phased by his words, shrugging. “I’ve been called many things. A drunk is seemingly minor in comparison to everything else.” He stretches out his neck. “Nevertheless, I could care less frankly, about your human problems. We have bigger issues to handle, yes?” he glances at Yunho. “Yunho has told me that you’ve threatened to terminate our colony because there is no clear leader in sight, and the one that humans acknowledge has yet to appear. So, here I am,” he gestures to himself, spinning slowly on his heels. Yunho doesn’t bother hiding his dismay of Hongjoong’s gestures. It would poke anyone in charge, the lack of respect and dignity. You’ve known Chan for a while, and he hates to be made a fool.

You look at Chan, his jaw clenched as he watches Hongjoong spin. You tug Jongho closer to you as he’s distracted with the leader’s antics, pulling him into the corner with Wooyoung. Said Mavian watches the both of you, nodding at you lightly as you look at him. You don’t have to say the words and you thank him for that, Wooyoung motioning to Mingi to stand on the opposite side of Jongho.

Now that you have your brother, nothing is tying you to the surface. To Chan. Not even your parents, who you’re a bit curious about. But that’s a later worry. Now, you stand there as Hongjoong, Yunho, and Chan speak.

“We just needed confirmation that you’re alive and well. I can see that you’re alive. But well,” Chan laughs. “You’re but a fool. I’ll have to discuss this with my superiors to see how we should handle this situation. As I can see from your words and actions, you don’t take your role seriously.”

Hongjoong’s carefree smile slips away insanity, his expression hardened. “You’re only a henchman in the scheme of things. I have no need of trying to convince you how good of a leader I am. And neither does Yunho. Are you afraid that because I don’t kiss your ass, you can hold anything against us? We aren’t afraid of humans, Commander. The opposite, in fact.” He chuckles dryly, rocking on his heels. “You’ve forced a population of caring Mav underground, beneath millions of humans that reside just above. Did you expect us to just follow every rule that you’ve laid out? To wallow in our sorrows for centuries until the last of us breathe our dying breath on this wasteland you call Mavian territory? Are you that naïve? That dim?”

“Hongjoong, please mind your words,” Yunho says quickly, eyes flicking to Chan. “I apologize for his insults. He wasn't ill-minded, just worried for the survival of our people. That is all.”

“He isn’t sorry for his words, Yunho. No need to apologize for him,” Chan moves forward, their eyes leveling with one another’s. “Is that a threat, Captain?”

“Not a threat, Commander. A promise. We don’t take kindly to you attacking one of ours, you see. We promised peace, unless there is a breach of trust,” Hongjoong’s eyes flick to yours. “Yes, I’ve been in the dark on several important events recently. But I am anything but a fool. I just have a question for you. Why would you raise an arrow to a woman that you’re engaged to?” He raises a brow.

Chan raises his brows, eyes in shock. “Why would I do such a thing?”

“Don’t feign innocence, Chan,” San says. “We caught the Mavian who attempted to kill our Peacemaker. One thing we Mavian do is tell secrets. We know that you hired a small group to come and attack the manor. Unfortunately, you underestimated our abilities. So you’ve either made a mistake, or you want us to find the arrow that has your last name carved into its stem.” San holds up the arrow that injured Seonghwa and yourself, balancing it between your fingers.

Jongho hasn’t said much since he was silenced, but you can hear a low breath fall from his lips. You clench your fists, holding in your anger. San looks back at you, nodding slightly. You know that your Fates can feel how you feel. It’s an invasion of privacy at times but right now, it calms you a bit. Knowing that at least four Mavian in the room could tell how all of this is putting you on edge.

“I don’t have time to be put on trial by any of you. If any of your fingers touch my skin in the slightest, the military will swarm this manor and kill every Mavian inside. And I’m sure you care more about your people than a silly human that I’ve planted to spy on you all for me,” his gaze moves to you. “It’s time to go, peacemaker. You’ve spent plenty of time down here, entertaining these creatures. You’ll be much safer where your kind are.”

You don’t move, even as Chan takes a step to you.

“I told you Chan. I would only go with you if I wanted. But I don’t want to, okay? You gave me that choice.”

Seonghwa has somehow made it across the room, his hand resting on his cloaked knife strapped to his thigh. Chan scoffs, eyes moving between you and him. “Have you threatened her? Touched her and put one of your silly spells on her so that she trusts you?”

"We wouldn't lay a hand on her if she didn't desire it," Seonghwa says, eyes narrowing. "What other lies have you been telling? She does not want you, Commander. She has chosen to stay here with us."

"With Mavian? You disgusting parasites seem to only burden us. Why would she want to stay here?" Chan notices the way you move closer to Seonghwa, your hand wrapped around his sleeve. As if you're stopping him from moving further. "Oh? Have you already sullied her? Were you so in need of a female mate that you fucked the first one you saw?"

A low rumble from the opposite side of the room makes you turn. San’s eyes are narrowed into slits as he stares at Chan. “Speak of her with respect, Commander.”

“Respect? Respect?” He laughs dryly. “She’s barely out of the slums. Only takes showers when she can, feeds on scraps left from the brothels she worked at. Why would a commander like myself even give her the least bit of respect?”

“As San has said, watch your words commander,” this time, Yunho speaks up. He’s not one to project his feelings but you can see how his eyes burn amber, his anger barely coming to the surface. “You’ve placed her in our care. She is a part of this manor, and we all treat each other with care and kindness. If she desires to stay behind, then we should accept those wishes.”

Chan shrugs, hands slowly reaching for his cellphone. He presses the first number on the speed dial, placing it on speaker.

Yes, commander.

“Weapons on stand-by. Fire on my command.”

“Chan, what are you doing?” You say, stepping forward. Seonghwa holds you back, his glare frightening. “Stop this, just stop.”

“Stop what? I told you before Lady. I get things that I want. If I have to take extreme measures to do so, then I must.”

“You can’t do all of this over me–!”

“But I can,” he says simply. “I told you I will have you. And why wouldn’t I kill them? They touched you without your permission, their rebel groups almost killed you. You were barely standing when I got here. I brought Jongho here, thinking that they’d take pity on you, seeing you reunite with your brother. But instead, you surrounded me with your whole main clan. Even bringing the former leader to threaten me into submission. What else could I do but kill them all to prevent their ideals from reaching other Mav? Their deaths would be justified. I wouldn’t be suspected of anything but desperation and a need to help another human. I would be rewarded for stopping another Mavian invasion. Everyone will worship the ground I walk on,” his smile grew wide as he talked, eerie against his face as he stared at you, his eyes wild. “And I will have you at my side.”

“You’re deranged,” Mingi lets out, eyebrows furrowed. His lips form into a straight line. “You are completely out of your mind.”

“Am I?” Chan purses his lips. “Why don’t we see how deranged I can get?” He glances down at his phone, “Arm weaponry. Aim on the count of three. Fire when commanded.”

Affirmative.

“Stop this Chan!” You cry out. “We can figure this out.”

“Three,” he starts, a smile still on his lips.

“Chan!”

“Two…” he drags it out a bit, reveling in it. “One…”

“I’ll go with you!” You finally say.

“Disengage,” Chan says finally, “I’ll call you back if needed.” he ends the call, tucking his phone back into his pocket. He laughs loudly, pushing his hair away from his face. “Now that was easy, wasn’t it?”

“You can’t go with him,” Seonghwa hisses, staring down at you. Completely disregarding Chan standing on the opposite side of the room. “Are you the one we should be worried about? You must be mad if you think that we’d just give you to him.”

“You said it was my choice, Hwa,” you let the nickname slip. It doesn’t phase him, his eyes still sharp as they meet yours. “And this is my choice. I’ll go with him. I’m not going to let any of you die just because I want to be here. That’ll be selfish of me, won't it?”

“Please reconsider,” Mingi says softly from behind you. “We… you’ve become a pivotal part of our lives, Lady. Seeing you in a place you will suffer will only torment us all.”

“It seems like you need to have a family meeting yes?” Chan interrupts, wiggling his brows at you. Your saddened expression has no effect on him as he sighs, running his fingers through his hair. “I suppose I should be kind enough for you to stay for another night. I’ll be here at dawn to pick you up. Don’t be late,” his carefree gaze disappears. “We wouldn’t want anything happening to your favorite Mavians because of a simple mistake. See you soon.” He leaves, no one following him out. All of their gazes are on you as the door shuts behind Chan. Wooyoung is the only one to watch from the window as Chan gets into his car, leaving the property.

Surprisingly, Seonghwa doesn’t move from his stare down. You ignore him, rubbing your face. You have one more night here. One more night where things aren’t too bad. At least your brother is fine. Chan kept his promise, Jongho is safe.

“Why does he want me so badly?” you mumble to yourself.

“y/n what’s going on!” Jongho says, grabbing your arm. “Chan told me that you two were to be married. I've already moved our things – which wasn't much anyway, into his home. And that all we need is you," he glances at Mingi staring him down.

"I've never agreed to marrying him, Jongho. I told him I'd think about it. I never told him yes."

He shakes his head. "But he said they hurt you–"

You frown, furious. "They've never touched me in a way I didn't want them to. He's been manipulating you to get to me. I–" you close your eyes, trying your best to calm your anger. It's not enough though, the flames seeming to burn through your body, ignite even further. “I want to kill him.”

“Then we kill him,” Yeosang speaks up, his deep timber still soft. “When he comes for you tomorrow morning, we strike him dead. It is as simple as that.”

“That’s too big of a risk,” Yunho sighs loudly, glancing at Hongjoong. “Our leader here might have set him off just a bit, but I have a strong feeling that Chan was going to threaten all of us anyway. He must have suspected that you didn’t want to come to him. He has the advantage at this point. He has the weaponry to wipe out our manor with the snap of his fingers. There’s little we can do.”

“I told you, I’m going with him,” you insist.

“You’re not going with him,” San says again. “I told you that already. Stop saying that.”

“What do you expect me to do then San? Sit here on my ass and let you all die because I’m being selfish?”

“Then be selfish! Be selfish for one moment in your life!” Seonghwa shouts at you. Mingi stands, moving closer to you. He meets his gaze, and Seonghwa only frowns. “I’m not going to hurt her, Mingi.”

“Lower your tone,” Mingi says simply. Seonghwa swallows harshly, glaring at your for another moment before turning on his heel, stomping out the room. The door swings harshly, Hongjoong moving out the way and narrowly missing the wood. It rattles against the painting sitting on the wall, the glass encasement shattering. You jump, Jongho gripping your hand and pulling you closer to him.

“He’s just upset, we have to give him time,” Yunho says. “Right now… I don’t think we have a choice. Lady, I’m sorry that you’re being put into this position of having to choose. If it was in our favor, I would have killed him without so much as a thought. But there’s a bigger picture here. You do understand that, right?” There’s something in between his words as he looks at you. You’re not sure if he’ll ever bring up the connection you two have, almost dismissing it when you entered. But you can see it now in his eyes. His gaze deep with melancholy. “Before we leave, I’ll try my best to save you from your fate.”

“When I leave…” you start, looking down at your brother. No matter how much time has past, you can only see the little kid you took care of since you could talk. The wide, innocent eyes, previously free from the horrors of the real world. They’re hardened now, stained with losing his childhood too soon. Above all, everything you’ve done was to make sure he was safe. “When I leave, protect him. Make sure he’s not targeted or hurt in anyway.”

He laughs dryly. “I’m not leaving your side, I’m not letting you go through this alone. Fuck no.”

“Hey,” you nudge him. “You’re old enough to separate from me. It was your birthday a few days ago, wasn’t it? You’re 18. You don’t need me next to you every second, you know.”

“You’re contradicting yourself. I’m old enough to leave your side but not old enough to make a decision on my own? I’m not a fucking kid, y/n!” His hands tighten into fists, but he takes a breath. “I’ve been away from you for over two months. Two months without a word from you. Nothing. I thought that you might have died, or worse.” He looks down at you, eyebrows twitching. Preventing himself from crumbling in front of you. “But I listened to every word you told me. I read your letter you left under my pillow, and after a month I left our home. I told our parents that I won’t be coming back, but they were too drunk to even care. You know they didn’t even ask what happened to you? Not one word.”

“You know how they are,” you say softly, and he nods.

“I do. But if I knew you were going to go out there and sacrifice yourself to a man who doesn’t have enough balls to get someone who actually wants him, instead of forcing himself on a woman he hasn’t seen in years…” He shakes his head. “I’m not leaving your side again, y/n. I didn’t even want you to come down here,” he gestures to the men around you. His expression softens slightly. “But from what I can see, they were taking care of you. I haven’t seen you look this healthy in a long time,��� he admits. “You really think it’s a good idea to go to Chan now?”

“No,” Wooyoung interrupts, “Sorry to break this up, but it’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. And ingenious,” his grin widens. “Convince the human that you want him, and then kill him. The perfect crime. Mavians won’t be at fault for it, and you can come back down here once you’ve assassinated him. We are going to leave this planet in the next few days, anyway,” he shrugs.

“Way to tell her the plan,” Hongjoong frowns. “Isn’t this too much fuss over one human? Why do you all care so much?” He looks in each of your faces, stopping on San. His eyes narrow slightly, glancing between you and him. “Unless…”

“It’s none of your concern, Hongjoong,” Mingi says sharply. “I agree with Wooyoung. Maybe not so much in the killing part, but there must be a way for you to get away from him. We need to come up with a plan.”

“When you do, let me know,” you tug on your brother’s hand, pulling him with you. “Right now, I want to bring my brother to the room he’ll be sleeping in while I’m gone.”

You brush past San, ignoring the shivers that roll through you when your skin touches. Jongho looks at the rest in confusion, the door slamming behind you. You pull him through the hallways, and into your room, shutting the door lightly. Your gaze meets his, relaxing.

“Are they always that tense?” He asks, and you shake your head.

“No, they’re not. Just when it comes to important decisions. You’ll like them, Jongho. They’re all kind. Even Wooyoung, just don’t fall for his tricks.” You sit on the edge of your bed. Jongho slowly sits at the small table just across, glancing around the area. It reminds you of when you first got here, your eyes full of awe. His eyes are wider, wonder in his gaze. They finally flick to yours, expression resolute.

“Will you come back for me?” he asks. There’s so many questions in that one, so many things to say and not to say.

You look down at the floor, “I don’t know if I’ll be coming back this time, Jongho.” It’s hard to admit. You don’t know what Chan’s plans are when you arrive, if he’s really this obsessed with being with you, or if there’s an underlying plan. You don’t know what happens when you leave this manor behind, or if you’ll ever see any of them again. There’s a lot you’ll be abandoning. Perhaps listening to Yeosang’s advice in the beginning could have made all of this less hard than it is. “I don’t know.” you repeat softly.

“Will you try?” he asks. “I don’t want to be in a safe place when you’re not, y/n. You’re my sister, you’re…” he struggles. “You’re my only family. You are what our parents weren’t. I know it’s not what you asked for, and I’m sorry for being a burden on you. And you’re never selfish in your wants so I don’t want to ask you this. But I want you with me. I want you to be safe with me. We’re supposed to be together until the end,” he says simply. You walk over without hesitation, wrapping your arms around his head and pressing it into your torso. He holds you tight, fingers digging into your shirt. “Promise me that you’ll at least try for me.”

“I’m going to try my best to come back to you,” you promise, voice cracking. “Fucking hell, Jongho. Why were we giving the short end of the stick?”

He laughs, this time genuine. “You must have tripped someone by accident and they put a curse on you. Everything that has the potential to go wrong does,” he pulls away slightly, pursuing his lips. “But what’s with you and the Mavians here?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” he lets go completely, glancing at the door. “You already have the commander obsessed with you. Why are most of them a little into you?” He raises his brow. “Did you flirt with them so they won’t hurt you?”

“Jongho!”

“The dirty tango?”

You hit him lightly and he laughs, pushing you back. “What! I’m your brother, of course I’d notice these things.”

“What happened to them?” you asked after the laughter subsided. He sighs softly.

“They got themselves in deep shit. Debt that I couldn’t possibly pull them out of. I left them behind y/n. I know that it wasn’t the best decision to make, but I wouldn’t have been able to help all by myself. We tried all our lives and have barely been making a dent in their loans. I couldn’t handle it after dad came after me and begged for something. I just…” he frowns. “That was when I listened to your advice and left. I’m sorry I couldn’t protect them like you did. I tried, I really did.”

“I know,” you ruffle his hair, “There’s nothing you could’ve done. I would’ve probably done the same thing like you. We’ve been protecting them all our lives, Jongho. I know we appreciated what they tried to do, but it didn’t work. They needed to learn how to take care of themselves. We have lives to live. They already had their chance. It’s okay to feel bad, but don’t let yourself get lost in it. You have me. And I’m going to fight to get back to you.”

He smiles softly. “That’s all I wanted.”

–

You let Mingi show Jongho around the manor shortly after that, said Mavian telling you that Yunho wants to see you alone. You’ve been agonizing over the thought of being alone with him. You know nothing about Yunho; he only shows you what he wants to. The others must have scattered soon after you left though, not one trace of any of them in the hallways. You’re a bit glad about that, at least. You already have other things to deal with than somehow stumbling into another one of them.

You knock on his office door, entering. He sits at his desk, a quick glance at you letting you know it was okay to go inside. You close the door behind you, sitting at one of two chairs in front of his desk. He tsks at documents in front of him, not saying anything to you. Almost fifteen minutes go past like this, not one word uttered from either of you. Finally, you decide to break the tension, speaking.

“Haven’t you been a bit harsh on him?” You ask, Yunho hesitating in his writing. “Hongjoong, I mean. I know that you have a history I have yet to find out–”

“I’m glad that you know. That should stop you from saying what you’re going to add next, then,” Yunho interrupts you, continuing to sign his signature on paperwork. You go silent, only the sound of him flipping through paper after paper, stack after stack. He glances at you for a quick second. “Is that all?”

“Why? Should I say anything else? Because it seems like every time someone tries to speak to you, you dismiss their concerns and input your opinion before hearing everything else.”

His lip quirks slightly. “Is that what you believe?”

“It’s what I’ve witnessed, Jeong Yunho.”

He finally stops writing, and meets your gaze. He’s always been cheerful in his appearance, his real emotions hidden from you. Even now, as he stares at you. “Then tell me y/n, this miraculous conclusion that you’ve come up with, seeing me interact with the other’s for less than two months.”

“That you’re an amazing leader, with talents that supersede any other people I’ve come across. But you’re insensitive, arrogant, and an asshole,” you say. He scoffs, about to speak but you continue. “And you consistently interrupt every single person that speaks to you. You place your unwanted and frankly, offensive, opinions on us and expect us to just fall in line because you’re the leader of this clan. Sure, you listen once every blue moon. But most of the time you don’t. Even right now, you brought me into this office of yours because you wanted to see me and you haven’t said anything to me! I don’t understand you.”

“I was going to speak to you after finishing my paperwork,” he says. If you could reach over and shake sense into him, you would.

“Then maybe call me to your office when you’re not busy ignoring me?” you suggest, scoffing. “The Fates definitely like to play games.”

“The Fates are never wrong,” Yunho says strongly. “It’s not something we can choose, y/n. And they don’t make decisions just to stir up drama. You’re Fated to several of us for a reason. You’re an important person in our lives, whether you like it or not.”

“There you go again!” You say, throwing your hands up in the air. “How about some compassion, Yunho? Of course I don’t want this, especially with someone like you, or Yeosang, or--”

“Yeosang?”

You stop moving. Shit.

He stands, coming around the desk. “Yeosang is one of your Fates? When did you think to mention this? Were you ever going to?”

You roll your eyes, “No. I wasn’t. Yeosang can do whatever he wants. Like he’s said before, I’m leaving soon anyway. There was no need to tell any of you because it is none of your business. Why did you bring me into this office, Yunho?” You try to push away the revelation that you suddenly sprouted onto him. He rubs his chin, leaning against his desk.

“I thought that if you were in my presence, I would feel something that tied us together. And I am correct, I do,” he looks at you. “I can feel your frustration toward me. You might not be able to feel much since you’re a human, but I can feel your emotions. I thought that I was angry at Chan, furious even when he was here, but it was a combination of your emotion and mine. All of this is odd,” he says softly. “But that has to be put on the back burner. Do you really believe that I have a lack of empathy?” his eyes meet yours. The flower tattoo; a small reminder of his position in the clan. Before knowing him you were afraid of his presence, but staying here for so long, getting comfortable, allows you to speak your mind freely.

“I think you have empathy, but you don’t know how to show it,” you say. “You have compassion, Yunho. I can see it in you. But you don’t listen to our feelings when we speak to you directly. Honestly, this is the first time I’ve seen you acknowledge what’s being said to you. When you spoke with Seonghwa, you ignored what he was telling you. He was basically laying it out for you, but you pushed him away. Like you do with me. Like San, like everyone you come across.”

“I understand,” he says softly. You see a slight break in his expression. “I don’t trust Hongjoong for several reasons, y/n. But I have distrusted him so long I don’t pay attention to the small improvements. Although his wording was harsh to Chan, I could see how it helped. Chan knows what we’re capable of, and that makes him afraid. Taking away you, someone we care about, may be a big part of him trying to break us apart. The meeting didn’t go exactly as I planned, but I am grateful for what I witnessed.”

He moves off the desk, a small smile on his lips. “It’s hard for someone in my position to tell my true feelings. At the forefront of my thoughts is the survival of our people. I haven’t taken time to cultivate personal relationships with everyone because I am too busy leading them. I may not be the Mav that you dreamed of being Fated to, not that you dreamed of it at all, but I do understand your concerns and try to improve. Being stoic towards our people will only push them further away from me. I am…” he hesitates. “I just didn’t want to turn into Hongjoong. I didn’t want the grief of losing 90% of our population to weigh on me like it has him. But going about it this way will not change anything.”

“Thank you for saying that. It’s not often people admit when they aren’t in the right.”

He smiles at you, “You’re definitely correct about that, peacemaker.”

“No need to call me that anymore,” you wave him off. “You’ve heard my name. My brother let it slip without thinking twice about it.”

“That he did,” he agrees, “But you still are our first and only peacemaker. Nothing will change that, not even the meddling of a pompous commander who thinks he’s above it all. I didn’t want to say it in front of the others but,” he rubs the back of his neck. “I’ll let you make the decision on whether you want to stay or go. But you know from Seonghwa. If something were to happen to you, we’d all feel it. It will be unbearable and painful, but we will survive it.”

“I don’t want you to just survive it,” you say. “Surviving isn’t living, not really.”

“Then that is too high of an order,” he says simply. “I have yet to feel the impact of you, but I will certainly if anything happens to you. Not as terrible as San, but I will feel it. You just have to make sure you make it back okay.” He smiles lightly. “At least in one stable piece. We will be there to help with the rest.”

-

You close the door behind you, closing your eyes for a brief moment. This was your decision. You know it’s for the greater good. To protect all of the Mavians and your brother. If kissing the ass of someone like Chan can keep them safe a little longer, at least long enough for them to leave the planet, then you’d do it. But you’ll try your best to get out of it quickly, for your brother’s sake.

For everyone’s sake.

Yunho mentioned giving Hongjoong a few letters since you’re passing by his room. You’d rather not, if you’re being honest, but it would be quick. Just in and out, giving him the stack you couldn’t read because it was written in Mavian (although, even in your language you’re barely able to understand it). You notice the absence of caretakers in the hallways; they evacuated everyone once Chan left, leaving only the main figures in the household. The house was quiet before, but you knew there were Mavians behind the scenes that made the house function daily. The quiet now only saddened you.

You knock on Hongjoong’s door lightly.

“Come in dear peacemaker,” his pitch was high. You braced yourself for the trauma that might’ve awaited you behind the door, swinging it open quickly. He sat on the bed, shirt lifted up slightly. You expected to see more markings on his skin, but these cover every surface you see, several different shapes meshed together. From far away, it’d look like he had a blackout tattoo. But as you moved closer, you could see the small markings. You’re sure if you stared hard enough, you’d spot familiar flowers.

“Like what you see?” He wiggles his brows. He chuckles lightly when you glance away. “Just kidding with you. Stare all you want.” He winces slightly, a bandage between his teeth as he cleans off a cut on his stomach. He’s good at hiding it; it looks deep, blood staining the sheets underneath him.

“Why do you have so many tattoos?” Letting the intrusive thoughts win. “Yunho has the leadership tattoos underneath his eye, but you’re completely covered with them.”

“It’s my people. Each and every one marks someone in our clan who’s alive and well. That’s why there’s hundreds of markings. Being a clan leader makes me carry the blessing of having every Mavian marking etched into my skin. Although, there is a small curse to it,” he murmurs, slowly pressing the bandage to his skin. “Each time a Mavian dies, I feel the pain of their death. It’s unbearable.”

“Is that…” You start, gesturing to the wound. He nods solemnly.

“It is. Hanse was a good one indeed. Gathered information without thinking twice about it, didn’t care about the risks. Unfortunately, he paid the price with his life,” he runs his finger along the cut. “They stabbed him.”

“How can you function, feeling everything they feel?” you ask.

He raises his brow at you, “Do you believe I’m functioning?”

You glance behind him, seeing bottles of liquor lining the window sill. You don’t have anything to say to that. “Yunho isn’t the leader yet, that’s why he’s not covered like you are. But what if you relinquished your role and gave it to him?” You told yourself you would just drop off the papers and leave, but you needed to know more. Maybe something would persuade Chan for a second before you killed him.

He furrows his brows, “No one has ever stepped down from leading out people. It is an honor. But in the case of me giving my role to him, maybe I’ll die, who knows.” He shrugs. “Better off than me leading our people into ruin again.”

“I don’t think you’ll lead them to ruin,” you say softly. “No one alive has felt the pain you feel. I can tell you love your people.”

He grunts, shaking his head. “You don’t even know me, little one. You weren’t there when I arrived on this planet, leading our people to doom. How can you judge someone you’ve barely known for two days, hm?” His lips curve into a light smile. “That’s a bit foolish of you.”

“If you didn’t care, you wouldn’t have defended them so fiercely when Chan was here. You wouldn’t have come in the first place,” you point out.

“Ah, if only every human thought like you,” Hongjoong pushes his hair off his forehead, throwing himself back on his bed. “Maybe we would have been able to live in peace and harmony, as they say. A question for you, since you’ve been bombarding me with them.” His head flops to the side, eyes barely seen through his overgrown bangs. “Why are you so kind to me? I am sure Seonghwa must have insulted me each chance he got. Everyone else has, really. But not you,” his playful smile slips slightly. “Why are you kind?”

"I am kind to you because I know how cruel feels, Captain."

His lip curves slightly, “I can tell. Those eyes of yours have seen cruelty that no being should bear. It feels as if I’m looking into the reflection of myself. Only a pitiful, human version. I have a bit of advice for you, little one,” he swallows lightly. “Cherish your friendships with my people. Take care of them. Don’t let their harsh words get to you. The looks on their faces when you said you were going to San… It was like I was watching them a hundred years ago. Being told that we have to leave our planet. Their care for you is endless. Do make sure you come back in one piece.”

He pouts, “Or else I’ll go topside and drag you back myself.” His eyes flick to the paperwork you left on the side table. “Now would you be a darling and pass me that?”

-

You wake up in a sweat, your back burning. You try to hold back your screams, your fingers digging into your sheets as you feel a deep knife carving into the skin above your spine. Out of desperation, your hand trembles as it reaches for the side lamp, tipping it over. The crash echoes into the night and you gasp, feeling the blood soaking the blanket you're underneath. The door immediately slams open, a guard coming in unprompted. His eyes move to you immediately, widening once he sees the condition you're in.

"Peacemaker –"

"Move!" Several more steps come inside, your vision blurring as you begin to scream. Your body writhes in bed as San tries to hold it still, your tears hot against your skin. You can't say a word, the pain too overwhelming to bear. Your ears throb as he speaks to you. Jongho comes in after him. You don’t have the words to tell them anything, to insist that they not worry.

“Hey! Hey listen to me Bug, what’s going on?” His voice is terrified, hands shaking as he holds you in his arms. His touch feels scorching, each finger imprinting itself into your skin. You can’t tell him to let go, the pain unbearable to speak through. You turn to another, eyes begging for them to stop him. Your eyesight is flooded with tears, too blurry for you to make out who it is.

"Release her body!" You hear the familiar voice of Seonghwa, his frame slamming into San's, forcing him to let you go. Seonghwa almost reaches out but hesitates, pulling his hand back. "She was wincing in pain when you were touching her."

"What's going on?!" San's voice is panicked as he looks at you. "She can't move!"

"Stop yelling and think this through, San. I already called Wooyoung. He should be here promptly."

The pain is overwhelming, spreading through your body. You don’t get the chance to reassure them, passing out on the mattress.

-

"We should have known this was going to happen. She should have been sent away in the beginning so we didn't have to see her like this," Yeosang's voice whispers, almost low enough so you wouldn't hear. Almost.

"Not now. After she's okay we'll talk about it. Not now, Yeo," you can hear how his voice pleads, and you want to reach out and comfort him. You hate hearing San's worried voice. Whatever it is, whatever you're going through, you're sure it's an easy fix. As you regain consciousness their voices fade, the heavy weight against your back making you breath heavily.

"Be careful, you don't want to irritate your skin," San says. You feel his hands on your arms, holding you lightly. You open your eyes slowly. His eyes are swollen from crying, blood red as they stare at you. His smile is strained, dimple barely seen. He's trying his best not to make you worry, but it's no use. You place both of your hands on the mattress, shakily lifting your body up. The burning on your back is still there, just not as severe as before. You try shaking away the feeling, but it remains. A dull ache.

"Did someone try to kill me again?" You half joke, looking at him. He shakes his head.

"No. You've been in this bed for a while, want to freshen up? "

"Are you saying I stink?" You chuckle dryly, wincing. His irises shake, biting his lip. "Don't look at me like that, San. There's no need to pity me.” You think to your brother, the worried look on his face painful. “Where’s Jongho?”

"Mingi has him, Bug. He’s fine, we just let him walk for a bit to get some air. And it's not pity, it's fear. I worry for you. Too many times are happening all at once, and there's little I can do to stop it. I'm powerless," he confesses. "Utterly powerless."

"Shut up."

Shock crosses his face.

"I'm serious. Shut up," you move your leg, reminded of the arrow wound. You cuss, grinding your teeth together. "Fuck me," your voice shakes.

"I can try to bathe you here–"

"No, no. I'm fine." You wave him home. He still helps you stand anyway, taking most of the weight on him as he basically carries you to the bathroom. He kicks the door open with ease, placing you lightly on the toilet. He stands there for a moment, staring at you. "San, I can pee on my own."

"I know," you notice his gaze flick to the only window in the room. He's worried that someone is going to attack again. Your chest tightens.

"I'll be fine," you say. "No one is going to kill me in here. I'm sure all of you have secured the manor already."

"We did, you're right. I'm being silly."

"No, you're being safe. Thank you San. I'll yell for you if I need anything, really. No hesitation. A real promise."

He hesitates, then nods. "Okay, l’ll wait outside."

He shuts the door behind him and you shakily stand, locking it softly. Your eyes flick to you in the mirror. The eyebags are deep, drooping into your cheeks. Your cheekbones look almost hollow, eyes red as you stare at yourself. You turn around, reaching with trembling hands to lift up your shirt. Just above your waist on your back, you can see the start of what looks like plants carved into your back. Your fingers brush against a lower one, hissing slightly. It's a fresh wound. The dull ache is replaced by your sting of pain.

This is what made you pass out. This carving into your spine. You lift your shirt up further, the flowers resting with only an inch in between them. You swallow slowly, tears falling down your cheeks as the pain slowly comes back. You know where these are from. You've seen a few of them already. At the bottom rests the one that Yeosang has tattooed on the left side of his hip bone. And just above that is San's.

You're soulmates.

You drop your shirt back down, lightly touching each flower that's on your spine, counting softly. Seven. Seven flowers.

Seven soulmates.

No…

No.

You have to leave. Now.

Your body protests silently as you make your way to the window, unlocking and lifting it up slowly. It barely makes a sound, only a light creak echoing into the late night. You grind your teeth as you climb through, pushing it down slowly. There's only a matter of minutes before San realizes that you're gone. Not only from the silence in the bathroom but your presence being gone. He told you once before that he could feel when you're near. Unfortunately, it isn't the same for you.

You balance yourself on the roof, slowly making your way to the ladder just at the end. Ignoring the pain on your back, you struggle down. You hear a loud slam from the bathroom you came from, San's frantic yells muffled. He noticed too quickly.

You pick up your pace, dropping to the ground. An agonizing pain shoots up your back as you hold on your cries, unable to move from all fours on the ground. This is a stupid idea and you know it, but there's nothing you can do. You can't deal with it anymore. Three was pushing it, but seven? One you don't even know the identity of? Too much is happening at once and you can't control it like you used to. So you don't think of this as running away, but as a short break from them. A chance to figure things out on your own. Maybe leave early to deal with Chan. Anything but this.

Your feet cry out as you speed walk through pebbles, making it only halfway to the front gate when you hear a cough. You stop, slowly turning around to see who it is. Wooyoung stands there, head tilted slightly as he stares at you. The playful look you're used to is nowhere to be found, his eyes dark and expression solemn.

"Where are you going?" He asks simply, tapping his fingers against his sides. "The manor is locked down. If you touched a fence we'd be alerted. If you took one step outside the grounds we'd know. So where are you running off to, love bug?"

"Anywhere but here," you say, grinding your teeth as you attempt to hold yourself steady. "Don't try to make me stay."

He holds his hands up, shaking his head. "I won't. But I'm your caretaker love bug, and you're hurting yourself by exerting more energy than your body can handle right now. You're going to fall unconscious if you continue down this route. Don't you think you've done that enough?" He takes a step toward you and you shake your head, holding your hand out to stop him.

"No, no! Don't come any closer Woo. Don't."

"I'm not going to hurt you," His eyebrows furrow, worried. "You trust me not to hurt you right?"

"I don't want any of this," you say, biting your lower lip to hold in your sobs. "I don't want to do this, Woo. I just want to be normal. I want my brother to be happy and safe. I don't want all of this happening to me. I don't." You're begging him. Hoping he'd understand. Maybe take pity on you and let you run away. But he only moves closer, hands still up in the air. "Stop Wooyoung!"

"You're scared," he says softly.

"No–"

"You're scared of the unknown. Of what will happen if you accept all of this insanity that's going on. You're scared you wouldn't be able to handle it. You're scared that we're going to run away from you. That we don't care enough for you to deal with this shit that just seems to be endless. A never ending cycle of confusion and surprises."

"Wooyoung," you plead, slowly dropping to your knees. He continues moving closer, now only a foot away. "Help me."

He smiles sincerely, crouching down. He keeps his distance from you, pushing his hair away from his face. "Why don't we just sit here for a while, hm? We don't have to talk." His hand reaches out, brushing against your cheek. He confirms what you already know, the familiar hum of the bond as he strokes your skin with his thumb. You don’t push him away like he expects, leaning into his touch.

“I won’t leave you. Just don’t leave us. Not yet.” He rests his body against the grass. He doesn’t ask, not like the others would. He just pulls you into his chest, cradling your body as he covers you with his own. Cheek resting against your hair, hands wrapped tight around you. “Shh… it’ll be okay. You’ll be okay.”

“I’m sorry,” you say through cries, your sobs making your words break. “I’m sorry for everything.”

“I know, y/n,” he murmurs. “But I’m here. You don’t have to run anymore. I know it hurts. Just don’t run anymore, okay?” His voice shakes as he speaks, hands shaking as they hold you. “If we can’t figure this out tonight, we have tomorrow, alright?”

He looks down at you, fingers brushing away your tears. “We always have tomorrow.”

⬅️ previous | next ➡️

tags: @teezers99 @downbadreading (?) @takoyakibinnie @vanishingboots @katelynnsqueendom @baguette-atiny @atinytease @kpopnightingale @bettyschwallocksyee @captainjoongiekissme @renapersa @oficialhwa @k-pop-trash-99 @hongshines​

[dc-and-arfrona]

Trapped

—-

Nightwing x GN!Reader

Type: Fluff

Word Count: 1.1k+

Masterlist

Summary: You guys meet when you’re trapped in an elevator.

—

The night was crisp, and the city's skyline shimmered with the vibrant glow of streetlights and distant signs. I patrolled the rooftops of Gotham as Nightwing, keeping a vigilant eye on the city I had sworn to protect. Little did I know that fate had a different plan in store for me that evening.

As I leaped across the rooftops, my senses sharpened. A distress call echoed through the night, indicating an emergency at an office building downtown. Without hesitation, I raced towards the location, adrenaline coursing through my veins.

Arriving at the scene, I discovered that a group of criminals had triggered a power outage, leaving the building in darkness. Panic filled the air as people scrambled, searching for a way out. I knew time was of the essence.

With calculated precision, I subdued the criminals, disarming them one by one. But as I moved deeper into the building, I found myself stepping into an elevator, its doors closing behind me. In the blink of an eye, the confined space became my temporary prison.

I tapped on the control panel, attempting to regain control of the elevator, but it was unresponsive. I sighed, realizing that I was trapped with no way to contact the outside world. This was not how I envisioned my night playing out.

Suddenly, the silence was broken by a soft voice. "Um, excuse me? Are you Nightwing?"

I turned my attention towards the stranger beside me—a captivating individual who exuded a unique blend of confidence and vulnerability. They had a warmth in their eyes that immediately drew me in.

"Yes, that's right," I replied, my voice calm despite the circumstances. "And who might you be?"

A small smile graced their lips. "Just a regular person in need of a little rescuing right now. I never thought I'd find myself in an elevator with a superhero."

We exchanged a brief chuckle, the tension within the confined space dissipating. There was something about their presence that put me at ease.

As time stretched on, conversation flowed freely between us. We shared stories, hopes, and dreams—finding solace in each other's company. In that dimly lit elevator, we formed a connection, a bond forged in the face of uncertainty.

Hours passed, and the silence settled upon us, punctuated only by the occasional muffled sound from outside. It was during one of these lulls that I felt a shift in the air—a gentle vulnerability emanating from the stranger beside me.

"I never expected to meet someone like you," they confessed, their voice barely above a whisper. "Someone who fights for justice and inspires hope. It's... it's truly extraordinary."

I met their gaze, captivated by their sincerity. "It takes more than just a mask and a cape to make a difference. It takes courage, compassion, and the belief that even in the darkest of nights, there's always a glimmer of light."

They nodded, their eyes shimmering with admiration. "You're right. And in this moment, you've given me hope, Nightwing. You've shown me that even when we're trapped, there's still a chance for connection and resilience."

As the words hung in the air, a flicker of understanding passed between us. The confines of the elevator had become a space for transformation—a testament to the power of human connection.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the elevator jolted back to life, its doors sliding open to reveal the world outside. The chaos of the night greeted us, but we faced it together—strangers turned allies, inspired by the shared experience of being trapped and finding solace in each other's presence.

With a final nod and a grateful smile, we stepped out of the elevator, each going our separate ways. But the memory of that night, of the connection formed in the face of adversity, would forever remain etched in our hearts.

Months had passed since that fateful night in the elevator, but the memory of the stranger I had met remained vivid in my mind. Their warmth, their laughter, and the genuine connection we had shared continued to linger, even as I continued my duties as Nightwing, protecting the city.

It was an unusually quiet night, and I found myself patrolling the streets of Gotham. As I turned a corner, my eyes locked with a familiar figure—a figure that stirred a whirlwind of emotions within me. It was them—the person I had met in the elevator all those months ago.

A mixture of surprise and delight washed over their face as our eyes met. "Nightwing? Is that really you?"

I couldn't help but smile, my heart skipping a beat at the sight of them. "Yes, it's me. What are the chances of running into each other again?"

They stepped closer, their gaze filled with a mixture of curiosity and anticipation. "I've thought about that night so many times. It feels like a lifetime ago. How have you been?"

I paused for a moment, feeling a rush of emotions welling up within me. I had to be honest—I couldn't keep my thoughts and feelings hidden any longer. "To be honest, I haven't been able to stop thinking about you. In the midst of everything I do, you've always been in the back of my mind."

Their eyes widened, surprise and intrigue dancing within them. "You... you think of me?"

I nodded, the weight of my confession lifting off my shoulders. "Yes, more than you can imagine. Our encounter in that elevator was brief, but it left a lasting impact on me. You showed me the power of connection and reminded me that even in the darkest of times, there's always a glimmer of hope."

A soft smile spread across their face, their eyes shining with a mix of joy and affection. "I've thought about you too, Nightwing. Meeting you that night made me realize that there's so much more to the world than just the struggles and hardships. You gave me hope and showed me that superheroes exist not just in comics, but in real life too."

In that moment, the distance between us seemed to disappear, replaced by an undeniable pull of attraction and shared experiences. The months apart had only served to deepen the connection we had forged that night.

As we stood there, basking in the serendipity of our reunion, I couldn't help but reach out and gently take their hand in mine. "I know our paths are different, and our lives are complicated, but I can't deny the way you've made me feel. I haven't been able to think of anyone else but you."

Their fingers intertwined with mine, their touch grounding me in the present moment. "Nightwing, I feel the same way. The connection we share—it's undeniable. Let's see where it takes us."

With a renewed sense of hope and the knowledge that our paths had converged once again, we embarked on a new chapter—a chapter that would test our resilience, deepen our bond, and prove that even in a city consumed by darkness, love could be found in the most unexpected places.

[leviackermanscleaningbuddy]

this is a bit of a weird question and i’m sorry for that but i’m really curious.. it’s for the pack, does y/n still get her period? i’ve never seen in mentioned in the stories, but i’m very curious, i know she gets ruts, but i’m curious to know about it.

does she get her period? and if so how is it ?

"Not weird at all!" You laugh, waving your hands in consolation. "That's a perfectly normal question to be curious about, and one I'm more than happy to talk about!"

"Basically, I get regular, monthly periods-that's my human cycle-and it's due to my female primary gender right? And then I get my yearly rut as well-my wolf cycle-because of my subgender. Does that make sense?"

"So the short answer is yes, I get a period each month just like normal."

"Funny, cause if you get it every month, you'd think you'd be prepared and have enough tampons on hand." Minho smirks.

"I do that on purpose." You quip back quickly, meeting the alpha's gaze. You let your eyes slide over to Changbin with a smirk of your own. "Just so Binnie has to go to the store for me and call me to ask what he needs to get every time."

"Fuck you." Changbin says with no malice, just obvious exasperation.

"Do it yourself, you coward."

"Do you know how many terribly awkward conversations I've had to have with the female conveinence store clerk because of you?"

"Oh, I'm aware. We laugh at you when I go on my weekly snack runs."

"Again. Fuck you."

"Again. Please do."

"Anyway." You turn back to the question at hand after sufficiently teasing Changbin, a grin still on your lips. "My periods were super terrible when I first started having them. We're talking like, throwing up because of the cramps, flat in bed for the entire week, going through a box of tampons in like 24 hours, kinda thing."

"Woof." Jisung says with an obvious grimace. "Glad I'm not a girl."

"And then-" You shrug. "I got on birth control when I graduated high school, it's usually a precautionary required measure to attend subgendered colleges when you're either a primary female or subgender omega, and all the symptoms got a whole lot better."

"I'm not saying it's fun, by any means, but it's manageable now."

"We're all matching birth control besties." Jeongin says with a grin, as he holds out his arm where the implant is just barely visible as a tiny bump beneath his tan skin. "BCBs."

"Never say that again."

"What's a matter, hyung? Jealous you can't be a BCB too?"

"The farthest thing from actually."

"I think we've talked about it before, but the omegas get much more clingy when it's your time of the month." Chan remarks, and you nod thoughtfully. "They don't leave your side, and they're more vocally protective than usual."

"It's because heats have made us sensitive to the same feeling in others. Periods mimic heats, and they're both hell." Hyunjin offers, glancing to you. "My omega gets all twitchy and restless during noona's period."

"Mine basically screams at me 24/7 to comfort." Felix laughs ruefully. "So I snuggle a lot and buy snacks and run baths and watch stupid movies."

"And it's the best thing you could do." You reply truthfully, shooting the omega a grateful look. "It makes me feel so much better."

"Innie has an interesting reaction, to say the least." Changbin glances at the youngest omega, one eyebrow raised, a slight smirk curving the corners of his mouth now.

"Why do you always have to bring this up?" The omega whines, covering his face with his hands, the tips of his ears going red.

Seungmin chortles. "Because it's so goddamn entertaining. Even to this day."

Jeongin shoots the older beta a glare.

"Ah yes." Minho sits back on the couch, looking smug now. "I remember. The fateful head alpha/baby omega incident."

You roll your eyes. "It wasn't that bad."

"I mean." Chan grins, his eyes twinkling with mirth, as he gives a half shrug. "I was kind of worried I was going to lose a finger, but other than that-"

"Oh my god." Jeongin wails, burying his face into Felix's arm. "I hate you guys."

"Wait, wait, wait-" Jisung sits up now, eyes bright, as he glances at the buried omega with open amusement. "-we're talking about the time the baby actually growled at Channie-hyung right?"

"The one and only."

"Once upon a time," You sigh at their teasing, and Jeongin shoots you a grateful look from the safety of Felix's embrace as you get on with it already. "I was on my period, and I was pretty sick, because my birth control had lapsed and couldn't be replaced until the next week. The omegas hadn't left my side, and when Chan came to check on me, Innie was with me, we were watching a movie in my bed."

"I was just bringing her food, okay?" Chan defends himself, though he's still biting back a smile.

"He came into the room, and Innie immediately tensed, and when he approached the bed and tried to reach out to touch me, Innie growled at him."

"I legitimately thought you might bite me." Chan chuckles, shaking his head ruefully.

"Hyung came out of that room and I've never seen him so confused in his entire life." Jisung cackles, clapping his hands together in glee. "He looked at Minho-hyung and he just said, 'Innie growled at me.' And then he shook his head and disappeared to his own room."

"To be fair-" Jeongin speaks up for himself, the apples of his cheek still adorably red. "-the hyungs told me their omegas get protective around the alphas when it's that time of the month too! So!"

"Yeah, but I've never actually growled at hyung, so." Hyunjin replies smugly, his arm looped loosely over the couch behind a still giggling Jisung.

You glance at the baby and give him a soft smile.

"I thought it was very sweet, puppy. You were just protecting me."

"From hyung!" Jisung laughs so hard he can't breathe, slapping his knee, as Jeongin glowers at him from the other couch.

"Fuck you, hyung."

Changbin looks proud, even as Minho looks scandalized at the youngest's language.

"That's my boy."

[ice-cream-writes-stuff]

⧱Appetency⧱

{At heart Wilson is truly a man of science. It's not in his nature to resist the call of the unknown...}

-

You side-eye the man a few steps away from the log you sat on, watching him eagerly re-reading through his blueprints on the makeshift table the two of you made, claiming it as a work desk.

You couldn't help but let your lips curl up at his fidgeting. Finding it oddly cute and rather funny when you notice him mumble a few words here or there. His face having a certain pink glow.. Myabe due to the lightning of the fire.

Glancing back at the small fire, the chopped bits of meat turn a darker color as you turn the skewers so the other side could crisp up.

You couldn't help but recall the few times he acted like this in front of you...

-

During your first meeting, the two of you were more different than... Well, many things!

Clothes for one! While you are dressed in more contemporary wear and fabrics. His was more, dignified, well.. As much as cloths could be in The Constance.

Wilson, ever the gentleman, glances away as you walk beside him. Clothes riding up slightly against your skin, heaving slightly as you drag back your kills together.

You try to strike up conversation and gain his attention, yet his milky-skin becomes a light pink as you do.

The way he spoke, too!

"My dear, are you alright?" You blink, the first time you've been called such a pet-name.

"Huh-? Oh, I'm fine! Don't sweat it!" You wave it off, a bit surprised at the warmth in your own face as you laugh it away.

""Sweat it"? Dearie, I thought we both concluded that the weather is rather too cold for such things."

He was an oddball, but.. You liked him all the same.

-

While you day-dreamed, Wilson peeked at your expression. Enamored by the sight of your far-away gaze, he tried to see if anything caught your eye. Though he couldn't find a single thing, what kind of lovely thought a beauty like you could have?

A small sigh left him as he turned back to his blueprints.

-

Meeting you was one of the strangest and most wonderful encounters he's had since being stuck on the wretched island.

You were quite.. What's the word.. Rather, many words could describe you! Or, actions spoke a bit louder to him.

During the winter season, more so Winters Feast. Wilson sat by the fire, shivering as he made a thermal stone. You and Chester arrive back to camp, you frown as you take a spot beside him.

His eyes held agitation, not bothering to wander his sights on your pitying look.

Kind could be one.. Maybe well-meaning.

You politely take a seat beside him, not too close as Chester happily barked and opened his jaw.

You pull out a few items, cautiously setting a small scarf down on his lap. "I know you don't prefer hats... So I thought this might be more.. um.. Ya' know? "Suitable"?" You test out the phrase on your tongue, smiling hopefully.

You were.. Unknown to him. Such as this daft place, his fate had now been resigned too!

Though.. You made grand company.

Helping him pick up crops, you sang a small tune under your breath. Bits of giggles leaving your throat at a few lyrics. A bit curious of the song, he spoke up.

Questions and inquiries left him as he rambled.

You only smiled, head tilting to the side a few times in confusion at a few proposals he had on the song.

"That's lot-" You huff out a laugh, Wilson could only smile back patiently. Waiting politely now, wanting to listen. You playfully bump his side, "Alright, I'll tell you."

-

You blink away your former thoughts after smelling the scent of something burning...

..!

Yelping, you grab the skewers. But it burns your hands! Causing you to drop them in the fire...

You groan unhappily, now staring at a worried Wilson as he moves to your side.

"Dear, it's alright, we're lucky to have made a few extra rations." Wilson states as he takes a seat, politely holding out his hand for you.

You slowly grin, nodding as you hand him your hand. Interlacing them together. The scientists eyes widen as he coughs awkwardly, glancing away. "I.. Wanted to see if you burned your hand."

Your own eyes widen as you let go quickly.

"I'm fine! See? Oh..." You glance at your hand and see a small cut.

Wilson gently takes your hand, encompassing it tenderly in his palms.

"A butterflies wing should fix it up." Wilson states, fixated on your hand. Lightly tracing it, the touch was kinda soothing...

Chester yips happily, bumping your leg as he opens his jaw. Wilson smiles happily at the chest, "Otto von Chesterfield, Esquire! You smart little lad!" Taking the items from the small critter, Wilson hands it to you as he pets the creature fondly.

The two of you laugh together as the sun slowly sets, the fire burning even brighter.

-

[Happy 11th Anniversary DS/DST! I had a big crush on Wilson when I was younger, so this needed to be made! Anyway, hearts and reblogs are appreciated! Let's see some comments too! Happy birthday Wilson!]

[sugarwavelove]

Everlasting

Immortal! Alkaid x Reader

Notes: lmao accidently posted the unfinished version and lost all my work, but we're back! This is my first time writing for something that isn't for my college class, so I am rather rusty. This is very much inspired from a childhood book, so if you get the reference, ily.

Content warnings: angst and may be OOC. Not proofread.

Word count: 993

Another hot summer day. Another day passed since the day she got saved from the man in the wood. If anything, saved wasn't the word. To her, it was more like being returned to her own home after some time staying with her new friend. 

So now here she was, sitting on the lawn in the unbearable heat of a summer afternoon. Staring at the new fence and locked gate. Her guardian out of fear she'll get taken again, had the fences and gate installed, and ensured she couldn't get out unless supervised by him.

“Little painter, please come inside soon, I would hate for you to exhaust yourself in this heatwave.” her guardian called from inside the home. Speaking of the devil she thought. She loved her guardian. It's just that he coddled her too much in her opinion. As to not worry him any more she simply responded with a dry “ok”. It was getting a bit too hot for her so she slowly started to rise from her spot on the yard, blissfully unaware of the man from the wood approaching the fence. 

He, as to not let his identity be revealed to others, sat down on the dry earth, opposite of the girl. He didn't care if his clothes dirtied. For now was the time to speak to her. 

“..It's been some time, Little Painter..” the man from the wood had silently said. He had come here for an urgent matter. He didn't want to leave with any regrets. Now or never. 

The Little Painter whipped around at the soft sound of his voice. She knew that voice all too well. But why? Why was he here? Why now? After what happened, he dares to show his face here? 

“Alkaid! What are you doing here!?” she exclaimed, not caring for her volume at the moment. She was glad to see him safe, glad to see him again so soon. 

At this, the man from the wood, Alkaid, hushed her immediately but in a gentle manner. 

He couldn't risk getting caught. He needed to do this now. 

“Please Little Painter, listen closely. This is important.” At this, the girl tensed. She sensed this wasn't going to be a pleasant conversation, but she let him proceed anyway. 

“I will soon be departing from the wood. The people will soon grow suspicious. I can't risk others discovering the secret spring or my immortality. I'll leave and never come back in your short lifetime…” 

The girl felt all the blood in her body drain. She felt this coming. She knew it was coming. Ever since fate had pushed them to meet at the wrong time. Ever since he took her to his home to ensure she kept his secret. It was all her fault wasn't it? If only she didn't leave her house to explore the wood that day. If only she didn't beg to drink from that spring. 

He was leaving all because the constable and her guardian knew of his existence in the wood. He didn't want them to know of his immortality. Nobody should ever come across that spring. 

So many thoughts were going through her head. Not knowing who to blame, not knowing what to say. Sensing the stiff atmosphere, Alkaid moved to cup her cheek from across the fence. His touch was so pure and genuine. 

He loved this girl, that's why he was here. 

The girl foolishly leaned into his touch. She felt hot tears threaten to fall. She didn't want to see her friend leave. 

Not wanting to drag out the torture any longer, he proceeded once more. “I will leave but I have an offer for you.” At this he moved his free hand to his pocket. From there, a small glass bottle with water in it. He placed it on his Little Painters lap. 

Would it have been anyone else, they would assume it was just regular water. But she knew all too well this wasn't. This was the water that cursed her beloved friend to eternity. The water from the spring in the wood. 

“If you wish to be with me, stay by my side, then please drink this water. Come find me when I leave. I will leave behind clues for you to locate me.” His voice is gentle but his face is full of strain and hurt. He kept himself together while the girl he loved struggled to even meet his eyes. 

Any tears that escaped her, he wiped away with his thumb. She was lost and faced with a decision to make. Leave the care of her guardian and the safety of her hometown? Or follow her friend for eternity to wherever the world takes them. 

Just as she was mustering the courage to say something, her guardian once again calls for her. She quickly hid the bottle under her skirt and turned around at the sound of the house door opening. 

Taking this opportunity, the man from the wood left without a trace. No more regrets. What was done was done. He didn't stay around to catch what her guardian would tell her. 

He silently began his journey back to the wood to retrieve his belongings before moving on. He knew she wasn't going to follow him. She had a life, forever changing. He? His life had ended the day he drank from that spring. Time forever stopped for him, never to move again. 

Was he foolish to even give her some of the water from the spring? What would she even do with the water if she declined his offer? But alas even if his brain told him she wasn't coming along, his heart held out hope that she would. He held out hope that she would love him and follow him to eternity. 

It was up to her to decide her destiny. Not his. 

He would not be aware that she decided to die with his secret. 

[chrystalwynd]

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

Synopsis:  A support group meeting that could only happen in Chrystal Heights.

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

Mind-Controllers Anonymous

By: Chrystal Wynd

                The cute brunette filled the Styrofoam cup with coffee. She added one sugar and one creamer, then picked up the cup and walked it to the man sitting at the head of the circle of chairs. She handed him the cup.

                "Thank you, Cindy," said the man. He had glasses, a high forehead and a brown ponytail.

                "You're welcome, Randy," she said.

                Randy looked around the circle. "All right, people," he said. "Are we ready to begin?"

                Nobody answered, but what little conversation there was died.

                "Good, good," said Randy. "Now, we have someone new tonight. John, why don't you stand up and introduce yourself to the group?"

                One of the men in the circle of chairs stood slowly. He was short- barely over five feet- and his eyes pointed in different directions.

                "My name is John," he said. "Some call me Odd John. But no matter. One day, all will bow to me. All will call me Master! And I will smite my enemies then. Those who looked down upon me...those who thought themselves so superior...those who dared to call me mad...I will smite them all! Men will tremble at the memory of their fates for a thousand years!"

                "Thank you for sharing, John," said Randy, "But that's really not how we say hello here."

                John stared at Randy, eyes wide. Then he exhaled.

                "Right," he said. "Sorry. Habit." He looked around the circle. "Umm...my name is John...and I'm addicted to mind control."

                The group intoned together, "Hi, John."

                Randy nodded. "So, why are you here tonight, John?"

                "Because those fools fail to recognize my natural superiority!" said John.

                "I'm sure, John," said Randy, "but is that the only reason?"

                "Well...no," said John. "They caught me putting mind-control juice in a sorority's Kool-Aid."

                "A sorority?" said a man. "You want to take over the world, so you tried to juice a sorority?"

                "You have to start somewhere," said John.

                "Of course," said the man. "Perhaps you should go to Namby Pamby Land and put mind-control juice in their drinks, too."

                "Now, Sam," said Randy, "let's be a little more understanding, okay? Not everybody has your mental domination power, so they have to do things a little differently."

                Sam began speaking in a high-pitched falsetto. "Ohhhhh, my name is Odd John, and everybody is so mean to me! They don't let me give mind-control gummy bears to Girl Scouts!"

                John's face changed colors. "Oh, yeah?!" he said. "How would you do it, Mister Know-It-All?"

                Sam's eyes glittered. "Sorority?" he said. "Forget the sorority. Go to the strip clubs and street corners. Find the sluts, their scarlet lips puckered with false kisses, their sweet, angelic smiles bearding vile lies. Gaze upon the whores and their treacherous, life-giving bosoms, their-"

                "He's off again," said a voice in the back.

                John snickered. "Someone's got mommy issues."

                Randy spoke up. "We're getting off-base here, I think," he said.

                "Well, he started it," said John.

                "Did not. You did." said Sam.

                "I did?"

                "Sam!" said Randy. "Stop that. We don't use our abilities here."

                "Fine," said Sam. "It was just a joke."

                "Now, John," continued Randy, "how did getting stopped from taking over the world make you feel?"

                John sat down and was quiet for several heartbeats. Then he answered, "Well...angry," he said. "Frustrated. Betrayed. Ungrateful wenches!"

                "Betrayed?" said Sam. "Betrayed is when your mother ignores your cries while she entertains a parade of men. Betrayal is when your first grade teacher ignores you to teach someone else the alphabet. Betrayal is Mrs. Hooper leaving Mr. Hooper to work a lonely corner store by himself while she tramps through the back alleys off that dark street called Sesame."

                "Umm," said John. "I think you're odder than me."

                Randy pointed his pen at John. "And how does that make you feel?"

                "Kind of relieved, actually," said John. "I was-"

                Everybody jumped as Cindy suddenly squealed.

                "Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!"

                A tall, leather-clad woman had Cindy bent over her lap. The woman was spanking Cindy's rounded bottom.

                "Stupid slut!" said the woman, her bare-handed spanks echoing. "I told you sweetener, not sugar!"

                "Ow! I'm sorry! Ow! Please stop! Ow! No more! Ow! Please!" said Cindy.

                Randy cleared his throat. "Mistress Fiona!" he said. "Please stop spanking Cindy! She is not yours to discipline."

                Fiona stopped suddenly, hand in mid-air. "Oh, dear," she said. "I am terribly sorry. I quite forgot where I was." She helped Cindy to her feet, giving her bottom a light pat. "There you are, sweetie. So sorry. You'll fix that coffee for me, won't you?"

                Cindy squeaked a reply and scurried off toward the coffee table.

                "Now that's the way to keep 'em in line, I say," said a voice. The speaker was a tall, dark-haired man. "Sometimes dames just need a little guidance, you know what I'm sayin'?"

                "Mister Fontanna," said Fiona, "don't you think that's a bit politically incorrect?"

                The dark-haired Italian grabbed his crotch. "Yo, I got your political correctness right here, sweetheart."

                "Oh, I'd love to get you in my dungeon, Mister Fontanna," said Fiona. "I'm sure I could eliminate your arrogance."

                "You just wanna spank me so you can touch my ass, sweetie," said Tony. "I don't blame ya, ya know what I'm sayin'? I mean, just check out these buns." He stood and pointed his bottom in Fiona's direction.

                "Tony," said Randy, "I think perhaps we should talk about what Fiona's saying. Have you considered that perhaps she's right? I mean, perhaps practicing a little humility wouldn't hurt."

                "Yo," said Tony, sitting back down. "You want humility? I'm a humble guy. It ain't braggin' if it's true, you know I'm sayin'?"

                "Humble?" said Fiona. "I suspect your victims wouldn't agree, Mister Fontanna."

                "Hey, they don't mind at all," said Tony. "I mean, yo, I'm just swelling up the puppies a bit, givin' 'em a little boost in the caboose. you know what I'm sayin'? Hell, they're grateful as all get out. They're all over my cock, you know?"

                Fiona spoke through clenched teeth. "Because you bimbify them, you-"

                Randy cut in smoothly. "Fiona is just suggesting that perhaps your, ahh, ability contributes somewhat to their enjoyment."

                "Well, yeah, I hope so," said Tony. "I mean, I'm not a dick or anything. I turn 'em into fuckin' wet dreams. They can get all the cock they want. Hell, they can even get some pussy if they want, you know what I'm sayin'?" He turned to Fiona. "You want me to send 'em to you, sweetheart?"

                "Mister Fontanna," said Fiona, "what amazes me is that you're actually serious."

                "Well, yeah," said Tony. "I'm not a dick, you know what I'm sayin'?"

                "You lack culture, Mister Fontanna," said Fiona.

                "That's not true!" said Tony. "I know poetry and stuff." He cleared his throat. "Hickory dickory dock...this chick was sucking my cock-"

                Randy shook his head. "Tony..."

                "What? What?" said Tony. "Those are words of deep culture from the poet laureate Andrew Dice Clay, Esquire. Yo!"

                Fiona's eyes became glaciers. "Oh, Mister Fontanna," she said. "How you would wriggle and cry like a little boy."

                "Go ahead and try, sweetheart," said Tony, "if you want a pair of knockers so big, they'll squeak like balloons every time you hiccup."

                "Your enema would be legendary, Mister Fontanna."

                "When you walk, your ass would look like two Volkswagen beetles racing."

                "People!" said Randy. "Please, let's get back on topic, okay?"

                "Not a problem," said Tony.

                "Of course," said Fiona.

                "Good," said Randy. "Now, how did that make you all feel? Can you-" Randy stopped suddenly and looked at the coffee table.

                "Cindy," said Randy, "what are you doing?"

                Cindy turned her head at Randy's voice. Her eyes were wide and unblinking. Then her shoulders turned. Her arms were bent at the elbow and her hands were open, but they were stiff and appeared locked in position. Cindy took two steps toward Randy. Her walk was jerky and she didn't move her arms.

                "I-am-get-ting-Mas-ter-Vir-gil-some-cof-fee-sir," said Cindy. She turned and took two jerky steps back to the table.

                There was a large wind-up key on her back.

                Randy sighed. "Virgil!"

                There was a burst of snorting laughter from the back of the room.

                "Virgil," said Randy, "what's the rule here about turning people into robots?"

                Virgil giggled. "I know, I know." he said. "I was just experimenting, that's all."

                "Virgil," said Randy, "you know the rules. No robotizing the staff."

                "Awww, it was just a little joke," said the bespectacled teen. "I didn't hurt her any."

                "Amateur!" said a tall, dark-haired woman. She turned to the red-headed, latex-clad woman next to her. "Steph-bot...bring me some coffee."

                The redhead rose smoothly and walked to the coffee table. Her hands moved rapidly and a cup of coffee was ready in moments. The woman turned and walked back to the woman who had given the order. The redhead then placed the cup between her impressive breasts. The Steph-bot squeezed her breasts together just tightly enough to hold the cup in place. She then leaned forward carefully until she was able to pour a small amount of coffee into the dark-haired woman's mouth.

                The dark-haired woman swallowed her coffee, then looked at Virgil with a smile. "That is how you make a robot."

                "Hmmpphh," said Virgil. "Big deal. My next robot is going to have USB ports and an SD slot."

                "Mine has a slot, too," said the dark-haired woman. "It's right between her-"

                "Thank you, Elaine," said Randy. "We've learned enough about robots today. Virgil, please remove your equipment from my assistant."

                "Awwwww," he said. "Why does Elaine get to keep hers?"

                "Because, Virgil," said Randy, "the Steph-bot didn't start the meeting as my assistant."

                "I never get to do nothin'!" said Virgil. Sulking, he stood and walked toward Cindy.

                "All right, I think this would be a good time for a coffee break," said Randy,

                Everybody stood up and stretched. A few headed over to the coffee table.

                "Wait a minute," said Randy. He looked at Elaine, who had coffee dribbling down her chin as she stared straight ahead, eyes wide. "Elaine? Are you okay?"

                Elaine didn't answer. Everyone gathered around her.

                "I don't understand," said Randy. "Is there something wrong with the coffee?"

                "Ummmm..." said Odd John. "Oops."

[ryverbind]

Faceless Fixation {Sal Fisher}: Bringing Vi to Life [2]

I watch Sally walk out of the door, trying to hold it together until his messy blue hair turns around a corner and finally leaves my field of vision.

How did this even happen?

The streets of LA are bustling and, still, all I can think of is his black clad figure—the only color on him being the sapphire shade of his hair—walking through and between people. But everyone else was just a shadow beside him. Zooming figures in my way. Blurs with no soul and no purpose but to burden others.

He's long gone now. Michael walked in just minutes after Sally disappeared. I'm forced to pretend that I'm ignoring the phenomena that just occurred as I wait tables and deal with customers that mean nothing to me.

Every inch of me burns to call Ash and quiz her about Sally's surprise visit. My muscles tense up in excitement when I think about it and my head throbs with tons of ways to tell her about what happened. My lips are chewed up and bloody, no doubt, just because I've been worrying over this since he walked through the door.

As much and as badly as I want to call Ash, I know that I can't. She would tell Sally that we met, for one. That's the last thing I want. Even if I asked her not to tell him, I'd be putting her in a compromising position if Sally and I were to ever meet as our real selves rather than this Lexi character that I created.

I'll just keep what happened today to myself. I don't ever have to tell anyone. It's my business anyway. I'll just deal with the consequences if it ever comes out that Lexi and y/n are the same person, which it will come out. With Ash, Larry, Todd, and I's friendship, we're bound to meet up again at some point. Not to mention, I'm planning on trying out this streaming thing soon.

Mine and Sally Face's meeting is fate no matter what fake name I come up with.

My day is boring and cruel. All I do is think about Sally's guitar pick hanging around my neck and the warmth in his bright blue eyes. I remember the way he complimented me, the way his ears turned pink with embarrassment, and all of the nice conversations we shared during his short stay in the diner. I still can't truly believe it happened. I'm honestly... mind blown.

I'm closing up tonight. It's about a quarter to ten and Michael is sweeping around tables as I count up all the money we made today. We close at ten, so we might as well finish our extra responsibilities now. Usually, customers are beginning to finish up at this time. We hardly ever have anyone walk in.

"Alright, y/n," Michael sighs, standing near the front door with his broom in hand. "I'm going put this up then I'll be heading out. You need any help closing this place?"

I smile at him. "No, don't worry about it! I shouldn't be much longer. I'll see you tomorrow."

Michael grins, pulling his apron over his head. "Awesome. See you bright and early."

He disappears into the back, then leaves out the front door just a minute or so later. So I wipe down the counters around me.

It's been a long day and I've been under a considerable amount of stress compared to other days. I'm so tired that I almost feel sick—I have a pounding headache and achy limbs. I almost want to skip work tomorrow and just take a day to myself—but taking a day to myself means losing a pretty $100 for bills at the end of the month. I'd rather not risk that, especially since I only work five hours tomorrow. What's the point of staying home if I won't be out too long anyway?

The bell on the front door jingles with a new customer and I almost groan out loud. I lean down, looking at my phone. We close in three minutes—why would someone do that?

As per my boss's request, if anyone walks in before closing, we have to sit them down and get what they need. I get it in a way, but for other workers like me who have taken a full day's shift, that's tough.

"I'll be right with you!" I say sweetly, scrubbing a spot on the counter despite my aggravation over having a new customer. I'm just ready to get home.

"No worries. Take your time."

I look up in a panic, making eye contact with a sweet, smiling gaze. Do my eyes deceive me? Even if they do, my heart surely wouldn't. It's beating so quickly that it almost hurts. And the sudden butterflies in my stomach make a queasy feeling slam into me.

I take a moment to reply, glancing over Sally who's randomly decided to show up again.

His hands are in the pockets of his black Larry merch hoodie, hiding away the edges of the beautiful tattoo I got to touch earlier. And as always, I can't see his face, but I can tell that he's at ease. Just enjoying his night and perfectly okay with waiting an eternity for me to get to him. Must be nice to not be in a rush all the time.

I gape at him for a moment, then blink. Quickly fixing my posture, I let a little smile pull at my lips as I walk closer to him. "Hey, Sally," I say a little nervously. His name is odd to hear but feels perfect leaving my lips. I can't even remember why I hated this guy at first. What did he say again?

"Hey, Lexi," Sally excitedly says, taking a step closer and leaning his weight against the counter. His hands never leave his pockets. "Sorry to come in so late. I won't be long, just wanted to come talk to you."

I tilt my head curiously, laying my washcloth on the counter. "What about?" I ask.

"Well, it sounds a lot better in my head." He laughs, finally removing a hand to push it through his hair. "Honestly, I'm considering just... saying something else. I don't talk to people often so this is..." he motions between us awkwardly then turns away, looking over at the front door.

I hum, biting the inside of my cheek. His words strike a bit of fear in my heart. Part of me wonders if, somehow, he found out about my real identity. But I know that's next to impossible, especially since Larry, Ash, and Todd haven't gotten a picture of me in years. "I mean, you can say anything. We're just two people in a judgement free zone. I'll never know what you were going to say either if you decide to say something else." I shrug, offering him a sweet smile.

Sally takes a shaky breath. "Yea, you're right. That's why I respect you, though. So, I might as well just do what I came here to do."

I shrug, pinching my fingertips in hopes to quell my anxiety a bit. "Up to you."

He turns his head, azure eyes meeting mine. His gaze slowly travels over every inch of me before they settle on my eyes again. Then, he sighs, resting his elbows on the counter behind him. His hoodie sleeve rides up his arm a bit, showing off an inch or two of the geometric, entrancing tattoos on his arm.

Drool.

"Can I have your number?" He forces out after a moment. He tilts his head nervously. "Like, I don't want to tell you I just want a good friend to talk to." Sally's voice is giggly, like he's extremely anxious. "I mean, I do want a good friend to talk to and you're a really awesome person. But I also would like to talk to you as more of a friend—" He pauses for a moment, then flinches, pulling his hands out of his hoodie in a flash. "But not like a hook-up kind of thing, I mean more of something that could turn into like a relationship over time." He sucks in a breath. "But you don't have to—"

I snort before I can hold it back. A hand automatically slaps over my mouth in shock and I feel bad for giggling. I pull my hand away just as quickly as it went up. "Sorry, I didn't mean to laugh. Your explanation was just... really cute." I giggle again. Why am I calling him cute? "Yea, you can have my number. I think you're amazing."

I wish I'd have thought about my response. It came naturally, even quickly like the words had their own nerves, cells, and ideas. I'm jealous of their confidence. At the same time, I truly wish I could take them back because how the fuck am I supposed to get away with my secret now?

But I don't worry about it too much because the excitement reflected in Sally's eyes is just worth it. Any fear or resentment I had left for him melts away and I wish to see his pretty smile more than anything.

I give him my phone number with no reservations for a moment, watching him type it into his phone. He brushes a strand of light blue hair from his eyes then looks up at me, tucking his phone into his back pocket.

"Thanks," he says. "Sorry if that seemed kind of weird. But, uh, I'll text you later?"

"Yea, that sounds good." I smile at him, pulling my apron over my head and setting it down on the counter beside me. My heart races a bit at the thought of him leaving already, but I know it has to happen.

"Alright," Sally says, chuckling softly. He just kind of stares at me for another moment, eyes flitting over my features before he glances down. 

I swallow thickly when his hand is suddenly in front of me. I flinch at the brush of his cold fingertips on my collarbone. My brain is overloaded as I gaze down at his hand, wondering what on earth possessed him-- when I notice the guitar pick between his fingertips.

It's extremely hard to ignore my heated skin and flushed cheeks while I watch him flip the pick between his index finger and thumb, his skin brushing against my chest with each slight, subtle movement.

"Didn't think you'd wear it," he murmurs. "I'm happy to see it."

When I look up, I'm sent into an endless night sky just upon simply gazing into his powerful blue eyes. The gold flecks littering his iris' look like stars lighting up the piercing blue that takes up my entire life for a moment. 

He's a lot closer than I imagined he'd be, so we both get lost in each other for a moment-- that much is noticeable. 

"It means... a lot to me." I say shakily, finding my small smile again. I'm still shocked by our unexpected proximity and, fuck, his absolutely gorgeous eyes.

I wish I could see his smile when he takes a step away from me and giggles lightly, a light pink dusting his ears and neck. "That's sweet of you. Anyway, I'll get going. I have a flight to catch early in the morning. Um, and I'll probably be playing with everyone tonight, so..." He tilts his head down, shaking his shoulder length hair away from his prosthetic face, but he still never looks back to me.

Compared to how much hate I felt toward Sally just a day ago, I actually feel quite infatuated with him now. He is so amazing. I shouldn't have jumped the gun. Maybe he heard something bad about me and that's why he was so hostile towards y/n. Maybe it's a misunderstanding that we'll have to talk about at some point. I'd prefer that over him just hating me because I'm... me.

"Oh, of course," I say cheerily. "Don't let me keep you, I was just about to close up anyway." Even though he's the one who walked into my diner and I am in no way holding him hostage. "It was so nice meeting you again." The more I talk, the more rushed it sounds and the more frantic I feel. "Thank you for being so kind to me. I'm happy to have connected with you." What the fuck am I saying?

Sally lets out a hearty laugh, patting my shoulder amusedly. But he keeps his hand there. "You sound like I did when I first walked in, Lexi." Oh, true. I'm not y/n at the moment. "Relax. I'm really happy we met, too. I'm looking forward to seeing where we can take our friendship."

I can feel the chill in his hands seeping through my thin shirt and the tightening of his fingertips on my shoulder. The same heat from earlier returns to my cheeks before he finally pulls away. "See you, Lexi!" Sally calls as he walks away and towards the front door.

I lean onto my tiptoes, waving to him. "Bye, Sally." The door closes and a weight that didn't exist just milliseconds ago drops onto my shoulders like 12,000 overweight cats. 

The reason I say cats is because the weight is very welcome (who doesn't love chunky kitties?) but it's also incredibly hard to hold up. I love the situation I've found myself in regarding Sally Face, but then again, he hates the true me but seems to enjoy this fake character I created out of fear. 

So, like, yea! Sally Face is totally into me, but he's going to catch me in a lie then hate me even more than he already does. 

He can dig my grave and spit on it too if he wants. Can't change my fuck up. I'm here and either way, shit's crazy at the moment. I might as well be crazy with the shit.

And then there's the fact that I gave him my phone number. There are so many issues with that stupid decision and I don't even want to think about the full list, but some reasons include, but are not limited to:

1.) Ash could totally match my phone number with the one I gave Sally.

2.) Did I forget to mention that I gave him a fake name?

3.) He fucking hates my guts.

4.) He's going to end up hating Lexi too because I highly doubt I'll ever be able to text him back after realizing what kind of shit-show I've become the main attraction in.

I could list so much more-- those are just a few.

Another happens to be my awful history with relationships. I'm not good at relationships. I've battled depression all my life, which just so happens to be part of the reason as to why my friends back in Nockfell haven't even seen a photo of me since I was a teenager. 

I was diagnosed with depression at fifteen. Things took a bit of a turn for me quite quickly. I had been fine beforehand, then my parents got divorced and constantly traveling between their homes made it hard on me. I didn't enjoy anything anymore. Life felt like a chore. I slowly began to distance myself from my new friends, only texting Ash every few days. Sometimes, I'd even go weeks without messaging anyone. I'd just wait for night to come so I could sleep again. So I could dream.

I actually enjoyed school growing up simply because it got me out of the house and kept me busy-- it was the only time that I didn't think about how fucking tired I was of living. 

So I've been taking antidepressants for about six or so years now. Life improved for me once I began taking medicine to help me out. I had a few boyfriends who introduced me to many things, but ultimately left my tiny little heart bruised and broken. 

Relationships never work for me. I've been cheated on, mentally and physically abused, and betrayed. Maybe it's trauma, maybe it's bad luck. Either way, I don't want to end up like my parents. I'm perfectly fine with living the rest of my life without ever having a significant other.

So Sally Face's phone number will be sent to my text-message purgatory when and if he decides to text me one day.

I grab all of my things and start walking back to my apartment. Dad should be home by now. He works all day and sometimes has to stay at hotels depending on where he is in California at the time, but he told me he'd be close by today.

By the time I make it to our apartment door, I can hear mine and Dad's favorite band playing. The sound is lightly muffled by our door, but I wouldn't mistake this band for the world. 

One of the things that got me through my couple years of undiagnosed depression was Breaking Benjamin. Dad showed me the band one day and my young brain fell in love with the sound, the instrumentals, and the lyrics. I have been obsessed with them since I was a teenager and a dream of mine is to finally see them in concert when I have the money to do so.

In fact, I have some of their lyrics tattooed on the left side of my chest, right over my ribs.

An excited smile builds on my face as I throw my front door open, instantly making eye contact with Dad in the kitchen. He waves a little spatula around, grinning at me.

"I know it's late, but--" He tiptoes over to me, speaking in a sing-song voice. "I made pancakes and bacon!"

The lyrics of my favorite song from their Phobia album, Unknown Soldier, quietly plays through our apartment with the sweet smell of warm pancakes to accompany the melody. Our balcony doors are open, letting in the sound of honking cars and laughter from the city below. It's dark out, probably about ten thirty in the evening. I can see all kinds of lights in the distance with just one glance.

My phone starts vibrating in my pocket and a squeak falls from my lips as my momentary bliss is interrupted. My heart thunders against my chest. Fuck, what if it's Sally calling me? I'll decline it. Instantly.

Gosh, I don't want to look at my phone. It's going to be so hard to decline the call mainly because I truly don't want to. In all honesty, I'd love to see where things could go with Sally but I'm in too deep with this lie and I don't trust my luck with relationships. He and I just shouldn't be. 

I watch my father for a moment, who raises an eyebrow at me before glancing at my noisy pocket. "You gonna get that, Ducky?" he asks.

Dad's old nickname for me always calms me down a bit. He only uses it if he can tell I'm nervous and need some kind of calm. It's a reminder of simpler times and he knows how much the name means to me. "I don't know. I'm kind of scared," I answer him honestly.

"Want to talk about it?" He asks, lifting up a full plate of pancakes.

I smile, finally growing the balls to pull my phone out of my pocket. I hold my breath and look down at the screen.

Oh, thank God. It's just Ash. 

The call ends before I can answer, so I make a mental note to call her back after I talk to my dad. 

"I met this guy and... it's a little complicated but I gave him my number. I don't really want him to call me," I murmur, locking my phone and putting it back in my pocket.

Dad snorts. "You know how that sounds right? You gave a guy your number but you don't want to talk to him?"

I roll my eyes. "Okay, yea. It sounds ridiculous, but like I said, it's a complicated situation that I really don't want to get into tonight. I have some things I need to do with Ash."

"Whatever you need, Ducks. I'm here to talk if you want. How is Ash, by the way? She and the guys still doing that online stuff?" Dad asks, stuffing a pancake into his mouth.

I hum, walking into the kitchen and grabbing a pancake for myself. Yes, I do eat them like a normal human-- on a plate with syrup, but I want to get with Ash as soon as possible so I'll be fine with just a plain pancake for now. "Yea. I'm actually going to try it out soon, too. They're really popular and making a lot of money. Look up Ash Campbell on Google."

Dad's brows furrow as he munches on a slice of bacon. "You're kidding." He pulls his phone out, squinting his eyes as he types. Then, his eyes widen and he hums. "Net worth $780,000. That's crazy." 

"Yea," I sigh, dusting my hands off over the sink. "You should see Larry and Todd, too."

"I'll go look them up now, hun. You let me know how that online stuff goes. I'm hoping it works for you." Dad sends me a smile then turns back to his phone.

I smile back and begin walking to my room as Anthem of the Angels by Breaking Benjamin comes on-- that's dads favorite song.

The sweet sound of instrumentals and a beautiful voice follows me through our apartment as I grab some clothes to change into. The music I grew up with fills me with a sense of nostalgia, taking me back to a place where everything was easy. I wasn't doing the same thing every single day. I wasn't living paycheck-to-paycheck. I wasn't on my feet all the time and hoping I made enough tips to pay my credit card bill for the month. 

It's nice to go back in time every once in a while, even if it's only through music.

When I walk into my bedroom, I grab comfy clothes then head over to my bathroom.

I pull my phone out again, clicking on the notification of Ash's call from five minutes ago. My phone rings for a singular second before a sharp shriek bursts my ear drums.

I flinch, covering my ears and quickly turning down the speaker. I'm sure my dad heard that.

"Y/n!" Ash exclaims. "I was kinda worried you wouldn't call back because I really want to ask you something but like I need and answer now--"

With a nervous giggle, I slowly remove my hands from my ears and pull my dirty work shirt over my head. "Sorry about that, I was just getting home and talking to Dad. Whatcha got for me, babe?"

Ash giggles maniacally, sending alarm bells off in my head. "Okay so how would you feel about jumping online with me and the boys tonight?"

I blink, my eyebrows slowly furrowing as gears turn in my head. She means all the boys. Sally Face told me he was going play with them not twenty minutes ago.

Am I ready for a step like that, especially after just having jumped a hurtle with him? Probably not. But I might as well just get the hard part of introducing myself over with, right?

Maybe he'll like this version of me like he likes Lexi. One can only hope.

"Um," I quietly murmur, chewing on my bottom lip. I'm nervous. I know nothing about streaming and it's been ages since I've used my voice to speak with Larry and Todd. But I'll have to try it out sooner or later anyway, right? Why not get it over with now? 

I ponder over the idea for a moment longer before finally saying, "I'll do it. Just don't tell anyone who I am-- not Larry, Sally Face, or Todd. Larry would spill the beans immediately."

Ash laughs sweetly. "You're so right about Larry," she says before squealing. "I'm so excited. This'll be so fun! I'm going to help you set everything up and explain how to record your videos and post and set up your microphone and all of that good stuff!"

I let out a shaky breath, a small smile pulling at my lips. "Sounds good. I don't have a good mic right now, though." 

"That's okay!" Ash says while I put on some sweatpants. "We'll figure that out with time. For now, go turn on your shit!!"

"Yes ma'am!" I chirp, saluting the air even though Ash can't see. I open the door and slide out of the bathroom with my socks and veer around a corner to my bedroom. "What are we playing?" I ask as I grab my headset and power it on. I have some experience with parties of people. Ash and I have played together plenty of times.

"We're playing Among Us on PC." I can hear some clicking from Ash's end of the line. "I just sent you an invite to join our channel on Discord. We'll start a VC from there."

I tilt my head, turning on my computer and widening my eyes. "What the hell is VC?"

Ash sighs, clicking her tongue. "My poor, sweet, technology deficient y/n."

"Hey," I murmur, pursing my lips as I pull up my new Discord account and log in. I see the invite, so I accept it, immediately being met with a few immediate messages between Larry and Todd.

"Someone has to tell you the truth!" Ash says matter-of-factly. "Anyway, the boys are probably pretty active right now. Todd and Larry have been bugging me about starting the VC."

"Will you finally tell me what a VC is, Ash?" I ask frantically upon noticing Larry's messages as they come in.

LARBEARAWR: dude who tf is VioletViolence

LARBEARAWR: did we get hacked

LARBEARAWR: do we need 2 start a new channel again

Todd comes in next, his texting style exactly the same as it was and has always been.

T0DDLES12: Idk, man. I wouldn't be surprised if someone found us out by now.

T0DDLES12: VioletViolence, who are you? Has someone hacked us and invited you?

I nearly choke on air when Sally Face pops into the cat. I'm horrified of things going wrong within just a few minutes of us officially meeting. Not to mention, him seeing me as a hacker isn't a good way for me to scoot into the group.

SALLYFʌCɜ: why the fuck would you talk to the hacker

"Oh... Ash they are going crazy. Please say something," I whisper with shaky breaths as panic and anxiety begin to settle in the pit of my stomach.

"Shit, I forgot to tell them about you. Hold on," She says quickly, her soothing voice taking a harsh edge as the sound of her quick typing echoes in my room. "Fuck, what do I tell them?"

"Uh," I wave my hands around and look around my room for something to help me come up with an excuse. All I find is a collection case of every season of Friends-- but it does give me a little idea. It's the best I've got. "Tell them that I'm your cousin's friend?"

I hear some more typing and a quick breath of relief, then Ash's message pops up. 

ASHYPOOO<;3: VioletViolence is my cousin's friend! Just trying to help her get on her feet :P She's a big fan and looking for a job. She has experience with gaming too so she's not a newb or anything

Unfortunately, at least for me, Sally responds immediately and the outcome is not looking very good.

SALLYFʌCɜ: ash wtf

SALLYFʌCɜ: we don't do new people

SALLYFʌCɜ: especially people we don't know

Ash scoffs over the phone and I peel my attention away from my computer screen, blinking away sudden tears. It's just because I'm really anxious, but I don't want to break down over something so ridiculously trivial.

But, as always, I'm lying to myself. 

I hate that a big part of my life is constant lies. Some of them are little white lies, things I've said for years. I'm fine. I had a good day. I ate lunch. But these recent lies are getting complicated and I keep coming up with and acting on them even though I know it's going to fuck me up in the near future. 

Karma's gotten my ass before. No doubt that it'll happen again. And this time is going to be awful.

"He's such a little ass. Always worried about bringing new people into the group. You're our first test trial, y/n." Ash sighs. Wow. Great. Can't wait. "If you look at the channels, you should see a section called Voice Channels. Click on the first one there and that's how we'll talk-- also, that's what VC means."

"Finally," I snicker, following her directions. "Okay, I'm in." I'm the only one in the voice call, clearly since I can't hear anyone else. 

"Awesome!" She chirps. "Now open up that screen recording app I told you about, log in, then press record. I'm going to hang up, but I will see you again in the VC in just a moment."

"Sounds good. Don't use my name, Ash," I mumble, focusing on setting up the recording app. 

Before I start recording, I wait for Ash to promise that she won't use my legal name, then I press record and go back to Discord.

Ash is online with me a moment later, then Larry right behind her.

"I'm cowering in a corner, Ash," Larry whispers. The sound of his voice in real time makes a beaming smile and excited shivers take over my body. "Who's this chick?"

I can't help but let a little giggle out at his amusing introduction. 

"Oh?" Larry's voice seems to perk up a bit. "A hot chick with a cute laugh?"

There it is. I roll my eyes and finally speak. "Hey, Larry," I start carefully. "I'm a big fan. Nice to meet you. Ash tells me a lot about you guys." I'm playing the role perfectly, I think.

An unflattering, hilarious, garbled sound comes from Larry's line. "Well, the pleasure is all mine, little lady." He chuckles a bit, drawling out some mumbles and poking fun at Ash. "So like, what's up with you?"

I struggle to hold back little laughs as I sit down in my chair and lean back. "Um." I shut my mouth when I realize I have nothing to tell him. What am I supposed to say for now? "Err--"

"She's from... Connecticut! She's... twenty-one and struggling with her job as... a bank-teller. She wanted to try something else so I offered to help her out." Ash saves the day and comes up with a lie so random and absurd that it sounds believable.

"Oh, cool. What's it like... counting numbers in Connecticut, little lady?"

"Larry, stop calling her 'little lady,'" Ash's thunderous, agitated voice makes me flinch away from my computer.

Larry gasps, feigning offense. "Gosh, fine, fuck, whatever, Ash! Just trying to be nice!"

"So this VioletViolence is not a foe?" Todd's deep voice makes another smile quirk my lips.

"I'm a friend, I promise." I laugh lightly. "It's nice to meet you, Todd. I've been watching you for a while."

"Pleased to make your acquaintance, VioletViolence," Todd formally and sweetly welcomes me. "Your name is quite a mouthful. We'll have to find a nickname for you."

I hum in response, thinking it over. "You're right. It's a bit much." I don't quite know how to shorten it down, though. We'll just stick with this for now I suppose.

I don't have time to prepare myself when Sally suddenly pops into the voice channel. I simply suck in a breath as his livid voice fills my ears. "Ash," he says angrily, "our agreement is to never let randos into the group, so why the fuck is this person here? And no, I couldn't give a shit less if this insignificant fan that you found online is witnessing this right now."

All of the memories I have of Sally crack. Just one more slip up and I'll forget them all. What is his problem with almost every version of me and why is 'Lexi' an exception?

"Sal, stop acting like that! I've met this person many, many times and I trust her. Stop being a dick. She's a fan of ours and she's practically family to me," Ash sticks up for me, arguing aggressively with Sally.

"You think I care? This is just a repeat of whatever went on with that y/n chick. I swear that bitch's aura follows me around every turn. I even heard her fucking name today. Now I have to deal with another?" Sally scoffs into his mic, his voice growing dangerously low and hostile.

I know he didn't just refer to me as a bitch.

I wince. He heard the right y/n's name today. He also met her-- but he doesn't need to know that. So what's his deal, then? Is he just overprotective of his group?

I jump into the conversation before Ash and Sally can argue any further. "Um, hey, Sally Face." My voice is soft and shaky. Anyone would be able to tell that I'm horrified. "I'm sorry if you feel that I'm impeding. I won't cause trouble and you guys never have to play with me again. I'm actually a big fan of yours--"

"I don't fucking care. I do not want you here," Sally's sharp, straight-to-the-point tone makes me flinch in my seat for what feels like the hundredth time tonight.

"Stop it, Sally. We don't need you being an ass, man. Come on," Larry tries to diffuse the situation, his voice a bit disappointed but soft, consoling even. "I'm gonna start recording so watch the shit you say. Be nice to Vi. She's just looking for a kickstart."

"There!" Todd exclaims. He sounds excited. "There's the nickname! Yes, that works great!"

A smile settles onto my lips again. I thought I'd lost it for good because of Sally, but Larry found a nickname for me.

Larry laughs, followed by Ash. Then he starts with his intro into his stream followed by Ash, Todd, and Sally. I just kind of sit there for a moment, waiting.

"Vi!" Larry's overexcited and comforting voice calls my nickname. I sit up, paying close attention to what he says next. "I'd like to introduce you to The Faces! Everyone, this is VioletViolence. She will be joining our game of Among Us today. I've heard some pretty good things about her skill, so let's see what she's got!"

The Faces. The group that consists of Ash, Larry, Todd, and Sally. I never thought I'd be included, even if it is just for one video.

"You heard him," Ash says. "Vi, why don't you tell us a bit about yourself?"

"Or we can just start the game?" Sally says, tone biting and dangerous. He's putting up a barely held up front for his viewers.

The crack in my new view of him finally breaks apart. My opinion of him is just as vile as it was before I met him in person and it takes a lot of willpower to stop myself from snapping at him.

"Well, I'd like to learn more about VioletViolence and it seems like my viewers would as well. They're wondering if your Twitch account is VioletViolence as well, by the way, Vi," Todd says, turning attention to me.

"Oh, yes!" I sit up quickly, pushing down the blush on my cheeks. "My Twitch account is VioletViolence, but I'm not streaming there at the moment. I'll be posting a video from tonight somewhere. Maybe Youtube."

"Okay, everyone seems to be looking forward to your video. If you need any help with Twitch, let us know," Todd sweetly says.

"Thanks, I appreciate it," I reply.

"So, tell us some fun facts, Vi!" Ash says excitedly. "What's your favorite color? Favorite movie? You know, just so we can get to know you!"

Smiling brightly, I settle into my seat and navigate my way around the loading screen of Among Us while I talk. "Well, my favorite color is actually violet. I love dark colors, especially purple. Um, my favorite movie is Rob Zombie's remake of Halloween. Big fan of Mike Myers."

"Yuck, Sally loves those movies, too! I hate horror," Ash giggles, fake-gagging. 

Laughing, I think about how lucky I am to have Ash before I talk again. I'll never have a friend as generous and loving as she is. "Makes sense. You're pink and upbeat. You know I had a goth moment growing up."

I feel like I'm going to vomit when I realize I've slipped up, but Ash saves me again. "Oh, true! I forgot to tell everyone, but Vi and I know each other! She's a family friend."

Thank the stars. Ash deserves love and success to last a lifetime.

"What kind of music do you listen to?" Larry asks, giving me some scary deja vu from earlier today. I guess I have to come up with a different answer from what I told Sally.

"I really like rock. My favorite band is Breaking Benjamin! I'd love to see them in concert one day." I keep my voice light and comfortable, pretending to be something I'm not.

"Oh, cool! I like Breaking Benjamin. They're pretty rad. I love the Celtic symbol they use as a logo," Larry says, sounding like he's genuinely interested. "Don't the members have the logo tatted on their wrists?"

I chew my lip, lifting my legs and holding them to my chest as I twirl back and forth in my chair. "Yea, as far as I know. I have their lyrics tattooed on my side, actually. I guess that's another fun fact."

"Oh, so you have tattoos, too? That's hot as fuck, bro." Larry starts giggling like a little schoolgirl. At that exact moment, I get a few notifications on my phone from Twitch and Youtube. All new subscribers. Shit.

"Only one for now," I say with a little laugh. "It says, 'Empty and perfect, shattered and worthless. Sober and silent, faded and violent. Never surrender, out of the embers.'" I debate on whether I should give a little more information about myself. "It's from the first song I ever heard by them called Never Again. It really stuck with me, I felt like I could relate."

"Those are some deep lyrics," Todd says. "Is that where you got your username from? The 'faded and violent' part?"

I'm shocked Todd noticed that, especially since I didn't notice it. "No, I've never realized it until you said that. I guess it was fate, huh?"

"That's so cute! I love how everything always ties together in the end," Ash says, her sweet voice making me grin. 

"Getting lyrics tattooed is kind of basic. You should've gotten something else." Sally's words are murmured and I can almost feel his nonchalant shrug like I'm doing it myself. 

"And being an asshole is really old," I fire back, letting my foot fall from my chair so I can bounce my leg. I'm really starting to get fed up with this guy.

Ash sighs. "Here we go."

Sally Face snorts, unamused by my retort. "You asked for the asshole side of me when you jumped in on what I do for a living. I don't even know you. None of us do."

"Ever heard of socializing?" I ask, tilting my head. "It's not impossible. It's not a bad thing either. I'm not going to steal your heat, man."

"You wouldn't be able to take any of my heat regardless," Sally laughs heartily. "I'm just ready for you to go back to what you were before we met-- insignificant."

For the first time since talking to him as VioletViolence, I smile at his words and I mean it. It's not forced, it found its way onto my lips of its own accord. No fighting, no issues. I embrace the smile because I know I'm an even match for Sally Face, and perhaps that's why he's already so upset over my existence.

I'm going to beat him at his own game.

My reply is instant. "You're not the only person in existence, you shrimp-dicked fuck nugget. Have some respects for others around you."

I start a new game of Among Us, feeling refreshed and rejuvenated as I finish our little argument with, "I win."

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

A/N:::::: I KNOW. THIS WAS LONG AWAITED AND I APOLOGIZE!!! Part of the reason as to why I haven't posted in a bit is because this story is still fresh to me! I have a general idea of how I want it to go, but finding and picking out directions for the plot is a bit hard! I'm still figuring out the content of chapters and what I'll do next. I'm also still getting used to writing smut and taking my time to learn how to write it better so I can give you guys the best that I can. We're still at the start, so hold onto the 'oh-shit-handle' and get ready for the ride! 

As always, I love you all with my entire heart. Sweet dreams/daydreams <3333

[underburningstars]

What about a starker soulmate au where name is written on their back (Ex: P.P. t.s) tony mistakenly thinks that pepper is his soulmate. He and her dated for years until she told him the truth. Tony found peter

Hope you like it anon.

on ao3

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Pairing : Tony Stark/Peter Parker

Tags : Soulmates, Not AOU compliant, Not CACW compliant, Minor Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Mentioned Bucky Barnes/Sam Wilson

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Tony considered himself an extremely lucky man. At least in the soulmate department.

When he was a kid, he couldn't wait to meet someone with TS written on them. Just like he had PP written on his back.

Meeting Pepper Potts was an absolute blessing. He couldn't have asked for a better soulmate. She was absolutely perfect.

Even when he was being a mess, Pepper always took care of him.

More so, after Afghanistan. Though she didn't support him being Iron man, Tony knew that it was because she was worried about him.

She stayed by his side even after New York and when Mandarin.

Tony always thought that even if he lost everything, he'd always have Pepper.

That is until that one fateful night.

"I found my soulmate." Pepper suddenly said.

Tony didn't understand the meaning of this conversation, "Yes? You did. I'm sitting right here." Tony's forehead furrowed in confusion.

"No, Tony. I-we, we're not soulmates Tony." Now that Tony thought about it, Pepper never showed Tony her mark.

Tony inhaled sharply, "What do you mean, Pep?"

"Tony I'm sorry. I just-I love you Tony. Even without the soulmate name. And-and I knew it was a big thing for you. I shouldn't have hidden it from you. I'm sorry for that. I found my soulmate Tony. And I want to form a bond with him." silence filled them. None of them knew what to say anymore.

"Pep, you should leave today."

"Tony, please-"

"We'll talk tomorrow. Maybe. Or better, we wouldn't talk about this at all. Let's just pretend that you never lied to me and this is a normal break up because you found your soulmate. Technically, it's true in your case." Tony got up and went to his lab, leaving a crying Pepper alone.

That's exactly what they did. They never talked about it ever again. Pepper moved out. And they still talked about SI related stuff together. But that's it.

Tony started drinking more, much to Rhodey and Steve's displeasure and worry. But eventually, he pulled himself together.

He had to. He was Iron Man after all. The world wouldn't wait until he was over his disastrous breakup.

Steve found his extremely unstable hundred year old best friend. Tony created BARF to help him go from unstable to semi-stable.

With Barnes, Sam came too. Soulmates, a package deal. Good thing Sam was useful and funny. Tony liked him.

Steve thinks they should expand the team, with the increasing amount of threats and creative villains they're falling short. Tony agrees.

Steve brings Wanda, whose powers need working. So, Tony creates a practice arena for her. That melts her icy nature towards him.

Tony is looking for recruites too. More specifically, he is looking for a onesie wearing web slinger from YouTube.

The web slinger, it turns out is called Peter Perker (his name has PP too, his brain supplies, but Tony has stopped believing such simple things already), lives with his aunt, is a junior in Columbia, he's perfect.

Peter, as Tony understands after meeting him, is absolutely brilliant. But he lacks a considerable amount of sef preservation. Not that Tony's anyone to say that. But he never said he's not a hypocrite.

So he makes Peter a suit. Something that'll protect him from bad guys and also from himself.

Although he totally should've seen this coming, Tony didn't. He never expected to strike a friendship with Peter. But the boy's a genius and Tony can talk to him for hours without getting bored.

The only problem is the way Peter looks at him. It would be fine if it was a crush. Really, a bit of hero worship is acceptable.

But the extremely fond look in Peter's eyes say that it's much much more than simple hero worship.

The even bigger problem. It's that Tony wants to look right back at Peter in the exact same way. He wants to pull the boy close, kiss him, hold him and sometimes (often) bend him over the desk.

Tony knows he could just ask Peter what his soul mark is. Peter would tell him without a second thought. If Tony heard it from Peter that his mark isn't TS. That the PP is yet again, another coincidence, then he could just let go. But he doesn't have the courage for that. He doesn’t want to know. Doesn't want to get hurt anymore. So Tony doesn't ask him.

In the end, to save both of them from getting hurt, Tony does what any wise man would do. He avoids Peter. He stops coming to their Kab hang outs (dates) and doesn't patrol or go to missions with him any more.

Nat sometimes looks at him with narrowed eyes but to his great relief doesn't say anything.

This goes on for a month, which is longer than Tony expected, before Peter ambushes him one day. Since it's not lab day, Tony didn't expect Peter to come. And JARVIS, that traitor, didn't even warn him.

Now he's cornered in his own lab with an angry looking Peter Parker standing in front of him.

"Why are you avoiding me?" Peter asks.

"Who's avoiding you? I'm not avoiding you." Tony can see Peter's eyes twitch in annoyance.

"Tony, I'm not kidding. Why are you avoiding me?" Peter glared at him.

"I'm not avoiding you, Peter. It's just-I'm busy these days. With SI and Iron Man. I just couldn't make much time." Tony can see that Peter saw right through his bullshit.

"Oh yeah? Yiu have time to watch movies with Clint and go to the arcade with Wanda. But you're too busy for me, huh?"

"Uhh..."

"Really Tony, just-" all fight leat Peter's body as he deflated, "tell me why are you doing this? Is it my fault? Did I do something wrong?"

Tony's heart clenched at how tired Peter sounded, "No, Pete. It's-it's me, okay? I'm the problem here. So don't blame yourself."

"Then talk to me, Tony. Let's fix it. Please, I miss you." Peter whispered the last part.

"Do you know why me and Pepper broke up?"

Peter looked confused at the change of topic but replied anyway, "Yes? She found her soulmate?"

"Yeah, she did. But before that for all the years we dated I thought Pepper was my soulmate. We're both to blame. She never corrected me and I never asked for clarification. But yeah that's what happened." Tony could see realization color Peter's face, "Yes, Pete. My letters are PP. It's just that-you're so wonderful and I don't want to get rejected onc-"

"Ask me what my letters are?" Peter cut him off.

"What?"

"Come'on. Ask me. Ask me what my letters are?"

"What are your letters Peter?" Tony sighed.

"It's TS." Tony froze.

"What did you say?" to answer Tony's question Peter moved his collar a bit and there tony could see it. The TS written in bold letters.

"So, are you not gonna kiss me to-" before Peter could finish the sentence, Tony's lips were on his.

[theggning]

So one interesting wrinkle in Rise from the Ashes that I never see discussed is the implication that Jake Marshall and Lana Skye were romantically involved.

Now, unlike another ill-fated AA pairing I’m a fan of, this is never really established as a romantic relationship. But there are a LOT of subtle implications that suggest Jake and Lana were more than coworkers at the time of SL-9.

(Deets + tragic theorizing below.)

- Because RftA was added onto the first game for the DS release (after the rest of the trilogy had already been finished for GBA,) the writers intentionally made parallels and references to the rest of the trilogy within it. Ema and Lana are clearly meant to be a twisted mirror of Maya and Mia. And per Janet Tsu (English localization director,) Jake Marshall serves the role of Godot in the Skye sisters/Fey sisters parallel. (In fact, the reason he is a cowboy was to differentiate his characterization from Godot’s.) This by default puts Jake in a position of being romantically close to Lana.

(I fuckin’ love Godot and I also fuckin’ love Jake, so this parallel makes a lot of sense to me...)

- Ema is familiar with Jake when meeting him for the first time. She calls him “Mr. Marshall” before he ever introduces himself to Phoenix, and Phoenix remarks that it seems like they know each other already. (By contrast, Ema doesn’t know who Angel is, nor Bruce Goodman, the other SL-9 investigators.)

- This line, early in the first conversation with Jake:

Marshall: I'm afraid your sister's fate is decided, bambina. Many condolences.

Ema: Officer Marshall!

Marshall: Yeah, bambina?

Ema: H-how can you say that! You and my sister, you were...

Phoenix: (Is there something between this cop and her sister that I don't know about?)

Marshall: ...! I apologize, bambina. Something must have gotten to me. Maybe it's that dry wind that's a-blowin' through the Prospector's Office.

(Love that Jake seems to have a soft spot for Ema, and relents when she calls him on his apparently callousness towards Lana’s situation.)

- This exchange with Angel, in which Ema is very concerned about what’s going on between Jake and Angel:

Ema: Um, Ms. Starr...? Officer Marshall... is he your... uh, are you his...? Are you g-g-g-going out!?

Angel: Why do you want to know?

Ema: I was just wondering what happened to him?  A long time ago, when he was helping my sister do cases, he was so nice. He got along so well with my sister, it made me jealous. And... he was nice to me too, back then.

Phoenix: (This would be when Officer Marshall was a detective.)

Ema: But now... now he's so cold!

Angel: ...Jake and I are merely cooperating on this investigation. We're putting the past to rest, as it were. Nothing more than that.

Ema: I... I see. Thank you.

- Angel also dishes a lot of spicy gossip about Jake and Lana in the aftermath of SL-9. Most of it revolves around how Jake, especially, really went through it and how his pain in particular seemed to drive Lana.

Angel: Poor old Jake Marshall, though, must have been going through hell.

Phoenix: You mean, because of his brother's death?

Angel: They were close, those two. After Neil died, something took over Jake. He became obsessed. Seeing Jake like that made her all the more desperate.

Phoenix: "Her"...?

Angel: Lana Skye.

And then there’s THIS particularly intriguing bit:

Angel: When Jake's brother was murdered, she felt as if she had lost her own brother. If it wasn't for her, I don't think Jake would ever have recovered from his shock.

Angel: That's what makes it all the more infuriating.

- This one is a reach, but Lana seems perturbed that Phoenix is bringing up Jake as a suspect on day two of the trial.

Ema: In order to defend my sister, you're going to accuse Mr. Marshall?

Phoenix: We have to play the cards we're dealt. Isn't that right, Ms. Skye?

Lana: ... Do what you have to do, Mr. Wright.

- After receiving her orders from Gant to move Goodman’s body, the first thing Lana did was call Jake.

Lana: The truth is, after I received those orders from Chief Gant, the first thing I did was make a phone call. A phone call to Patrolman Jake Marshall.

Phoenix: To Marshall? Why on earth would you call him?

Lana: The lead investigator for the SL-9 Incident had been murdered. I wanted that fact to be kept hidden, and I needed help. He was the only other person I could trust. Or at least, I thought I could trust him at the time.

Lana: However, it seems that after I spoke to him he went off on an escapade of his own...

Lana says she never expected Jake to do his renegade evidence room cosplay plan, but attributes it to how much he’s “changed” since SL-9 ended. But the fact remains, she called him in the first place because on some level, she trusted him to help her.

- Actually, both Jake and Lana talk about how the other one “changed” in the aftermath of the incident, in a way that feels particularly personal to me. (Angel also makes this observation about the both of them.)

So to me, it seems like there was a period of time after Neil Marshall’s death where Lana was trying desperately to support Jake (while simultaneously scrambling to end the case to cover up Ema’s involvement.) Things only really fell apart after Joe Darke’s conviction, the other investigators noticed how fishy the conviction ended up-- to Jake, that someone had tampered with his brother’s body and the circumstances of his death. Lana, of course, is falling under Gant’s manipulations, and can’t risk the truth coming out.

Now, regardless of their past status, any relationship of any sort Jake and Lana had is unquestionably, decisively over. Jake is clearly extremely bitter towards her, Gant, and the prosecutor’s office in general, and Lana’s newly cold personality is impenetrable to everyone, even her own sister. They refer to each other only by formal titles.  They only interact face to face once in the case: the moment at the end of the second trial where Jake demands Lana look him in the eye and tell him that SL-9 was concluded legitimately.

Even after the truth comes out, I don’t know if Jake and Lana’s relationship is reparable. I can’t even say I think they’d be any good for each other anymore (though tbh if somebody wrote a fic where they try to get closure or end up drawn back together by reflex... I’d read the hell out of it.) To me, the most fascinating potential of Jake/Lana is in their breakup, the severity of the tragedy that tore them apart. 

Like damn. Picture Lana, desperate to cover for her sister, getting further and further tangled in Gant’s puppet strings. She’s forced to cheat and lie about the death of a man she saw as “her own brother,” and to keep on lying no matter how much it hurts Jake. She’s forced to sacrifice her relationship with him for Ema and turns into this cold, outwardly heartless person-- and she can never risk telling either of them why.

Meanwhile Jake is heartsick and distraught over Neil’s murder. Then he watches the woman he loves pulling away from him, refusing to answer his questions, and seemingly coasting to success on the back of her shady behavior. He feels utterly betrayed, and getting demoted in the aftermath only adds insult to injury. With nothing left but seething rage, he lingers for two years, ever-determined to find the truth around his brother’s death.

It’s a fascinating conflict of two brothers and two sisters, and the lengths they’ll go to for one another-- and possibly, how a relationship between a man and a woman crumbles in the balance.

[xxiamtiebrousxx]

Fresh Page (Garfield! Spiderman x Male! MJ)

A/n: I think I might've accidently deleted the original post, oops!

The world had gone dark.

It worked. The spell had worked and the Spidermen and the cured villains had returned home.

Somewhere Peter three had dreaded.

It was the anniversary of Gwen's death. Even though Peter was able to prevent someone from suffering the same fate, it still broke his heart.

He was unable to move on.

As the world slowly came back, Peter found himself on the rooftop from before. Before Parker One's spell had brought him over, he was swinging and running through Queens, trying to get back home on time. Aunt May needed help refurbishing her home and was staying at Peter's apartment.

"Ugh, I'm gonna be late," he said, looking at the sunset. Peter's home was just around the corner, but there was no way he was going to appear in his room dressed as Spiderman! So he began to change out of his costume, into his civilian clothes as he ran down the fire escape. "Shoot, shoot, shoot, shoot!" He leaped off the ramp, sticking his spider suit in his bag, landing on the ground in his hero pose.

"That was so cool." Peter looked up. A man about his age with red hair and green eyes smiled at him. He held onto the straps of his backpack. Peter blushed.

"Uh thanks?" he replied.

"Do you do parkour?" the stranger asked. Peter nodded hesitantly. "Nice."

"Uh, who are you?" Peter asked, standing up. The stranger smiled.

"I'm Michael James Watson, but you can call me MJ," he replied.

"Parker, Peter Parker," the hero said. "It's nice to meet you, MJ." MJ smiled, blushing a little.

"So, where are you heading?" he asked.

"Oh, I was just trying to get home," Peter replied. "What about you?"

"I'm trying to get home too," he said. Peter's face lit up.

"I could walk you, if you'd like," he offered.

"That's so sweet," MJ said. "I live in the apartments across from 20 Ingrams street."

Peter chuckled, "I live on that street!" MJ smiled wider.

"Well neighbor, let's getting going." MJ grabbed Peter's hand, happily walking along the sidewalk. All the while, Peter began to converse with MJ, asking questions. MJ answered them. They talked about the little things. They talked about the big things.

Peter began to feel better. Gwen would love seeing him so happy. She'd want him to move on.

"We're here!" MJ and the super hero stood at the apartments' entrance. "I'll see you soon," MJ said. "Goodnight."

"Bye," Peter replied. MJ entered the apartment, leaving Spiderman standing alone. He turned around and walked home.

"Where have you been?" Aunt May asked as Peter entered.

"I walked someone home," he replied. Aunt May placed her hands on her hips, trying to act mad.

"Well next time, walk them faster," she said. Peter chuckled softly. May's expression soften. "I can't stay mad at you," she said, embracing her nephew.

"I love you," he said, hugging her tightly.

"So, who's the lucky girl, or guy?" she asked, pulling away. Peter blushed.

"Uh, his name is Michael James Watson, but he likes to go as MJ," Peter replied. "And how'd you know?" Aunt May smirked.

"Sweetie, aunts know everything," she replied.

"I guess that's true," he said. "I think I might have s chance."

"If you do, I'd take it now," Aunt May said, waking into the kitchen. "Who's knows what would happen if someone got to MJ first." Peter looked out the window. There was no way he was going to waste his chance.

"I'm taking the leap," he said.

"Good luck!" Aunt May exclaimed. Peter dropped his bag and left the house. He crossed the street, found an empty pizza box and entered the apartment.

"It's pizza time," he said, placing the box on the counter. The receptionist looked at him.

"Who's it for?" she asked.

"Michael Watson," Peter answered.

"Go ahead, second floor, first door to the left."

"Thank you," he said. Peter picked up the box and took the elevator to the second floor. The doors dinged and he took a left, knocking on the door.

"Hello Peter," MJ said, opening the door.

"Hi," Peter replied. "May I come in?"

"Of course!"

With a fresh page opened, Peter Parker was happy once more.

A/n: I hope you liked it

[dameronology]

last request (tasm! peter parker)

summary: based on the song last request by paolo nutini - mostly the lyrics "sure i can accept that we're go no where, so one last time let's go there"

warnings: language, very very minor alludes to smut at the end but honestly it's literally nothing, and angst!!

honestly this has been collecting dust in my drafts for about fifty years and i only just got around to editing it. enjoy <3

- jazz

It would have been a feat to admit that your relationship was over.

That took a lot of courage - and alcohol - but you and Peter Parker were nothing if not stubborn bastards. It was one thing for you to admit when something else was going wrong, but it when it was something as exponentially signifiant as clinging desperately onto the person you loved most in the world, the stakes were a little higher. Maybe if you could just hold a little tighter, for a little longer, then things would just...they would be okay. They'd be how they used to be. Not reduced to something as juvenile as the first years of your relationship from high school - flirting in physics lessons and passing notes in homeroom - but just before it was this. Before you saw the beginning of the end; before Peter felt like a stranger in your bed.

There had been a time in your life where Peter Parker wasn't just in you future, but he was your future. You could look at him see your entire world right there in front of you; tufts of soft, chocolate hair and curious brown eyes that creased with laughter at the smallest things; an iodine stained lab-coat with red-and-blue spandex ever-so-slightly poking out the top. You'd fallen in love with him when you were young and your lives had become so deeply intertwined that you were near enough one entity. Little pieces of you, and little pieces of him, flittering about in one messy, giddy existence.

College had been a breeze, somehow. If anything, that little bubble of what's next? that lead you through those four years had protected you both from questioning the future too much. It was a blessing in disguise and before you knew it, you were in your early twenties with degrees and an apartment. Peter had to learn how to do his own laundry and it had taken you the better part of three months to remember to pay rent in time. Still, it was a process you had learnt together and it only brought you closer.

Then adulthood...happened. It pulled you in a million directions; left, right, forward, back, but somehow never in the direction of Peter. Meetings and events and work calls that kept you occupied til the evening, making it home in time just to give him a quick kiss before he went out for the night. You'd leave for work just as he was stumbling back in.

Your lives had always been on the same path; it was winding and bumpy and occasionally dark and scary, but Peter was always there to hold your hand. Now, he was distant. Or maybe you were. Depends on where you stood.

Your priorities weren't the same anymore. You wanted to focus on your job and make it as far as possible; Peter had turned his attention solely to his responsibilities in the city. Your paths were diverging and you could only ignore it for so long.

So long wasn't that long at all, it turned out.

It was terrifying, actually; the way your kisses became so forced, so clinical. There were no more deep conversations about the meaning of life or where your future was headed. Now, you barely spoke a word to one another, aside from the obligatory how was your day? and stay safe!

You told yourself it was just a rough patch - all couples went through that, right? That idea made it seem temporary, at least.

If you hadn't been so certain in your soul that Peter would never stray away from being Spiderman, or that you would forfeit your dedication to your goals, then maybe you would have believed it. Maybe, just maybe, if the fate of your relationship didn't rely on the integral things that made you, you and Peter, Peter.

At some point, you'd torn away from one another. That existence you'd forged together had divulged into two and left gaping holes in the individuals it had left behind. Neither of you could heal them so as long as you tried to force yourselves back together, but it was like two puzzle pieces that no longer fit.

You could only handle so many missed plans and we'll do it next week's; missed calls and sleeping on opposite sides of the bed. The love was still there, wholly and undoubtedly, but it didn't do for much when it was a ship set to wreck. All you could do was get out and save yourself before it went down.

"I think we should break up."

Peter was innocently stood over the kitchen sink eating a pot noodle when you made the announcement. He turned to face you, noodles dangling from his mouth with wide eyes. Why had you said that? Why hadn't had you even thought of saying it.

"What?!"

"I..." you paused, trailing off. "I love you, Peter."

He tilted his head. "I'm getting mixed signals here - you're joking, right?"

"No," you shook your head. "Not about the first thing."

He threw his dinner into the sink, spindly arms reaching out for you in an attempt to grab you. You just about dodged him, stumbling back onto the sofa, foregoing any kind of dignity. That was the time in weeks he'd tried to touch you.

"You can't say something like that," Peter said. "Why would you say something like that-"

"- because it's true!" you cut him off. "Look at us, Pete. We're strangers."

"You're not funny," he replied. "This isn't funny. Don't make jokes about that stuff."

"It's not a joke," you looked him dead in the eye.

Peter dropped beside you on the sofa - his brow was creased in some sort of...smiley frown. He genuinely, wholly thought this was a joke. That you'd decided to just spice up his evening by calling an end to your relationship.

"Sure, okay," he nudged you with his elbow. "Let's break-up. I'll take the apartment, and you can take the cat."

He reached out to you, large hands splaying out on your cheek-bones as he gently leant in. You whacked them away, a sigh escaping your lips. You wanted to kiss him - you really, really did. To just fall into his arms and forget this was all happening; pretend that things were fine. It's what you'd been doing the last few months and if you continued any longer, it might finally have killed you.

"Oh my god," Peter murmured. "You're serious."

"Yeah," you softly said. "I am."

"W-why?" he stuttered. "We don't break up. Other people break up, but...it's us. That's not something we do."

"Pete," you sighed. "I know. I know. I've gone over it a thousand times in my head and if you can look around right now and tell me that we're still ourselves - still the us you mean -

"- why do we have to be that us? Can't we be a different us? Maybe this is...grown up us, the new us."

"If that's the case, then I don't want it."

"You don't want me?" Peter's voice broke and along with it, so did your heart.

"Pete...hey."

You reached out for Peter, wrapping your arms your waist. He didn't resist, even though you'd just put his heart through the shitter. Instead, he buried his head in your shoulder, clutching onto you for dear life. Maybe if he held tight enough, you wouldn't let him go.

"Just listen to me for a sec - please?" you softly asked, tangling a hand in his hair. "I will never not want you, Peter Parker. You're my entire fucking heart but we're...we're stagnant."

"Stagnant?" the world rolled off his tongue with complete disbelief. "We used to talk about the future. We have an apartment, and-"

"- used to, Pete!" you cut him off. "We used to. We're not any further along than we were five years ago. All of our friends are getting married and having kids and we're just...we just exist."

"But it's us," he shot back. "We just need each other, don't we?"

You gave him a sad smile. "We don't have each other. We haven't for a long time."

"You have me," he dropped to his knees in front of you, hands falling into your lap. "You have all of me-"

"- no, I don't!" you snapped. "The last few months, we've just been going through the motions and niceties with each other because it's all we know."

"I'll do anything," Peter continued. "You wanna have kids? I'll have ten. You wanna buy a house? I'll get the newspaper right now and look at listings. Hell, I'll move to the suburbs-"

"- stop!"

You shoved Peter off of you, brushing past him and letting him fall onto the sofa with an oof. He had only begged for one thing in his life, and that had been to the non-existent Santa Clause when he was eight years old for his mum and dad to come back. He'd felt like he was drowning then, but this pain was incomparable. It was like someone had taken his heart right out his chest and thrown it out out the window of the tenth floor.

The silence that overtook the room after your demand was thick. It weighed on your shoulders and his, threatening to force you both into the ground. The crushing realisation that you couldn't be with the man you loved had hit you like a truck. More so for Peter, who realised now what an idiot he'd been to shut you out.

Your eyes met across the room, and Peter finally nodded. Maybe it was acceptance. Maybe it was defeat. It was just...confirmation. That he knew you meant it. That he knew you were right.

And is the crushing weight of impending doom had suddenly evaporated, something in both of you snapped.

There was another moment of nothing - then he stood up and crossed the room. You met him halfway across the room, arms tangling together and lips crashing onto his. It wasn't like the last few times you'd kissed - not deadbeat, not tinged with grey misery and lacklustre love strangled by domestic bore. It was fresh and new and...it was goodbye.

Peter pulled back for a second, large hands resting on your face. "One last time, yeah?"

You smiled. "Yeah."