#sight. i have NEVER been someone that people can love without changing a significant part of myself

[olliecoded]

dude. i am such a fucking selfish piece of shit.

[coffeewithastraww]

This past year I’ve learned a lot of new things about myself. I try to stop every once and a while and make time for myself so I can do that but I feel like these last 6 months have been very eye opening, significantly more than the past. When I moved to Wisconsin I isolated myself to a point where I didn’t think about my friends or the people I left behind. My thoughts were clouded because I only thought about how I was going to better myself and “this time was going to be different” when in all reality I focused on that mindset I wanted to be in so hard that I lost sight of the things that actually mattered. I wanted something so badly I stopped caring about the steps I needed to take in order to get there I just tricked myself into thinking I WAS there.

Looking back I think that was a step I needed to take though in order to make myself realize that my friends aren’t my whole life. I was always so reliant on them and every choice I made wasn’t my own, every thought I had, every opinion. Living with my boyfriend who is very independent has taught me that I need to be as well, I need to ask myself if I like how I’m handling a situation and if I don’t then I change my outlook. Or I change the way I’m doing things because I’ve learned to value my own opinion which is something I’ve never been able to do before. I look at each person who I’ve looked up to in my life and am so grateful. Randi taught me self discipline, if I spent too much money I save it next time. I’ve learned to tell the truth more often and with that, I like myself more. Josh taught me to have confidence in more things I do so I don’t ask for opinions anymore and I do what I want, to an extent wasting no time in between. Aunty Linda taught me to take no shit from people and life is too short to worry about whether or not people like you. She taught me only god judges and there is love everywhere you look. I find art and beauty in the world again and that’s because of her. Autumn taught me that if you want something you have to work for it and it doesn’t matter how others see you along the way. Haley taught me to quit apologizing for the things I love. My dad taught me how to control my anger and irrational way of thinking, sometimes things just are the way they are and you can’t change it. Donovan taught me how, and still is teaching me how, to overcome my fears and let things go that are hurting me. Without even trying he taught me how to love someone so unconditionally and so healthily without any toxicity once so ever. He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Riley taught me how to stick up for myself and be the person people come to for advice instead of the other way around.

Each person I have in my life has a significance to me. Each person has taught me a new thing, showed me a new song, gave me a memory I hold close to me, changed my way of thinking. But when I really stop and think about it I need to give myself a little more credit where it’s needed. I’ve built this lifestyle and these friendships and this way of thinking. And most of all I’ve built these morals that have made me who I am and that alone is something I am proud of. I’m done asking for validation I trust myself again. All that needed to happen for me to open up that part of myself is to take a little break up here living with Donovan and away from my friends to be able to give myself that credibility.

[thisisawonderfulusername]

almost normal - the apocalypse

five hargreeves x reader

summary: being pregnant in the apocalypse probably isn’t the greatest thing.

warnings: cursing, pregnancy, no baby yet, that will come in part two ;)

word count: 2.1k

a/n: yall asked for it, and i felt like i could do better, so here is your time in the apocalypse after finding out that you’re pregnant and following this we will have a commission chapter and when they get to twenty nineteen. reading the old a/n that i put here is making me realize how long this took me to actually write 🤡 anyways, this is basically what the original was but focused on the apocalypse and much, much more detailed. i’ll stop now, please enjoy!

being the daughter of two people spontaneously born on the first of october in nineteen eighty-nine, you had been gifted with special abilities, just like them. over the years of your life, they were able to teach you how to control these abilities.

by the time you were thirteen, you were able to create an invisible barrier around yourself. of course, it happened unintentionally at times.

one of those times, it protected you at the end of the world. how you wished it hadn’t for the first few years. but you surprisingly weren’t the last person on the face of the earth.

-

you stood on the doorstep of your home- or what used to be your home. it had crumbled to the ground when the explosion wiped out the entire city, leaving a pile of rubble. it was surrounded by the other houses in the neighborhood, some of which still stood as the flames continued to burn.

this isn’t real.

you pinch your arm so hard that it stings for a few moments afterward, and you start shaking your head. “this isn’t real.” you tell yourself, voice shaking with the fear that this might not be a nightmare.

stepping back from your home, you turned on your heel to run to the closest house that hadn’t collapsed yet. mr and mrs peoples. you didn’t knock, bursting through the front door and rushing through each room that fire was beginning to engulf, searching for any sign of the old couple.

when you got up the stairs and to their room, you stopped dead in your tracks. on the bed, their charred bodies lay next to each other, and you feel your eyes beginning to sting- from the smoke and from what was happening.

the city.

there must be people in the city.

you dash down the stairs as they threaten to collapse, sprinting out of the house and down the road as fast as you can. the route you’ve remembered from walking to school, the one that brought you through the crowded sidewalks.

by the time you get to the most populated part of the whole town you lived in, you’re out of breath, chest rising and falling quickly.

“help!” you shout as loud as you can, starting to walk through the streets, trying not to focus on the buildings that hadn’t made it, the burned bodies on the ground. “please! there has to be someone.” the tears that had threatened you begin to fall, running down your cheeks.

when you get farther down, you see what you think is a real, live person, searching the rubble surrounding him. but you can’t be sure. there’s smoke and your vision is blurry from your tears. “hey!” you shout, beginning to run towards the figure as fast as you can with your labored breathing.

he turns in your direction when he hears your voice, eyebrows raising in surprise. when you stop just before what used to be a building. “please-” you suck in a breath, “please tell me you’re real.”

-

he was the only reason you managed to survive. you knew now that you never would have made it this far without him.

ten years.

you’ve made it ten years so far, and the only reason the both of you keep going is each other- as well as his hope to find the right equation to get you back to your normal lives in twenty nineteen (and saving the world but that could be discussed later.)

until then, you could try your very best to make an almost normal life for yourselves.

after the first few years of moving across the city- and probably into other states as well, you couldn’t tell for sure- you had grown to have feelings for him. you didn’t know if it was because you two were the only ones left on earth, but you didn’t care. you wouldn’t want to choose anyone else to survive with.

eventually, after a few drinks to celebrate the finding of some wine, when your face was flushed with the alcohol in your system and your brain slightly fuzzy, you ended up kissing him.

the next morning, you woke up cuddled next to him, the empty bottle to your side. it brought butterflies to your stomach, and when he woke up after you, you had summoned the courage to tell him how you felt. you were lucky enough to know that he returned the affection.

you were nineteen then, only six years after the end of the world. and for another four years, you had been together.

on the third year of being together, pushing for survival, you found an old jewelry store.

-

“do you want to get married?” you call out, eyes squinted slightly from the sunlight and the strain to see him properly.

he turned at your voice, brushing his hands off on his pants. “what?”

grinning, you step over the wall. “i said,” you stop in front of him and reveal the bands, “do you want to get married?”

his eyes fall on the rings and he stays quiet for a moment, before he looks back to you, and your smile grows at the sight of his own.

“in the apocalypse?“ he chuckles softly.

you shrug your shoulders. "we can’t make it, like, official, but if we ever get back…” you press your lips together for a moment, “i think it’ll have more meaning, since we found them here.”

he seems to think about it for a moment, before he holds his hand out to you, and you clap your hands together from the joy you felt.

when you got stuck here at thirteen years old, you didn’t think you’d have anything close to a normal life. but after a few years, you realized that you could try to make it as normal as possible for yourself.

you slide one of the rings onto his finger, the sun’s light reflecting off of the gold. it’s a silent moment, and you could feel your heart beating faster than usual.

once it is snug on his finger, he takes the other from you, taking your hand. “i never thought i’d be getting married in a wasteland.”

chuckling, you watch as he gently puts the ring in it’s rightful place. “i don’t care where we get married. it would be perfect no matter what.”

five looks into your eyes, and you know that you wouldn’t have this any other way. as long as he was with you, you don’t care where you are or what the situation is.

“i love you.” you mumble quietly, bringing your hand to his cheek as you stare into his eyes.

“i guess i love you too.”

you roll your eyes, moving the hand behind his neck to pull him into a loving kiss.

-

now, it’s been about four months since you’ve ‘married’ five. it didn’t change much about your life, but you could feel that you had a newfound hope. even though you were stuck in an unforgiving world, foraging for food and clinging onto survival, you had five with you.

and now it felt like no matter what happened, he would stay with you. maybe, if you ever did get out of this hell, it could happen for real. that kept you going.

there have been changes, though. for the past three months or so, your ‘time of the month’ never came. at first, you brushed it off. this had happened before- stress could delay it, so you figured that was what it was.

but then it didn’t come the next month, either.

this month, you were beginning to notice a small bump in your belly. you told yourself it could just be you gaining weight from the food you ate, but you couldn’t fool yourself. you can’t eat enough in this world, especially not enough to gain significant weight.

and so the worrying began.

you didn’t tell five at first, keeping the anxiety to yourself as you continued on your treks through the barren land. you would chew on your lip as you walked, and it got to the point where you broke through the skin and it had bled for a bit.

he noticed, but you didn’t know that.

on your next stop for shelter that you would stay in for a few weeks to search for supplies, he brought it up.

-

“are you okay?” he questions, and it catches you off guard for a moment.

you look up from the book that you had found in the wreckage of an old library. “uh,” you hesitate for a moment, “yeah. yeah, i’m fine.”

trying to get away from his questions, you look back down to the pages of the book as if it would stop him from continuing. from the corner of your eye, you can see how his brows furrowed together.

he was quiet, but only for a moment. “i’ve noticed, you know.” the statement causes your heart to pick up it’s pace a bit, and you hope he can’t see the fear and nervousness that has overcome you.

“noticed what?” you gulp, not daring to look up from the page. you don’t know if it’s the cold air around you, but your eyes are stinging.

five stands from the makeshift seat he had taken on a fallen pillar, moving to your side and sitting in the dirt that was protected from the snow. “you know, you can tell me anything. whatever is wrong, you can say it.”

the book closes as you release it, falling to the ground at your side. “i-” you notice the shakiness in your voice, and you pause for a moment to take a deep breath, “i don’t know how to tell you.”

his arm falls around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. it’s something that has always comforted you, even in the worse days, and he knows that. he knows everything. “just say it.” he tells you softly.

you close your eyes for a few moments, pulling your knees to your chest as you gulp down your fear. “i- i think i’m pregnant.”

a tear that had escaped your stinging eyes rolled down your cheek, and you quickly wiped it away on the sleeve of your sweater. it was in vain, as shortly after there were more drops falling down your face.

his momentary silence worries you, and you think if there was a way to screw up everything you've built here, it was this.

“how would you know?” he questions quietly, and of all the questions he could have asked, you think that might be one of the best ones.

sniffling and abandoning the attempt at getting rid of your tears, you take a quick breath. “it’s been a few months since my last... you know,” you begin to explain, avoiding looking at him, “and i’m pretty sure my belly is... getting bigger. and it can’t just be me gaining weight because we don’t eat much.”

you hear him let out a slow breath, and when you look at him in fear for his reaction, he seems to be staring off in thought. you bite on your lip as you try to keep yourself from crying anymore. “five?”

“we’ll figure it out.” he tells you after a moment, and you take in a shaky breath from the statement. “we’ll find a way to make it work.” he runs his fingers through your hair, “we always do.”

his sweet reassurances make your heart skip a beat. it’s unbelievable to you, even after all of the years you’ve been with him.

“god, i love you.” a small sob escapes with the words, but the tears don’t truly show how you feel. you’ve never been so happy.

you’ll get part of the normal life you always wanted as a child. a family.

you were only able to relish in the moment for a few seconds, because five suddenly jolted forward, scaring the life out of you as he grabbed onto the shotgun leaning against one of the walls.

your head turns to where he is pointing it, you saw a woman. but it wasn’t just any woman, no. she wasn’t dressed for the apocalypse like you. she had a clean, properly fitted dress and high heels, her makeup perfectly done.

who the hell is this?

taglists

main: @horrorklaus @megasimpleplan4ever  

tua: @rasberrymay @noodlextrash @atomicpillar @malfovs  @andreasworlsboring101​  

five taglist: @anapocalypseinmymind @five-hargreeves-official @insatiable-ivy @coffee-e-addict @xplrreylo @fandomfreakff @colie-babi @flowertoty @avovada @badwolf00593

[lostinthewiind]

Piss Off Your Parents - Part 8

Ukai Keishin - Haikyuu

Synopsis: freshly turned 18, you want to prove to your parents that you aren’t a child for them to push around anymore. First, get a job at the local corner store. Second, use the store owner’s 26-year-old son with piercings and a cigarette addiction to piss your parents off. Third, accidentally fall in love.

Rating: PG13

Warnings: none

Song → 18 by Anarbor

Previous → Part 7

Next → Part 9

Feeling a body shift beside you, you slowly began to wake from your deep, dreamless sleep. With thin rays of sunlight shining through the crack between the curtains, you let a content, sleepy smile toy at the corners of your lips as you rolled over in Keishin's arms and came face to face with his sleeping form.

It had been over a week since you had started staying with Keishin and even though waking up beside someone every morning definitely took some getting used to, you were a little surprised by just how quickly it was beginning to feel normal. Not only that, but you never slept better than you did in Keishin's bed with his warm, calming presence beside you and strong, protective arm draped over your waist.

Eyes closed and lips slightly parted, Keishin was fast asleep. His chest rose and fell rhythmically and at some point during the night, just like every other night, his hair—which wasn't tamed by the headband while he slept—had gotten all messed up and a few strands had fallen into his face.

Whenever you woke up before him, you would always take the chance to just look at him. While he slept, he seemed completely and utterly at peace—no longer burdened by the stress of coaching volleyball, working at the store, and no doubt whatever extra problems you had brought into his life. You thought back to the time you had watched him sleeping on the couch in the back room and sighed happily; the thought of how much things had changed in such a short period of time truly putting things into perspective.

Unable to keep your hands to yourself any longer, you reached out slowly and brushed the loose strands of hair out of his face and tucked them behind his ear—the same way you had done when you two had first had sex and the same way you had done countless times since.

Keishin could sleep through a thunderstorm or the sound of you calling out his name, but as soon as he felt your fingertips graze against his cheek, his eyes fluttered open. Upon noticing he was awake, you made your touch more prominent and caressed his face.

"Good morning," you whispered, unwilling to raise your voice any more than that and ruin the soft ambiance of the early morning.

Keishin leaned into your touch and smiled softly. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing," you answered as you ran your thumb along his bottom lip, internally debating if you should ambush him with kisses now or wait until he had woken up a little more first. Chuckling to yourself over your own thoughts, you caught yourself staring at his lips and directed your gaze back to his eyes. "I'm just looking at you."

Keishin scoffed as he pressed a gentle kiss to your thumb. "Why?"

"Because you look so beautiful when you're asleep," you told him matter-of-factly. "Not that you don't always look beautiful," you added quickly before he could make some sort of sarcastic comment.

Keishin rolled his eyes before pulling you flush against his chest and kissing you. "You're such a sap, you know that?"

You laughed. "First, I'm dramatic. Now I'm a sap. What's next?"

"I have no idea." Keishin shrugged the best he could while lying down. "What I do know, however," he glanced at the clock, "is that we need to get up and get ready."

Following Keishin's gaze to the time, you huffed sadly when you noticed there were only five minutes left until your alarm would go off, forcing you to get ready to open the store. "Can't we just stay in bed all day?" you asked, hoping you could convince him to stay under the covers with you.

"Not unless we want to go broke and end up living under a bridge together."

You chuckled as Keishin crawled out of bed, the temptation of slapping his ass gently when he stood up almost too much but you managed to control yourself. "Together?" You grinned. "You'd stay with me even if we were both dirt poor?"

Keishin rolled his eyes playfully at your takeaway from his statement. "Of course." He collected his clothes before making his way around to your side of the bed and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "But I think I like plumbing and heating too much to give them up, so let's shower and get ready."

Sitting up in bed, you cocked an eyebrow. "You want to shower together?"

Keishin flashed a devilish smirk as he headed for the bathroom. "Purely for the purpose of saving water." He disappeared into the bathroom and seconds later his boxers flew out and landed on the floor, indicating he was completely nude. "But if you hate the planet, then I guess that's on you."

Your cheeks flushed red but nevertheless, you swung your legs over the side of the bed and began removing your clothes as you approached the bathroom. "Sure," you laughed as you closed the bathroom door behind yourself and let your eyes wander over Keishin's wet, naked body as he stood under the steaming water. "If it's for the planet, how could I possibly say no?"

20 minutes of passionate kissing and soapy hands exploring every inch of each other's body later, the two of you towelled off and finished getting ready before sitting down for a quick breakfast together.

"So the volleyball team has a game today, right?" you asked Keishin as you poured milk into your bowl of cereal. Keishin nodded. "What time do you think you will be home?"

Keishin thought for a moment before answering. "Probably around six or seven tonight. The game is right after school so it shouldn't run too late."

"Okay." You sat down across from him at the table. "Should we get dinner after I close up the shop?"

Keishin nodded again. "Sounds like a plan."

With a few more bites of his breakfast, Keishin was setting his dishes in the sink, pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head, and rushing down the stairs and out of the building to start his day.

As you listened to his footsteps stomp down the stairs, followed by the sound of the back door opening and closing to indicate that he had left, you sighed to yourself and sat back in your chair. It was then that you took a minute to think about everything; your job, your boyfriend, your living arrangements, your tattered relationship with your parents. In the span of a few months, your life had completely turned upside down, but that wasn't the part that freaked you out the most.

What really got you thinking was the fact that, even though your life had done a complete 180, you had never been happier; which led to the constant internal questioning about if you had ever really been happy before you had met Keishin at all, or if this was just a different kind of happy—a happy that only a stable, supportive significant other could provide.

Before you had the chance to get lost in your thoughts, you snapped out of it, finished your breakfast, and headed downstairs to open the shop and begin your day.

As usual, you dealt with the typical morning rush of people stopping in to grab a coffee or other various food items on their way to work or school. Once the mid-morning slump hit and the customer traffic went way down, you took the time to do some routine cleaning and inventory. By now, you were like a well-oiled machine when it came to the daily task of running the store.

Around noon, as you were finishing up stocking some shelves, the front door opened and a very well-dressed man strolled into the store. "Hello," you greeted him, standing from where you were kneeling in front of the shelves and dusting off your pants.

The man gave you a once over, eyeing you from head to toe. Without so much as an acknowledging nod, he brushed past you and toward the full-length fridges at the back.

Assuming the man just wasn't in a chatty mood, you took the empty boxes to the storage room. When you exited, the man was already standing at the front counter, impatiently tapping his foot while he held two bottles of water in his hands.

"Sorry for the wait," you apologized. "Just the waters today?"

The man just nodded and let out a grunt.

Trying not to take his dismissive attitude too seriously, you rang up his purchases and gave him the total. Instead of pulling out his wallet, however, he just gave you a dirty look.

"That's a little expensive for two bottles of water, don't you think?" he retorted.

You didn't know what to say to that, so you shrugged. "I'm sorry, I don't make the prices, sir," you told him. "I just work here."

Huffing loudly, the man fished his wallet out of his back pocket and pulled out some bills before tossing them haphazardly onto the counter. "Fine. Don't forget my change."

Before you could open the cash register, the front doors opened again and a woman dressed in a beautiful dress with her hair done up elegantly walked in and stopped beside the man before you. "Have you paid yet?" she asked the man, who was either her boyfriend or husband based on the way she was hanging off of his arm. "I just realized I'm out of cigarettes."

"I'm just paying now," he told her, his face softer than you had seen it yet before he turned back to you and asked for the brand of cigarettes that his partner smoked.

Spinning around, you felt your stomach twist at the sight of the empty dispenser of cigarettes, meaning that you were out of the brand he had requested. Of course, the delivery for that day hadn't come in yet, making your job even harder right now.

Plastering the warmest smile on your face that you could muster, you turned back to the couple. "I apologize, but we are all out of that brand. Can I get you something else?"

The woman rolled her eyes. "No, everything else tastes like garbage."

"I see." You stepped back up to the cash register. "So just the waters then?"

The man nodded. "I guess so if your shitty little store doesn't even stock up on popular brands of cigarettes." He watched you intently as you opened the register and counted his change. "I knew we should have stopped somewhere other than this hole in the wall."

As much as you so desperately wanted to rip this man and his spoiled girlfriend a new one, you bit your tongue instead and grinned as you handed him back his change. "Here you are." You dropped the coins into his outstretched hand. "Have a wonderful day."

Neither one of them said anything in response as they turned on their heels and marched out of the store, noses turned up at everything around them. As you watched them get into their fancy car and speed away, you wondered if they treated everyone like that or just lowly corner store workers like yourself.

Trying to let the incident slide off of you like water off of a duck's back, you returned to the remaining tasks on your to-do list and tried to forget all about being treated like a second-class citizen.

As the day turned to late afternoon and the after-school and after-work rush hit, you had found your way back into your groove again.

An hour or so before closing time, and roughly around the time Keishin would be returning, you heard a pair of heels clacking against the tile floor and stood up front behind the counter only to come face-to-face with your mother. Dressed in a pencil skirt and blouse, it was obvious she had just come from work, but your attention was more focused on the envelope she was holding out to you.

"This came for you the other day." She didn't even bother with a simple greeting even though it had been weeks since you had seen or spoken to her or your father.

"Oh, okay." You reached out and took the envelope from her. Turning it over, you felt your heart jump into your throat when you read that it was from the University of Tokyo.

You looked up at your mother expectantly but she waved you off. "Don't ask me what it says, I didn't open it," she said, folding her arms across her chest. "Why didn't you tell your father and me that you applied to the University of Tokyo? It's a very good school."

"Because I didn't do it for you," you said as you tucked the envelope into your back pocket. "And I certainly didn't do it to go to law school or anything you guys would approve of."

Your mother narrowed her eyes at you. "Then why did you do it?"

"To play soccer," you answered, your mind immediately going to the conversation you had had with Keishin while taking inventory together. "And because I told someone I would."

Your mother eyed you for a minute more, waiting to see if you would reach for the envelope again to open it. When you made no indication of sharing your application results with her, she hummed softly. "Well, whatever that letter says, you should take some time to seriously consider what your next step is going to be." She turned to leave but stopped halfway to the door and looked at you over her shoulder. "It's not too late to make the right choice. Think carefully before you throw your life away."

With that, your mother exited the store, leaving you with a mixed slurry of emotions and no clue how to deal with any of them.

Pulling the envelope out of your back pocket, you set it down on the counter in front of you and stared at it. Whatever was printed on the single piece of paper inside would set a course for your future . . . although you were unsure if you even still wanted the future that this piece of paper could give you.

All you wanted was to be happy, and all you knew was that Keishin gave you that.

Anything more felt like asking for too much.

Anything more felt like a gamble that wasn't worth the risk.

[astro-pioneer]

I can't stop thinking about knight!Dain only protecting one person of royalty that he loved and they both get cursed-

yeah, wrute it ❗😃

Your Sword and Shield 『Dainsleif』

The royals were the highest priority - "Protect the heir above everyone else" was his only direct order as the Twilight Sword. But yet, when the gods descended and destroyed Khaenri'ah while he did as ordered, both got punished. And now, both search the world for the other. | We Will Be Reunited spoilers | Angst to fluff (somewhat)

Oh lordy anon I just- ugh. This has been marinating in my thoughts ever since it was revealed all because I thought of ball dancing with him. Plus Dain is a beauty of a man who would treat you right and no one can tell me otherwise. This went a different way then how I thought of it but that's just because I can't properly write my thoughts lmao. Yikes I got tired of this for some reason lmao I'll do a part two that focuses more on (Y/N) travelling with Aether after the whole shebang happened so stay tuned for that (:

The Twilight Sword's job was to protect the nation and population of Khaenri'ah. But, at the same time, it was also to put the heir of the royal family first, as he was a royal guard first and foremost. It was so conflicting and, no matter which choice was made, there would always be a negative aftermath. Dainsleif was aware of that and told himself that he'd never allow his personal feelings influence his actions.

He lied to himself.

Soft music travelled through the big, barren room. Only two people were in there. They didn't perform any exaggerated movements like someone normally would doing a dance, but instead bathed in each other's company. "Darling, I feel as though there will be war in the near future with the gods and us. When that time comes, please put the citizens before me." If only the couple knew how near that future would be. Maybe he wouldn't have lied to his lover, too.

That following night, the blond watched as the curse bestowed upon him just moments ago spread from their back and up their neck. Just to spite Dainsleif even more, the gods made it spread down their left arm, the opposite of where it went on him. The pained screams of the other filled their heads, echoing whenever a moment of silence comes onto them.

Looking back at it while waiting for Aether to meet back with him from talking to Boreas, he realized just how twisted the incident was. He did his job as a royal guard; he protected the royal he was assigned to. After all, orders given by superiors always overruled the ones you originally had. And yet here Dainsleif was, donning a cursed arm and no luck in finding his lost eternal companion.

(Y/N) was somewhere in Teyvat - somewhere in Mondstadt, and the archons be damned if they don't expect him to tear apart this nation to find them. But, before all that, he has to accompany the outlander and his child companion to inhibit another one of the Abyss Order's plans.

"The first Field Tiller," a person donning clothes similar to those Dainsleif wears whispered to themselves, "forced to sit and face the reason it's origin was destroyed." They, too, turned to where the machinery was facing, gazing up to the floating island. "Celestia..."

The breeze erupting from the still harsh wind barriers of the ruins hit their face, causing them to close their eyes and enjoy the moment for a while. "Your creation was the topic of multiple people's conversation for a long time, Tiller, my family being no exception. I remember watching you in action; you flattened an area the size of these ruins with no damage. But, when mass produced after your success, the other machines were much weaker and less efficient. Perhaps that's why we fell under the threat of the gods." They spat out the title like it was venom. "If only they took more time with the future models and made it more like you, we would've been able to set them all loose into the battlefield.

"And yet here I stand in front of you, talking about all the 'what if's instead of a 'what now?' and acting like I can go back and change what happened to us. There are two other people from Khaenri'ah in this nation, but one wants to stop what has become of my people and the other is conflicted on the original orders given by someone I do not know of. While I do not know what to do. My darling is fighting the Abyss Order, and perhaps that is the rightful path. After all, this world has changed, and only a small few are not dependant on the Seven. That rules out trying to recreate Khaenri'ah. Besides, no one would react orderly to a nation without a god, and the citizens of that nation would refuse to work with the land ruled by the Seven. A war would break out all over again. Besides, my people have gone so far down into whatever madness they fell in that they probably do not remember what it originally was."

They knew nothing would be near to listen to their vocal thoughts, but yet they stopped in favour of silently reminiscing. The scent of despair, corruption, and bloodshed was nearing, and yet they didn't move. "Perhaps I've prolonged our reunion for far too long..." A smile that showed the pain of 500 years of torture appeared on their face.

Paimon held her hands to her face as the trio got closer to the Field Tiller, "Oh, Paimon's got a bad feeling about this..." And yet, they still went in, stopping at the Statue of the Seven before Paimon stopped them again. "Wait! Who's that person?" She gasped then, "Are they a part of the Abyss? Are they here for the eye?"

With one look, Dainsleif knew who it was. "I can assure you, that person is one of the last people you can expect to be a part of it." He tore his eyes off of them, turning to look at the concerned face of Aether and scared Paimon. "Well then, let us go check." To believe he allowed his front to drop just enough for Aether to catch. He clicked his tongue before leading the way up.

(E/C) eyes with primogem-shaped pupils revealed themselves to the world once again. The same as those of Dainsleif, Aether connected. "(Y/N)..." The taller blond breathed, forcing himself to not go over immediately. Who knows how much they changed in the 500 years they were separated?

"Hello, darling. I wish we could've reunited under less life-altering events, but..." The rest went unspoken but the two knew what they meant. "I do not know if the eye is still in here, but this is indeed the Field Tiller."

Paimon gasped, pointing a finger. "How'd you know what we were looking for?!" (Y/N) arched an eyebrow at the floating companion.

"An abyss mage left behind a talisman which was presumably meant for one of his superiors. It spoke of the Guardian of the Vortex and a "Defiled Statue" as well as the Field Tiller's eye. But yet, despite being reassured I'm not a threat, you still assume until given proof. That's good."

"'His'? I've never heard of someone use those pronouns for abyss mages. Or any, now that I really think about it." The smile was melancholic and filled with sorrow Aether only saw in the reminiscent ones of Venti and Zhongli. Paimon understood to drop the subject. "Anyway, use elemental sight to see if the eye is in there!"

Dainsleif's and (Y/N)'s capes waved in the breeze as Aether couldn't find the eye. It was on there, however. When it was extracted, (Y/N) couldn't help but analyze and compare it to the other tillers they themselves looked inside of. However, they didn't dare touch it or disagree with the decision to leave it with their significant other. A gem gleamed in the sunlight.

"Would you like to go with us (Y/N)?" For the first time Aether talked to them. "We're going to the place with the Defiled Statue if you were interested."

And just like how Dainsleif agreed to join Aether for any commissions with the Abyss, they looked into his eyes, "Sure." It was when they started the trek from the waypoint to the cavern that the two finally interacted fully. "I'm glad to see you're safe," their voice was the same tone they held when they spoke of the war of Khaenri'ah, going miles while their words only spoke of their feelings. Corrupted hands interlaced together for the first time.

[blindbeta]

Different anon here! I have a character who's blindness is incident related, but it's been several years since then and the story isn't heavily focused on his trauma (or at least that specific trauma, as he has others that aren't related to blindness)

This was before I knew injury-based blindness was a harmful/potentially harmful trope though, so now I'm worried that I'll have to rewrite his backstory entirely to avoid writing about experiences I don't have, or pushing any harmful tropes that are already pushed far too much.

What do you think? Could I still use that as part of his story without focusing too much on that specific traumatic event, or do you think it's better for me to discard it entirely?

The Accident Narrative/Going Blind Through Trauma trope and How to Make It Better - (I’m just calling it that because I don’t know if this thing has a name)

My problem with this trope - and the problem many people have with it- is very specific. I’ll try to break it down for you so it is easier to understand. My problem is basically with the execution.

Characters go blind unrealistically often from traumatic accidents in media. Mainly because it creates a lot of drama, which is fair, if cheap. It is also a good story starter if the story will be about them being all sad that they’re blind. These stories usually focus heavily on the blind part rather than the trauma part, and they paint blindness as the worst thing that can happen to anyone. Including death. Sometimes the character grows out of this feeling and sometimes they don’t.

The way you portray this is what changes the narrative.

I like that your story takes place several years after the incident although how well it is done will depend on the portrayal of the resulting blindness. Blindness can be tough, but avoiding considering the incident a tragedy that ended his vision could help. Not having too much of a woe-is-me attitude toward it will also help. Starting the story years after the incident creates beneficial distance.

With this in mind, the story won’t be - about - him going blind and then adapting and possibly being sad, possibly not sad about it. That would be a type of story that is probably best left to blind people who lost their vision later in life. Your story avoids this issue by starting the story well after the incident occurred. When you said you didn’t want to write about something you hadn’t experienced, to tell a story that wasn’t yours to tell, this is what you want to avoid. If you aren’t writing about going blind/being blind, you’re good, at least for this question.

So, you have avoided writing about the experience of going blind (and having that be the focus of your story) and starting the story at another time so your character can have some distance from his trauma. Your story will not be showing your character tragically losing his sight and learning to adapt. -dramatic sniffle-

The other part of this ask that really works for me is the part about focusing on different traumas. It sounds like the character is going to have more to them, and the idea of the Blindness Trauma being not as significant as other more recent traumas sounds good and true to life. It also takes the focus away from any implications of blindness as particularly tragic and all-encompassing. Your character will expirience different things just as anyone else would. Focusing more heavily on other things in his life is a good idea. That, coupled with the distance from the initial traumatic incident makes it okay with me.

What else can you do?

Here are a few other options for you or other readers who are writing incident-related blindness:

1. Have them focus on the traumatic incident itself rather than the resulting blindness.

Yes, going blind can change your life. It can be scary and someone may need to grieve their vision loss as they would any other major change. However, this doesn’t have to be the dramatic take-up-an-entire story thing either.

If you decided to write flashbacks, you can show the character mostly dealing with trauma, with blindness as a reminder of it. This puts the focus on the traumatic incident itself healing from trauma rather than trying to heal from blindness. When sighted people write about this, it comes out as awkward, not relatable, and impossible to separate voice-type things - like worrying about never being able to marry - from the authors own opinion or worries about blindness.

Focusing on the trauma of say, extreme injury can help with that. It is important to make a distinction for the reader, who usually goes in not knowing much about blindness and conceptualizing it as one of the worst things that could happen to them. Make it as clear as you can that the character is upset due to trauma rather than being devastated their life is over because they are blind.

2. Have the trauma happen off-screen / have them not remember it much due to young age

It sounds like this is also what you’re going to do. You could mention the traumatic incident briefly, without too many dramatic details. A few descriptive sentences should be enough. You could write it for reference and only take a few samples from it you liked. This keeps the focus away from drama for drama’s sake. It also disrupts the usual narrative, putting you farther away from the Accident Narrative or trope. You could simply have had the character be too young to remember much detail.

3. Add more blind characters

This one is good for any story. You should always trace your logic for topics like the one you presented or consider how to do things better, but one easy way to avoid readers thinking all blind people are like your character (which they might), you can add another blind character or more who were born blind or went blind at a very young age. Who don’t struggle with being blind generally. This exposes your readers to more ideas of blind people.

When your story is standing on the line between nuanced character and meeting a stereotype, you should absolutely have at least one other if not a few blind characters. In fact, I would be surprised if a story like this didn’t have other blind characters and, if I were reading this story randomly, I might even feel less forgiving or open to what was different about the Accident Narrative this time.

Thank you for asking this question. It is kind of challenging to answer and I had to rewrite this a few times. Basically, you want to do what you can to disrupt the usual portrayals of blindness because there are actually so few and most are made by people who aren’t blind or even disabled. You cannot make this trope or stereotype go away, but you can try to shake it up. Because this can be done differently, to avoid writing about adapting the tragic blindness, I am ok with this type of story.

I don’t know if this one is harmful exactly, but it is frustrating to see and can certainly lead to some harmful ideas, such as blindness only being tragic even when someone was born blind. I have a review coming up for a book called Blind that might be helpful, as well as a post called Tropes I’m Tired Of that I hope will help. Your ask definitely helped me consider more ways this trope could be made more bearable and concentrate on what exactly I dislike about it.

All that said, this is not a post encouraging people to use this narrative in all their projects. Only if you feel like it is necessary and fits the character. I would like for this trope to be less common than being born blind or going blind in a way that isn’t so dramatic and, possibly, abrupt. When most characters go blind through traumatic accidents it contributes to people’s idea that blindness is not only traumatic for anyone at any age, but also cannot be anything but a tragedy.

I really hope this helps. Of course, I would really encourage a few different sensitivity readers with this story. Just to get different perspectives. There is another blind person who also offers sensitivity reading at @sensitivityreaders and it might help to get them or someone else, in addition to me. Because I would love to read this sometime.

-BlindBeta

[tittytania]

Finding ChristBorg: A TED talk about what happened during the Coldharbour Compact.

Reposted from my tes reddit bc I want to see what y’all think.

I can't tell if I'm a genius, completely insane, or if I'm just late to the lore-party. Time to find out I guess. TL;DR at the bottom.

So it has never been explained what Sotha Sil did during the Coldharbour Compact to convince the daedric princes to not manifest on Nirn without an intermediary, and it probably never will be since the mystery of it all is far too cool. But that doesn't mean I can't read into it like literature and look for meaning in the other texts I can compare it to.

To start, Vivec is based off of the Shakta variation of the half female/half male Ardhanarishvara, where the gold-skinned female half is the right side. Both Vivec and Ardhanarishvara represent unity and duality, and looking at some images of Ardhanarishvara, it's kinda hard to argue that Vivec wasn't based off of them. Kirkbride even confirmed that Ardhanarishvara was the inspiration for Vivec in an AMA. Now, Vivec is part of the god trio the Almsivi Tribunal, along with Almalexia and Sotha Sil. Shiva, who Ardhanarishvara is the avatar of, is also part of a god trio, called the Trimurti in Hinduism. So it would make sense if the other members of the tribunal are also based off of one member of a real world religious triad. I have a shaky idea of who Almalexia could be, but my theory for her god-inspiration is nowhere near as solid as my theory for Sotha Sil, who I believe is based on Jesus Christ.

To start, their characterizations have multiple similarities. Both are one branch of a god-triad, with Sotha Sil as part of the Tribunal, and Jesus as The Son in the Holy Trinity. Both serve as a teacher, with Jesus being referred to as Teacher several times in the Bible, and Sotha Sil giving lessons on magic and Mysticism to the Psijic Monks. Also, both are characterized as wise, patient, and celibate. They both talk about moral and philosophical concepts with their followers, neither Jesus nor Sotha Sil are shown as having a temper or raising their voices, and neither of them are shown with a spouse or partner. Sotha Sil is specifically shown as not caring about the Night Mother's attempts to sexually manipulate him in book seven of 2920, The Last Year of the First Era. Now I know that 2920 is considered a work of historical fiction in-universe, but I don't think that matters in this situation since I'm approaching this as a person reading a text, not as a person living inside the lore world.

In terms of specific scenes that connect Sotha Sil and Jesus, the first I will mention is that they both use a makeshift whip to beat intruding wrongdoers and drive them away, while yelling about fathers. In the Truth in Sequence vol. 8 book, it says that "[t]hrough His will alone, Mighty Seht wound the veins (of metal ore) into god-bronze whips, and lashed the Prince pitilessly," saying "[b]ehold the wrath of lost Ald Sotha! Know death at my hands, false-son of a false-father!" In the Bible, Jesus found people doing sales in a place of worship, and then He "made a whip of cords, (and) He drove them all out of the temple," saying “Take these things away! Do not make My Father’s house a house of merchandise!” (John 2 15-16).

Also, Jesus had close friends and followers who were called his apostles, and Sotha Sil has his own Clockwork Apostles. Sil's apostles reside in the Clockwork Basilica, and while basilica isn't an exclusively Christian term, it is frequently used to describe a type of church architecture, and is a term the pope uses to recognize distinguished churches.

Another similarity that I found was in the plot of Morrowind, where Sotha Sil's death was caused at the hands of Almalexia, who was someone he had once loved and trusted, much like with Jesus and Judas.

The most notable life similarity as it relates to the Coldharbour Compact is that both leave the earthly world in order to make a deal for the benefit of the souls on earth, and then return to the earthly world. This parallel is given extra weight with the descriptions of the scene in the book 2920, The Last Year of the First Era. Sotha Sil returns from Coldharbour by way of someone "rolling aside the great boulder that blocked the entrance to the Dreaming Cavern. This sounds a lot like the scene in the bible of the discovery that Jesus had risen from the dead, where "an angel of the Lord descended from heaven, and came and rolled back the stone from the door" (Matthew 28:2). In addition, Jesus said "after He is killed, He will rise [on] the third day," (Matthew 17:23) and after Sotha Sil returned from Coldharbour, he "felt he had been away for months, years, but only a few days had transpired." Perhaps it had been 3?

In addition to the life and behavior similarities, there are similarities in dress. In the 2920 book, Sotha Sil is always described as wearing a white robe or cloak. In ESO, Sotha Sil is shown as barefoot, and wearing a blue sash over his long white robe. In medieval and renaissance art, Jesus is most always depicted as barefoot, and is frequently shown with a blue cloth over his shoulder. In most resurrection art, as well as in almost all 20th/21st century art, Jesus is depicted as dressed in white. While Jesus usually isn't usually shown wearing both the blue sash and the white robe at once like Sotha Sil is, I found one modern interpretation of Jesus that does dress him this way, and several depictions of him in Chinese art that also portray him like this.

I'm feeling almost conspiratorial here, but these similarities are far too many for me to think it's accidental, and therefore I have to think that all of this is meant to suggest that Sotha Sil serves a Christ-figure role in his story, i.e. in sacrificing own life like Jesus did in order to make his deal in the Coldharbour Compact. However I don't think Sil's sacrifice was quite so simple. After he is asked what he offered the Daedra in return for the deal, he states: "The deals we make with Daedra... [s]hould not be discussed with the innocent." This implies that in contrast to the Christ mythos, Sil's sacrifice was not blameless; he did not come out of the deal with his hands clean.

So, a Christ-like sacrifice that isn't quite as pure and selfless as it is in Christianity. What could that be?

My theory is that in order to make the Coldharbour Compact, he sold the lives of Vivec and Almalexia along with his own. Perhaps he told the princes that he knew the tribunal's godhood would end, and in exchange for their cooperation he promised not to tell the other tribunes or make any attempt to prevent his and his companions' demise. (After all, as far as I know he made the mechanical heart for keeping his city functional, not for recreating the divinity the heart of Lorkhan provided.) Or, maybe he offered to do something to assist in bringing the Tribunal down, and losing Sunder and Keening, the tools that helped them maintain their divinity, was intentional on his part. Sil deliberately sacrificing his own life appears to be reflected in Azura's statement after his death. She said "he shed his mortality long ago, and I am certain his death was no small relief to him." Of course she'd know that he let go of his life ages ago if he had willingly sold it to her. Of course she would be certain that he found his death to be a relief, if she'd heard him say so himself when he was explaining why a god would ever offer such a deal.

It would also make sense with Sotha Sil's character, since he allegedly loved the people on Nirn more than Almalexia or Vivec did, and the destruction of Gilverdale could have definitely been a traumatic enough reminder of the destruction of Ald Sotha for him to do something dramatic to prevent it ever happening again. And guilt over sacrificing his friends could have definitely been a contributing factor to the worsening self-isolation and intense depression in his later life. It would also be a definite explanation for why he apparently never met another soul in the 10 years between losing the tools and his death. Not only had he become extremely disillusioned with the imperfections of the world, he had now finalized the deal he made so long ago, and saw no point in continuing to interact with a deeply flawed world he was essentially finished with.

However, I do see some issues with this and how it would work in-universe. Namely the fact that Hermaeus Mora's seekers said the prince received something from every individual on Nirn as part of the deal, which is quite different from what I'm suggesting. A different deal for each prince would also explain why Sil was able to include Clavicus Vile and Mephala in the compact at a much later date. There would be no reason for Vile and Mephala to submit to a collective deal whose terms had already been decided. So if he offered the tribunal's lives as part of the deal, he would have needed to offer other things as well. But for me the most significant in-universe issue I struggled with was that using his death as a bargaining tool would create a massive problem for his ability to enforce the deal in the future. This could explain why both Molag Bal and Mehrunes Dagon manifested on Nirn after Sotha Sil's death, but since I think they were summoned by qualified mortals that could have been a loophole. Either way, making a deal that is meant to last forever by promising something that can never be taken back in the case of a breach of contract seems extremely short-sighted for someone who claims to be cursed with certainty. Especially considering how many of the princes there were known to be cheats and liars.

Unless, that is, you believe this theory I read about the reason why Sil was completely silent as he was killed. My original belief was that he was silent because he'd seen it coming long ago, and knew that nothing he could have said would have changed Almalexia's mind. And while that would be in character for him, now I'm starting to think that it was because he had already uploaded his consciousness elsewhere. This would fit in with the Christ-figure parallels, due to the Christian belief that Jesus is risen from the dead and very much alive. While Jesus returned to life at the same time he emerged from the cave, the completion of Sotha Sil's death sacrifice didn't happen until long after his return via the cave. While I have found no explicit evidence that he's still around, when you find his body in Morrowind he is shown hanging, with his arms outstretched at his sides, in a sort of crucifixion pose. And after the crucifixion comes the resurrection. Perhaps Sotha Sil is still around somewhere in the gears of his city, and he promised the princes he'd never be present or have any influence on Nirn so long as they kept up their end of the deal. Additionally, the 37th sermon of Vivec mentions Sotha Sil as holding "his swollen belly," carrying "[his] daughter." While Vivec's sermons are hardly ever literal, Kirkbride's comments suggest that maybe Vivec was being somewhat literal in this instance. Regarding this concept art, Kirkbride said "note the cosmic baby growing inside Sotha Sil. While Sotha Sil is dead as we saw in the add-on pack “Tribunal”, the child survived." Perhaps one of Sotha Sil's many body modifications made him able to carry and birth a child, and then he created a daughter through self-cloning or some other method that allows him to have enough influence to enforce the compact.

TL;DR - Sotha Sil has a lot of similarities with Jesus, so he's a Christ figure and therefore his sacrifice in the Coldharbour Compact was himself, and Almalexia and Vivec too, and that also means that he may still be around.

Anyways, thanks for reading and sorry if this sounds like I'm putting red strings on a wall as my application essay to the r/SothaSimps fan club. Also, lmk if I'm missing anything obvious. For me right now Reading Lore On The Bedroom Floor is a bit more manageable than playing the games, and there may be something I've just completely looked over.

[mochegato]

Pixie Spy

Chapter 10

Chapter 1     Chapter 9

Marinette shuffled her feet in the hallway.  She smoothed her hair again, as if it could have somehow gotten messy since the last time she checked it, less than a minute before during which time she hadn’t moved from the spot she was in. Content that her hair wouldn’t embarrass her, at least not more than normal, she smoothed over her outfit to make sure everything was in place despite the fact that Jason had seen it earlier in the day getting whipped around in the akuma induced wind.  

Finally she reasoned that she couldn’t put it off anymore.  She took a deep breath to steel herself.  For what, she wasn’t sure.  It made no sense to be nervous and she knew that.  It didn’t relieve the anxiety though.  She was giving him the news he wanted to hear, the news he had asked to hear. So why was she nervous?

She stared at her fist, poised to knock on the door but frozen inches away.  She slowly lowered her hand, the confused look staying on her face.  He was going to get to stay.  He was going to be near her, but what if that wasn’t what he really wanted?  What if he changed his mind once he actually spent time with her?

She stared at the space her hand had been. Was that why she was nervous?  No, her anxiety wasn’t about her love life, not this time.  This was something else.  This was about something more.  Telling him made it all real.  Everything would change and she had argued the change would be for the better.  She couldn’t afford to be wrong about it and it wasn’t up to her.  It all depended on Jason and really, she didn’t know him.  She had bet the world’s future on someone she didn’t know.  

On top of that, for him to really work with the rest of the team, they needed to know what happened with the Lazarus Pit.  And as soon as she knocked, she was going to have to start that conversation.  She was going to have to dredge up painful memories and she loathed the idea of doing that.  The idea physically pained her.

She took a few deep breaths and looked back up at the door with a newfound resolve.  She was Ladybug for fuck’s sake.  She could handle a difficult conversation about emotionally excruciating events.  That was a significant part of her job after all.  People didn’t become akumas because of fun, happy experiences.  And she didn’t know everything about Jason, but she knew him.  She knew he would help.  She knew he was the right choice.  She looked back at the door and knocked loudly.  She silently congratulated herself for her small but significant victory.  She could do this.  She was Ladybug.  She could do this.

Jason opened the door after a minute with an apologetic smile.  “Sorry, I wasn’t expecting you so soon.”  He opened the door to let her through, but she was frozen in her spot.  Her mouth dropped open.  He had clearly just gotten back from working out.  His arms were on full display in his sleeveless shirt and his loose, grey sweatpants clung to his muscular thighs.  His arm muscles looked even more pronounced with the light catching the sheen of sweat covering them.  And God, his arms were bigger than her head.  She stared at them in wonder.  She couldn’t do this.  Who the fuck did she think she was thinking she could do this?

Jason grinned smugly at her reaction.  He leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms over his chest, making sure to put his fists under his biceps to make them appear larger.  His muscles definitely didn’t need any help to look enormous, but he wanted to impress her and see just how distracted he could make her.  “Like what you see?”

“Yes.”  The answer came out before she even thought about the question.  Her eyes snapped up to his, her cheeks blazing red. His smug smile grew into a deep laugh. She narrowed her eyes at him noticing the smug smile.  “Come on lover boy. The rest of the team is waiting to talk with you and the supermodel has a photoshoot in the morning so he's in a rush to get home and sleep.”

“Supermodel?” Jason’s smile faltered, suddenly less secure in his approach to distract her.

“Yep,” she said with a smirk popping the p.  “Told you it takes more than a pretty face.”

“Good thing I have this body too.”  He grinned again, motioning to himself.

She puckered her lips.  “Did I mention the shoot is for a fragrance, so it will be shirtless?  That’s one of the reasons they chose him.”  He didn’t need to know it was mostly because it was for his dad.  But even if it wasn’t, Adrien’s body was amazing.  That said… Jason’s body was perfect.  Looking at it made her feel like she was going to burst into flames.  Looking at his body and that devilish smile and those captivating eyes, she didn’t think he would even need to touch her to make her orgasm.  And if he kept flexing his muscles like that, that’s exactly what might happen.

“So,” he leaned a bit closer to her so he was in her personal space, bringing her eyes back to his, “what does it take, exactly?”

She pushed him away with a finger on his chest in one of the few dry patches on his shirt.  “Well first of all, someone who doesn't waste my time. Hurry up, Hagrid. They’re waiting and I want to talk a bit before we go.”  She looked him up and down again.  “But, I’m not doing that while you’re sweaty.”

He chuckled and moved to let her in again. She took him up on his offer this time, giving him a wide berth to both keep away from the sweat and keep herself from reaching out to run her hands along his chest as she passed.  “I just need to take a quick shower and I’ll be ready.” He turned to her and gave her devious smirk.  “You’re welcome to join me if you want.”

She quirked her lips to the side and narrowed her eyes at him as though analyzing him.  “I get the feeling you wouldn't know what to do if I actually said yes.”

He raised his eyebrows slightly in surprise before grinning seductively at her.  “I wouldn't believe my luck, but I have all kinds of ideas about what we can do. Been thinking about them since we met.”  He waggled his eyebrows at her.

Marinette blushed deeply and looked away.  “Just… Just hurry up André the Giant. They don't like to be kept waiting.”  

Jason chuckled and started walking out of the room with a small mock bow. “As you wish.”

“And if I got my hands on you we would definitely be late,” she said loudly enough for him to hear her.  She smirked proudly when Jason tripped on nothing, almost falling into the doorframe to the next room.

“You're going to make me take longer in the shower of you keep that up.” He shook his finger at her and kept walking before she could reply.  

As soon as Jason left the room Marinette pulled out her phone and texted Alya.  ‘His body should be illegal.  I can’t breathe anymore.  Thinking about just one of his muscles is going to give me an aneurism.’  

Marinette’s phone pinged almost immediately with Alya’s response.  ‘WTF happened?’

‘He answered the door sweaty and in workout clothes, showing off for me.  I think I died.  Did you see ladybugs flying around, because I’m pretty sure I died and came back.’

‘I’m not sure you’re the best judge.  I think I need to see for myself.’  Marinette could just see the smirk on Alya’s face.

Marinette narrowed her eyes at the phone.  ‘No! Back off.  Mine.  I will cut you.  But he’s going to take a shower so expect a delay.’  

‘Without you? Rude’

Marinette snorted and tucked her phone back in her pocket.  She walked over to the balcony doors and looked out over her city, trying very hard not to think about the water she could hear running.  Just a few feet away, okay more than just ‘a few’, but still not many, he was naked and washing himself… Nope!  She shook her head.  Not going to think about that right now.  She needed to distract herself.

She looked around the room to see if there was anything she could use to preoccupy herself for the next few minutes.  She gave the room a sweep.  Nope.  Nothing. Bastard is going to just let her sit out there with nothing to do but imagine his naked body.  She groaned and fell back over the armrest of the couch, hair splaying out over the cushions and legs kicking idly over the armrest.  

Why couldn’t an akuma strike now?  But nooooo.  They never happen when it would be helpful.  They are also bastards.  Well, not them.  It wasn’t their faults.  Hawkmoth and Argus were the bastards.  And she was the bastard because she couldn’t stop them.  And Constantine was the bastard because… so many reasons, but primarily right now, because he’s the one to put her in this situation in the first place.

She sighed and threw her arm over her eyes. God, she didn’t want to ask him about the Lazarus Pit just as much as she did.  Was there any chance describing it wouldn’t be traumatic for him?  Maybe he would just laugh it off like a joke. “Hey funny story, my brothers and I were just messing around and I ended up falling into the Pit accidentally.  We didn’t even know what it was.”  Then he would run his fingers along her jaw and run his other hand along her side until he got to her hip and pull her closer to him. Then he would kiss her deeply, running his hand through her hair and his other hand would go lower to…

“I see you’ve made yourself at home.” His voice was smooth and amused.

Her eyes shot open and scrambled to stand up.  “Sorry, sorry, sorry.”  He chuckled at her giving her a heart stuttering smile.  He cocked his hip to the side, resting one hand in the pocket of his pants and running the other through his still wet hair.  

“Holy shit,” Marinette mumbled absentmindedly, which was the only way she would be able to do anything right now.  Jason had come out in nothing but a pair of pants that were tight around his thighs and she assumed his ass as well, because his thighs were too muscular for regular, off the rack pants.  She’d have to make him some, she thought distantly.  Though it would be a shame to not see this sight. The lack of shirt and shoes added a sense of casualness and domesticity to his sexiness that Marinette couldn’t handle.

His broad, chiseled chest was on full display and she couldn’t look away from it.  She had known his chest was muscular, the curves of his muscles could be seen even through his clothes, but seeing his bare chest was short circuiting her brain. Drops of water from his wet hair were trailing paths down his chest.  Her eyes tracked one of the drops of water.  She was distantly aware of a chuckling noise but her face scrunched up with concern.  

The drop’s smooth path was getting continually disrupted by scars.  There were so many.  Deep ones, shallow ones, small, large, barely noticeable, wide and rough.  She reached out to touch one of them but stopped herself just short of touching him when she realized what she was doing.  She slowly pulled her hand back and looked up at Jason with concern clear in her eyes.  “I’m sorry,” she said simply.  

She let the intention hang in the air ambiguously. Because she was sorry for so much. She was sorry for acting so casually in his room.  She was sorry for almost touching him so intimately without his permission.  She was sorry for the suffering the scars indicated.  She was sorry that she was going to have to ask him to talk about incidents that may have been what caused the scars.

Jason shrugged with a practiced nonchalance. “No problem.  I’m hard to keep your hands off, I know.” He tried with a smirk, avoiding her eyes.

“Still inappropriate for me to touch you without your permission,” she pointed out sheepishly.

He gave her a roguish smile and moved closer to her. “Oh, you have permission to touch me whenever you want.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she answered breathlessly. She couldn’t look away from the roguish glint in his eyes.  

He stepped closer again until his chest was almost touching hers.  “Please do. And I fully encourage you to make yourself at home here.  Please feel free to get as comfortable as possible.  Maybe start by losing some of your more restrictive clothing.”  

“Is that why you didn’t bother with a shirt?” She looked up at him from under her lashes, not trusting herself to be able to hold her head up straight.

“I hate feeling restricted.”  He nodded slightly, his voice turning seductive.

She gasped quietly when he brought his hands up to cup her face gently.  “You’re making it really difficult to stay focused and be responsible.”

“So be irresponsible with me.”  His voice was enticing and his eyes entrancing, a triton luring her into his lair and she so very much wanted to let him.

She shook her head apologetically.  “I can’t.”

“You’re fighting a villain without help…”

“I have a team.”

“You went in without training.”

“I learn fast.”

“You’re the leader of your team.”

“We work together as a team.”

“You don’t let yourself feel.”

“I feel things.”

“You feel responsible for everything that is happening even though it isn’t your fault.”

“It is my fault we haven’t ended it yet.” She shook her head, tears starting to form.  Everything he was pointing out were things she couldn’t let herself focus on. Because if she focused on them, she would never be able to keep going.

“You deserve a break.  You deserve to do something crazy.  You deserve to be irresponsible,” he said gently.  “You deserve to be happy.”

He ran his thumbs over her cheeks and gazed adoringly in her eyes.  Marinette leaned into his touch.  “You have no idea how much you make me want that.”  She gently placed her hands over his and closed her eyes.  His strong hands made her feel warm and safe, but she couldn’t return the favor. “But we need to talk.  And I don’t want to do it with an audience.” She winced internally at how that sounded.

He sighed and let his hands drop, taking a step away, also well aware that sentence never leads to anything good. “Okay.”

“Unfortunately, you should probably put a shirt on while we talk,” she sighed and looked at the ground.

He smiled cheekily at her.  “Do I distract you?”

She looked back up at him and puckered her lips attempting to keep the corners of her lips from quirking up.  “Yes,” she mumbled and looked away.  

“Good.” He grinned and stepped closer again. “Because you make it impossible for me to focus on anything but you.”

She closed her eyes and shook her head.  She couldn’t let him distract her.  They needed to have this talk and she didn’t want to make him have to do it in front of a group.  After a few deep breaths she looked back at him with a serious look. “It's about the Lazarus Pit.”

His face turned in an instant from teasing to unsure and a bit panicked.  “How do you know about that?”

She gave him a weak smile.  “That’s one of the things we can talk about.”

He looked away with a pained sigh.  “Yeah, okay.  I’ll go finish getting dressed.”  He turned back to her with a strained smile.  He really didn’t want this conversation to go as dark as it probably was going to go.  He wanted to get back to the flirty banter, even though he knew it was probably impossible. “If you’re sure you want me to.”

She gave him a half smile and looked away with a quiet laugh.  “Not really. It seems like a crime to cover your body, but it’s probably a good idea if I’m going to form coherent sentences.”

He nodded and turned to get dressed.  She was still flirting with him.  Still giving him compliments.  That had to mean she wasn’t disgusted by his past with the Lazarus Pit.  Maybe there was hope then.  Maybe she could know the worst parts of him and still stay?  That seemed like too much to ask for.  He would just have to enjoy as much as he could, as long as he could. Until she learned too much about him and changed her mind.

After a few moments, Jason walked back into the room with a serious expression, trying to be prepared for the conversation.  “Well that’s not fucking better.” Marinette threw her hands up in the air and turned away.  Jason was fully dressed but that consisted of combat boots, the same tight pants from earlier, and a skintight shirt that clung to his muscles.  She could see the outline of every muscle through his shirt and trace the movement as they flexed.  “How am I supposed to have a serious conversation with you looking like that?”

Jason blushed lightly chuckled, grateful to her for relieving some of the tension.  “The same way I do when you are anywhere near me.”

“It’s not the same,” she grumbled into her hands. “I’m not always in skintight clothes.”

“You don’t have to be to knock me on my ass,” he answered earnestly.  Marinette looked up at him with wide eyes, a blush taking over her cheeks.  

Jason grinned proudly.  God it made him feel so amazing to know he could make her blush so easily. All he had to do was say a few honest words and she would blush for him.  He could do that.  But they had to be honest words.  She wouldn’t respond if they weren’t.  She demanded honesty.  So he was going to have to give it to her.  He cleared his throat and sat awkwardly on the edge of one of the arm chair’s cushion. “So… you wanted to talk about the Lazarus Pit?”

He had clasped his hands between his knees and hunched over like he was waiting for a scolding.  The sight broke Marinette’s heart.  She rubbed her suddenly sweaty palms on her pants and sat on the coffee table across from him.  Their knees were almost touching.  If Marinette were taller, they would be.  It was the closest she could sit to him without actually sitting on him.  She wanted to be close for this conversation. She needed him to know she was there for him.  She wasn’t going to turn her back on him without hearing him out.

“We know what the Lazarus Pit is and we know you were in it.  What we don’t know is why.  What happened that you ended up in it?”  She took a breath and gave the top of his head, the only part he was showing, a determined look.  “What we don’t know is what it cost you.”

Jason let out a long, deep breath and ran his hands over his face a few times.  “Yeah, okay. That’s fair I guess,” he mumbled into his hands.  Was it really fair?  He didn’t know.  He didn’t know if they deserved to know his deepest, darkest secrets in order for him to stay.  He knew he shouldn’t have to expose the rawest part of himself to stay, but he understood why they wanted it.  And if they knew about the Lazarus Pit, then he understood why they were worried.

What he didn’t understand was why Marinette was sitting so close to him, making herself so vulnerable.  If they really did know about the effect the Lazarus Pit had, then she should know better.  She should know how dangerous it was to be so close.  Yet there she was, sitting inches away, looking at him with openness and compassion.  She was the strangest person who had ever entered his life and God, he hoped she never left it.

“You want the Cliff Notes version or the Mahabharata version?” His voice was tired.

She cocked her head to the side.  “I don’t really know what either of those things mean, but I want to know as much as you’re comfortable telling me.”

Jason huffed out a laugh and leaned forward, concentrating on the floor as he composed his thoughts.  How much was he comfortable with telling?  He was still deep in thought when Marinette spoke up again. Her voice gentle and non-accusatory. “I know it must be really difficult and I don’t want to… I hate that I have to ask you to talk about it, to go through it again.  But, the rest of the team knows too and they’re scared.  If it’s too much for you, we don’t have to know.  You can stay and we won’t push you.  It isn’t a requirement to stay.  But they’re going to be worried and I don’t know if they’ll be able to trust you. They…” she paused considering whether or not to tell him what Alya had said.  There was no way he could take it positively, and he shouldn’t, but she wanted him to know what he would be up against, why she was asking. “They think you chose to go into the pit and they want to know why someone would make that choice knowing the price.”

“Choose?”  He looked at her questioningly.  She couldn’t possibly have meant that.  “Choose!” he repeated incredulously.  He leaned back in the chair and ran his hands through his hair.  “I didn’t choose anything.  I didn’t choose to die at that fucking clown’s hands.  I didn’t choose to get brought back at the hands of that fucking holier than thou Super.  I didn’t choose to get taken in by the League of fucking Assassins.  And I certainly didn’t choose to get thrown into that damned Pit by that fucking bitch.” He started breathing heavily running through everything that happened.

“You wanted to know what it cost me.”  He looked back at her with a feral look in his eyes.  “It cost me my sanity.  It cost me my serenity.  It cost me my sense of justice and balance.  It cost me my family.  It cost me my future.” He scoffed at himself.  “Not that I really ever had any of those things in the first place. Never had them and never going to have them.”

Jason looked up to face her, frustration and betrayal clear in his eyes.  The Pit took so much from him and this should be one of those things.  She shouldn’t let him stay.  She shouldn’t trust him.  “Why would you trust me?  If you know about the Pits, why let me stay?” He cried.

She frowned at him.  “You think I shouldn’t?”

“FUCK NO!” he yelled louder than he meant to and standing up to pace the floor.  “I’m the last fucking person you should trust.  And you already said you didn’t.  You just said you thought I chose to jump into that fucking, godforsaken hell water.”

“That’s not what I said.” Her voice was calm and low, but demanded just as much attention as his screams had.  “I said they were worried about that.  They don’t know you.  They haven’t met you so they’re scared.  They know you have the potential to hurt us, to hurt me, and they don’t know you well enough to know you would never.  I do.  I trust you.”

He threw his hands up in the air and collapsed back into the seat.  Why wasn’t she understanding this?  As much as he hated the way his family treated him, he understood it.  He deserved it.  This though, he didn’t deserve.  It was everything he had asked her for; a chance, their trust, her attention. But he didn’t deserve it.   “Terrible decision,” he grumbled at her. “They could be right.”

She chuckled at his reaction and gave him a soft smile.  “I trust you and I’m a pretty good judge of character.”

He scoffed at her.  “You trust Constantine.”

“Eh.  Yes and no. I trust Constantine to be Constantine.” She shrugged at him and leaned back, supporting herself with her hands behind her. “We needed someone with magical knowledge and questionable morals so he was the best fit.  We sure as fuck weren’t going to go to Doctor Fate or Zatara, for opposite reasons.”  She sighed and looked out through the windows, watching the city’s lights twinkle in the distance.  “Look, I wouldn’t trust him to watch my dog, if I had one.  But I’d trust him to watch my back until the cost got too high.  I’d trust him to know when that was.  And honestly, he’s the only one I trust with that. The only one.”  She turned back to Jason with a quizzical look.  “Do you think that’s what the Pit did to you?  Made you untrustworthy?”

He shook his head and looked her in the eye. She needed to know who he was.  “I was untrustworthy long before that.”

She leaned forward, matching his gaze with a fierce one of her own.  “I don’t believe that.”

“Pixie…” he sighed, closing his eyes and leaning his head back.

“No,” she cut him off before he could say something else self-deprecating.  He opened his eyes to see what she was going to say next.  “Just because you weren’t trusted, that doesn’t mean you weren’t trustworthy.”

“You don’t know what I’ve done.”  The look he gave her was heartbreaking and she wouldn’t let him get away with thinking that about himself.

“You don’t know what I’ve done.”  She inched forward in her spot, her face closer to his so he couldn’t look away. “I trust you.  You crossed an ocean to help us.  You went against your family to come here.  You saved Manon and August when you could have kept walking. You left on the rooftop when I asked you to even though you didn’t know it was me asking.  You stopped at the gala to help a little girl because she looked sad.  Because that’s who you are.  And I trust you to be honest with me.  I trust you to help Paris.  I trust you to try.  I trust you to protect us.  I trust you to sit out as long as you can stand it.  I trust you to fight until your last breath when you can’t stand it anymore.  I trust you to do what you think is right.  I trust you to trust me.  And I trust you to argue when you disagree with me.  I trust you.”

The room went silent except for Marinette’s deep breathing echoing through the room.  Jason watched her for a few moments letting her words bounce around in his head. He finally lunged forward to pull her into a tight hug and settle her in his lap.  Marinette froze momentarily before she wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his neck.  She gripped him tightly as though she were afraid to let him go, afraid he wouldn’t understand how she felt.  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gotten worked up. I can’t do that here and I promised you I wouldn’t.”

Marinette shook her head rapidly.  “No!  I asked you about something extremely painful.  I knew it would be horrible for you and I asked anyway.  You had every right.”

“I didn’t.  I’m sorry,” he sighed out.  That was one of the conditions for him staying, not just for them but for himself and for Selina.  He had promised himself and her that he would stay calm and the first day he blew it.  He needed to do better and he knew that.  He couldn’t afford to lose it like that.  No matter what anyone says, no matter what anyone asks about, he couldn’t get angry.  

He sighed at himself and took a calming breath before turning his attention back to Marinette.  He hooked his finger under her chin to get her to look up at him.  When she made eye contact with him, he softened his gaze.  “You had every right to ask.  I can talk about it calmly.  I’m fine,” he tried to assure her with a weak smile.

Marinette looked at him with understanding and nodded at him.  “I can pretend that’s true if you want me to,” she offered quietly.

He furrowed his brow at her, poised to reassure her it really was fine.  That was his standard response, but for some reason it didn’t feel right.  It felt wrong to lie like that with her.  He didn’t want to lie.  He cupped her face and pulled it closer to his.  He rested his forehead on hers and shook his head lightly.  “I don’t want you to pretend with me.”

She looked at him with half lidded eyes and licked her lips.  “I don’t want to either.”

His eyes searched hers as he moved his lips closer to hers.  She closed her eyes and angled her head in preparation.  She jumped when her phone dinged, letting her know she had a text message.  She chuckled lightly and looked down.  “I guess they’re getting impatient.”

Jason changed his path and kissed her forehead, letting his lips linger.  Marinette closed her eyes and leaned into the kiss.  “We better get moving then,” he agreed just as quietly.  “Wouldn’t want the model to have bags under his eyes in his pictures.”

She giggled at the comment and rested her head on his shoulder, making no move to get up.  “So very thoughtful of you.”

“Yep, always thinking of others.  That’s what everyone always says about me,” he joked, hugging her closer again.

She pushed away to look him in the eyes and cup his face.  “I don’t doubt it.”  She rubbed his cheeks with her thumb for a moment before standing up to leave.

Jason shook his head and sighed.  “You really should,” he muttered too quietly for her to hear.

“Now we really better get going before Chloe skins me alive.  And if we don’t leave now we’re going to be late.  It takes a while to get there.”

“Ready to go,” he confirmed, following her out the door.

“Sure you got everything, General Sherman?” she teased him.

“General Sherman?” He looked at her questioningly, pulling the door closed behind him.  He could not for the life of him figure out what the American Civil War had to do with him.

She nodded with a grin.  “It’s like the biggest tree in the world or something?”

He shook his head.  “What is it with you and all the tree nicknames?”

“They’re big and annoying, like you.”  She booped him on the nose and laughed continuing to walk down the hallway.

He stared after her for a moment before something clicked in his mind.  He walked up next to her and leaned down to whisper in her ear.  “I think it’s because you want to climb me like one.” Marinette squeaked and stopped walking. Her cheeks immediately turned deep red that spread to her ears and neck.  He gave her a devilish smirk and kept walking to the elevator.  “You coming?”

Marinette cocked her hip to the side with a smirk that said she knew something he didn’t and knocked on that door she had stopped in front of.

Jason looked at the door and back to her and shook his head.  “And here I was hoping I'd be able to make some more and better moves on you on our trip.”

She raised an eyebrow at him.  “You have stronger moves than coming out in just skintight pants?”

“I do and I'm very excited to show them to you,” he confirmed with a cheeky grin, moving until he was only a hair’s breadth away from her.

She looked up at him and swallowed heavily.  “I’m not sure I’d survive them.”

“Fucking finally!  It’s only like ten feet what the fuck took so long.  Some of us have better things than to do than lay the groundwork for getting fucked by our boyfriends.”  Chloe exclaimed with an amount of exasperation that only she could achieve.

Marinette squeaked again and turned to Jason.  “I swear I didn’t tell them that.”

“I will,” he smirked at her moving past her into the room.

She gave him a halfhearted glare and followed him in.  “Go ahead, but at some point someone should wait for me to agree to be their girlfriend before they start telling people I am.”  She gave Adrien a pointed look.

Adrien jumped up with a scowl, “Hey, no.  It doesn’t count as ‘before’ if we never dated.”

“Take a look at the Ladyblog.  We’ve been dating for five years,” Marinette pointed out with a smirk.

“I meant actual dating,” Adrien pouted, “not fanfiction dating.”

“Luka didn’t tell anyone before… or after,” Alya offered.  “He really didn’t talk about it at all.”

“Bri didn’t tell… oh, no, yeah she did,” Nino added with a grimace.  “Everyone.”

“Looks like Jason is your only hope,” Alya gave smirked.

“Too late for that,” Marinette gave him a pointed look.  Jason shrugged not looking at all repentant and even had the audacity to put his arm around her waist and pull her closer, which Marinette subconsciously leaned in to. “Henry was the only one that asked me and then told people.”

“Yeah, but he didn’t last long, so clearly not a good approach for you.” Alya pointed out.

“Lasted longer than Bri though, so your theory might need some work,” Nino corrected her.

“The problem isn’t the approach,” Chloe chimed in annoyed with the conversation already, “the problem is Marinette.” Alya rounded on Chloe, red in the face and ready to start lecturing, but Chloe continued before she could.  “Her standards suck.  As in she has none.”

“Hey!” Marinette yelped indignantly.  

“She doesn’t date people worthy of Ladybug, let alone Marinette.” Chloe clarified haughtily, pulling out her homework.

Everyone but Jason froze and stared at Chloe. “She’s drunk,” Nino stage whispered to Alya.  “That’s the only explanation.”

“Okay, as godawful as this introduction has been so far…” Marinette spoke up ending the conversation.  “… and it has been.  Let’s do real introductions.  Jason, this is the permanent miraculous team.”  She motioned her arm to indicate the people in the room.  “The drunk one is Chloe.”

“Fuck you, Dupain-Cheng.” Chloe scowled not looking up from her homework.

“I thought that was my job,” Jason commented with a smirk.

“Oh, he’s going to fit in perfectly,” Nino laughed.

“I’m Alya.”  She waved from her spot on the couch.  “The one that looks like he just got in a fight is Nino.  The dork is Adrien.”

“Did you just get in a fight?” Jason asked observing him.  His clothes were rumpled, his hair looked scruffed up, and there looked to be the beginning of a bruise on his arm.

“Kind of.  I said…” Nino started with a wicked smirk.

“Nino, you finish that sentence and I will give you a black eye to complete your look,” Marinette growled at him.

Jason looked down at Marinette in surprise before leaning over to whisper quietly enough that only she could hear, “Did I mention how fucking hot you are?”  Marinette squeaked and turned bright red again.

Adrien crossed the room to shake Jason’s hand with a friendly grin.  “Okay, introductions are done, now let’s focus on the important business before I have to leave.  First, what did you just say?  I haven’t seen her turn that color in years.  Also, a correlated question, he’s already telling people you’re dating?” He waggled his eyebrows at Marinette.  She took a deep breath and let it out loudly in a resigned huff. They were going to ridicule her for the rest of her life over Jason.  Adrien laughed at her and moved his focus over to Jason.  “Good to see you, man.  I’m impressed you were able to find Marinette.”  He eyed Jason’s hand around Marinette’s waist and Marinette’s body language.  He looked up to Jason.  “I ship it.”

Jason grinned smugly at Marinette.  “He ships it,” he pointed out in an innocent voice.

Marinette rolled her eyes.  “He would ship me with Loki.  It doesn’t mean anything.”

Adrien grinned at her and shot her finger guns. “Whatever makes you happy, baby. And Loki is hot.  I ship everyone I like with him.”

Alya pushed him out of the way and stepped in front of Jason.  “Ignore him. He trusts everyone.  You don’t need to worry about him unless you screw up… and then he’ll kill you.”  She stuck her hand out to shake Jason’s.  He looked down at Marinette questioningly.  She shrugged in response.  This wasn’t the worst shovel talk they’d doled out and he was Red Hood, he could handle it.  “We, on the other hand,” she motioned to Chloe and herself, “don’t trust anyone.  We’ll kill you when we think you even might be about to screw up.”

Jason nodded at them.  This was a form of interaction he understood; threats.  “And him?” He motioned to Nino.

“Me?  I provide the alibis.” He answered with a grin.

“One of the most important pieces in the game.” He nodded looking around.  “Another important piece is believability.  People have to believe you would do what you threaten.  That’s where a reputation can help you.  No offense but you guys don’t seem the type.”

“But I am.” Plagg appeared in Jason’s face out of nowhere with a maniacal grin on his face.  

Jason flinched back almost falling on his ass, pulling Marinette behind him as he moved.  “What the ever living FUCK is that?” He yelled out.

The room erupted in laughter except for Plagg who continued staring him down.  Marinette stood between the two with an apologetic smile and helped him straighten up. “Sorry about him.  I’d say he doesn’t mean it but… the dinosaurs would say otherwise… if they were still alive… and could talk.”

“Jesus Christ, Marinette.  You were over there forever.  Did you explain anything to him?”  Chloe groaned.

“I was trying to explain things to but then someone,” she looked pointedly at all of them, “kept interrupting.”

“And just exactly what were we interrupting?” Adrien asked waggling his eyebrows.

Marinette gave him a deadpan look for a few seconds waiting for him to figure it out.  “Explaining things.  I just fucking said that, dumbass.”

“Excuse me, but would we discuss the fucking floating demon cat, please?” Jason interrupted keeping his eyes glued to the floating creature.

“Please don’t call him that.  It’ll just go to his head.  We won’t hear the end of it for centuries.”  Tikki floated up near Jason but at a respectful distance.  “I’m Tikki.  He’s Plagg. That is Wayzz.  That is Trixx.  And that is Pollen.” She said, pointing out each of the kwami in turn as they hovered over their wielders.  “We’re kwami.”

“Right.  That explains exactly nothing.” Jason scowled.  “Is there someone who can use real words to explain what is going on?”

Marinette laughed and pulled him over to the sitting area, letting him take the arm chair while she perched on its arm.  “Kwami are what give us our powers.  Each one represents a concept.  Each concept comes with powers related to that concept. Pollen is the kwami of subjection. She can knock people out.  Wayzz is the kwami of protection.  He creates an impenetrable force field.  Trixx is the kwami of Illusion.  He can cast… illusions.  That one’s rather self-explanatory really.  Plagg, the demon cat, is the kwami of destruction. He can be asshole, like his owner.” Twin heys rang out from Adrien and Plagg, which were completely ignored.  “But his power is he can cast bad luck and he destroys things.  Tikki is the kwami of creation.  She has the power of luck and can create things.  There are more, but those are the five main kwami used currently.”

“Okay…” he drew out the last sound of the word, not sure how to process all that.

Marinette grimaced at him.  “It gets worse so I just… want you to be prepared.”  He scowled at her.  Worse than their last conversation didn’t sound good.  “The kwami are tied to pieces of jewelry called a miraculous.  If you possess the miraculous, you can control them.  That’s why the villain is trying to get our miraculous.  If he gets them, he controls them.  Tikki’s and Plagg’s miraculous can be used together to grant a wish, a physics defying, reality destroying wish.  It can reset time.  It can destroy worlds.  A couple hundred years ago, someone got them.  He wished for immortality.”

Jason watched her apprehensively.  “He created the Pits.”

“No, we created the Pits.  He wished for them.” Plagg hissed.  “But he wasn’t too specific with his wish,” he cackled as he said it.

“Making a wish is like making a deal with a leprechaun. There’s always a catch.” Marinette clarified.  “He got immortality, but at a price.”

“That’s why we’re letting you stay lover boy,” Alya added.

“I already used lover boy,” Marinette interrupted.

“Fuck, yeah that was too easy anyway.  Don Juan?”

“Not yet.”

“Not ever.” She said pointedly and turned to Jason. “That’s why we’re letting you stay Don Juan,” she continued.  “Because the Pit restores your health, but weakens your ability to link to a miraculous or its powers.”

“It means Hawkmoth shouldn’t have as powerful of a pull on you, should an akuma ever land on you,” Nino added.

“It also means you can’t ever wield a miraculous,” Marinette said apologetically.

“Was that a consideration?” Jason exclaimed.

“No!” “Maybe.” “Duh!” Alya, Adrien, and Chloe answered at the same time.  Alya and Adrien looked at each other in surprise while Chloe rolled her eyes.

“We never discussed that!” Alya raised her voice in annoyance.

“It wouldn’t have been the worst idea,” Adrien offered weakly.

“It would have been the obvious next step. If he’s here to help us and he has training and Marinette trusts him, which of fucking course she does, of course we would have given him one.” Chloe explained.

Jason leaned over to Marinette so the others wouldn’t hear him.  “I see what you mean about Manon and Chloe.”  

Marinette giggled and nodded.  “It’s only a matter of time before she adds the cursing in too. She probably does just not in front of me or her mom.”

“And what are you two kids giggling about over there?” Adrien asked with a knowing smirk.

“Fuck you.  I don’t giggle.” Jason grunted.

“Too manly for that.  I only laugh in a manly way,” Nino’s voice lowered to imitate Jason.

The rest of the room started chortling in terribly concealed laughter.  Jason narrowed his eyes and pointed at him, “Yes I am.” Causing the rest of the room to give up on their attempts to hide their laughter.  “Okay, so what I’m hearing is I don’t get one of those magical girl sequences.”

Marinette laughed and patted him on the shoulder. “I mean, you could always pretend. Nobody’s stopping you from creating your own amazing sequence when you put on your suit.”

He smirked and pulled her closer to him. “What kind of sequence were you thinking of exactly?”  Marinette squeaked and turned red.  She buried her head in her hands making him laugh.

“An incredibly fucking boring one considering she mentioned putting your clothes on.” Chloe remarked.

“I’m creative.  I could make it work.” Jason assured her with a wink.  Marinette groaned and bent in half, trying to force her face, still covered by her hands, into her legs while the rest of the room laughed.

Chloe eyed him for a moment before nodding and going back to her homework.  “I’m sure that’s true, off brand Robin Hood.”

“Are we letting him suit up though?” Alya asked. “Do we want Hawkmoth knowing one of Gotham’s vigilantes is running around?  Not to mention, his identity isn’t protected by magic.  If someone knows Jason Todd from Gotham is in Paris and Red Hood from Gotham is in Paris, people will be able to put things together. They aren’t stupid.”

“That’s a good point, babe.  I don’t think we can.” Nino agreed.

“We’re not letting him run around at all.” Marinette’s voice was so firm, the note of finality so clear Jason did a double take. “You don’t have magic to protect you and we can’t give you a suit.  You can’t be in the fights.”

“I’ve fought worse things than you can imagine,” Jason said slowly.

“I have an incredible imagination, but I don’t have to use it for this.  I just need my memory,” she said coldly.  The rest of the room watched her with sympathy, knowing where her mind went.  “Because I can remember devastation.  I can remember people torn to pieces.  I can remember people crushed.  I can remember people drowning.  I can’t remember you like that.”

“I can take care of myself.  I’ve fought Supers.  I’ve fought assassins.  I’ve come back from the god damned dead,” he assured her, starting to understand where her objection was coming from.

“Join the club.  You aren’t special.” Chloe snarked.

“But I did it without a magic suit.  I’ve probably done almost as much as you all and without a magic power up to do it.” Jason argued.

“Power ups are a different thing.” Nino threw in. Marinette and Jason glared at him. He held his hands up in surrender.  “Just saying.”

“I can do more than just hide,” he pointed out, begging her to let him do more.

“And you will, but not in a fight.” Marinette responded, her eyes pleading with him to understand.

“He’s going to need to suit up if he’s going to train us while we’re in suits though.  Jason Todd can’t just be hanging around the miraculous team.  That would put him squarely on Hawkmoth’s most wanted list.  Right next to Marinette.”  Adrien pointed out.

Jason’s head whipped over to her and Marinette groaned. “The fuck?”

“It’s nothing,” she tried to assure him, but the look he gave her confirmed he wouldn’t believe it.

She sighed and shot Adrien a glare.  “Fine.  Hawkmoth likes to target me.  Has from the start.  We have no idea why.  I would say Lila, she’s the only one we know of who actively dislikes the Marinette side of me, but it started before she appeared in Paris and we know Hawkmoth is a man.  We checked her National ID and school records.  She definitely wasn’t here.  We don’t think he knows my identity, otherwise he would have targeted me more. So it’s just one of those fun mysteries that makes life interesting.  Because otherwise our lives would be so boring.”

Jason stared at her with an overwhelming need to protect her burning in his gut.  It wasn’t just as a hero that she was dealing with this.  She had to deal with it as a civilian too.  No fucking wonder she was so fucking over this.  But since she wouldn’t let him fight with them, the best way to help her right now was to train her and to do that, he would have to come up with a new identity.  “Red hood can’t run around with you guys and train you, but maybe another hero can.”

“Hell no.  We’re barely letting you stay, and that is still probationary.  We sure as hell aren’t letting another hero in.” Alya growled.

“No, I meant I’ll have to be someone else,” Jason explained.

“I still don’t want you in akuma battles,” Marinette said carefully.

“We can discuss that later,” he assured her.  He knew why she was objecting, for the same reason he would object to her fighting against the Joker.  He didn’t doubt her abilities, but even the idea made his lungs feel like they were slowly disintegrating.  And worrying about him would distract her during a fight, which he also couldn’t allow.  But he was sure he could convince her to let him help with crowd control, saving innocent bystanders.  He just needed a bit of time and the right approach.  “But for training and patrol and investigations, another identity would help.”  He was specifically thinking about when he was breaking into different places, but she didn’t need to know that.  But the way Chloe was eying him, he had a feeling she knew what he meant.

“Like Red Bat?” Nino suggested.

“No, nothing bat related, just to be safe.” Jason shook his head.

“Oooh, Red Cat!” Adrien exclaimed, bouncing in his seat at the idea.

“Hell no.  I would never hear the end of it.”

“Red Turtle?” Nino suggested with a smile. “Raphael?”

“Oooh, Red Fox!” Alya offered loudly.  She froze almost immediately realizing what that would be.  “No wait… forget I said that.”

There was a pause as people thought of a name. “Don’t look at me,” Chloe spoke up without looking up from her homework.  “I’m not sharing my name.  I’m the only Bee in town.”

“A name can wait.  We’ll need a suit before a name.  I think I can come up with a few ideas, unless you have one already.”  Jason shook his head and Marinette bounced with anticipation.  “Yay!  I never get to design hero suits.”  She pulled him up to standing so she could examine his body with a critical eye, thinking of designs that would work with his body.  Jason suddenly felt exposed as he circled him with no hint of a blush as she stared at him and for the first time, he was positive she was not thinking about him in any remotely sexual way.  He scrunched up his face.  He didn’t like it at all.

“Okay,” Adrien interjected.  She’s going to be gone to the world for a while.  “So, back to the important business.  Second question; is your brother single?”

Tags:

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[ktheist]

heartbreaker of mine

muses. jungkook x reader

synopsis. ah, here we are again. the overtold, cliche as hell story about two best friends who might or might not be in love with each other. except you can’t - wouldn’t dare to dream about being with jungkook.

alternatively, wherein you fell for the one who could break your heart.

words. 7.5k

universe. university / slice of life

warnings. mentions of physical insecurities; appearance, commitment issues

x

you should have known that in the absence of two of your best friends, nothing ever goes right when you decide to hang out. it isn’t the fact that you’ve known each other since diapers and basically know anything and everything about the other, that at some point you feel like your friendship is stale and need new additions - that’s where park jimin and kim taehyung comes in; a year older but several younger at heart, you couldn’t have imagined going through uni life with someone but them - but it’s the fact that realization hits you at the end of your final year that makes you drift apart. 

the fact of the matter is, you prefer the solitude of your room, the library of that one spot in the cafe that you’ve claimed as yours. and jeon jungkook prefers the blare of music, strobe lights and bodies grinding against him.

by your final year, as you receive a job offer at the company you interned in on your second year, taehyung is already working part time at the company he interned in, jimin thinking about that modeling offer he just got scouted for and jeon jungkook is getting daddies of the girls he’s having a thing with to get him to work at their office just so their daughter can see their favorite boy more - yours and jungkook’s friendship has dwindled down to mere silences as you wait for the other two to knock on the door and fill the place up with their endless bickering about whether dumplings are better than mochi.

 “shouldn’t you like, give me advice?” are the words jungkook said to you while you type away on your laptop, trying to do some light reading for tomorrow’s class before your mac gets confiscated for ‘pooping the party’ as taehyung likes to call it.

and you know what he’s talking about without even having preambles of the topic make its way into the conversation.

yet you still take off your glasses and set it down in your lap and ask, “what could jeon jungkook possibly have not known and needed advice on?”

he scrunches his nose, not appreciating your sarcasm but humors it anyway, “you know,” he shrugs, as though shrunk into the sofa from either shyness or embarrassment - you don’t know, “on like, how to start being serious about life - and settling down.”

the silence that stretches is a stale one, filled with your blank stare and jungkook’s peering eyes - even at the age of 22, the stars still glimmer like they’ve been freshly plucked from the skies.

“you want me to help pick, out of the many job offers you got from your girlfriends’ rich parents, for you to do?” is your conclusion - though if you were 2 years younger and had a little bit more faith for the boy you basically called your twin, it would have been a good natured jest. but you’re older and jungkook isn’t exactly portraying characteristics of an upstanding citizen either.

“no,” his hair brushes against his brows as he shakes his head almost too eagerly - as though he saw that coming but still got upset and wanted to prove you wrong, “like how to start taking things seriously like settling down with someone and no, not with out of my many girlfriends - can we not call them that? it makes me sound like an ass.”

it takes you less than five seconds to digest his words, eyes drifting to the white screen of your mac for the sole reason you can’t bear to hold his intense gaze while you conjure up a response, “well for one, you are but there’s honestly nothing i can tell you that you don’t know already and there’s nothing i can possibly say to make you want to change - it has to come from you. or like, a professional that could help and if you think you need one, i’ll be with you all step-“

the brief scoff is what puts a rest to your racing thoughts while the smile on his lips put your heart at ease, “i’m not addicted to sex.”

“oh, okay.” is all you say, not seeing where the conversation is going as you watch the boy scratch the back of his ear, lips pulled into a pout - one way you know he’s trying to strum words into existence. and when he does, confused is an understatement to describe what your face is portraying.

“okay,  i’m saying if and if you’re looking for a husband, no, scratch that, would you even introduce someone like me to your parents?” but that’s the thing, you’re not confused because you don’t know where this is going but you’re confused because you don’t pretend to be oblivious.

but you’re also not a master at the art of heart-to-hearts and the gargantuan elephant that it brings. so you settle with a, “uh, i don’t know, you already know my parents, don’t know how i can reverse that and reintroduce you-“

“that’s not the point,” he blinks, the sight almost endearing as he freezes in his spot for a split second in contemplation of how to approach the matter and explain it to you who seem like you’re way off, “the point is-“

“i get it.”  you nod, arms crossing over your chest as jungkook’s wide eyes peers into you like a mixture of relief anticipation.

“you do?”

“you’re worried if your future partner will be insecure about the bodies you’ve seen before them,” there’s a knock on the door just as you’ve finished speaking.

as you get up to get up to answer it, knowing already who’s there from the obnoxious chatters - more like argument - you’re not sure if your brain is playing tricks on you or if jungkook’s shoulder line really falls as well as his face.

but the, “uh, yeah, i guess,” is what makes you push the image of dimmed stars and downturned pink lips to the back of your mind as you unlock the door, welcoming the two halfway-into-a-deep-quarreling men and their two bags of take-away roasted chicken, chips, mashed potatoes and whatever else they thought necessary to fill the game night with.

“thanks, shortcake,” taehyung smiles at you after you take a plastic bags off his and jimin’s hands and proceed to place it on the coffee table.

“tae, you’re literally taller than everyone,” throwing him a side glance, you shrug as you begin taking out the packed chicken wings and placing it in front of jungkook while taehyung helps with unpacking the add-ons from another bag, “calling me short isn’t exactly an insult.”

“i’m just saying we should demolish mint chocolate chips all at once,” jimin plops down on the couch adjacent to jungkook, “and no, we can’t let these savages go eating them - we need to educate-“

somewhere in the middle of jimin’s colonial-esque speech, you turn to the boy who’s never said a word since the two came in. not that those too needed an additional converse partner with how taehyung is advocating for leaving mint chocolate chip eaters alone and jimin staying with his stance that these people haven’t had a taste of all flavors in the world yet.

the way he seems to look at something past your shoulders tells you enough - he’s still deep in his thoughts about settling down, or changing or whatever. you don’t know why exactly he wants to change his heartbreaker ways but- “there’s nothing wrong with two adults having a - or multiple - consensual sexual relationship prior to finding their significant other. and if they have a problem with that then that’s something they need to work on, not you so no, i don’t think you should change anything unless you want to.”

x

it’s some days later that taehyung brings up the remnant of the conversation he overheard before the four of you began arguing about what movie to watch and ended up putting the fate of humanity in rock paper scissors. and so you tell him, without ever thinking of the one thing that spurred his ridiculous thought and the hesitance of pouring it onto you.

“don’t look at me, i’m not snitching.” jimin’s round, disbelieved eyes stares back at taehyung as though surprised the latter would ever think he’d do such a thing.

“okay but someone’s gotta tell her.” taehyung lowly mumbles, upper body turned to jimin, gracing you with his beautiful side profile - whoever gets to date him will forever be the lucky one.

“guys, i’m literally right here.” the sound of your voice warrants a turn of heads and a wide-eyed stare as though they’re seeing your ghost rather than your physical form that entered and picked a spot together with them.

it takes a moment for the elephant to settle somewhere in the corner and crush you with its invisible weight before taehyung turns to you, hand behind his mouth as he fake coughs into it. then, another moment for you to register taehyung’s words as you watch his mouth move and his gaze trained on you like a father teaching his daughter a life-lesson before he lets her out into the world. once his mouth stops moving and a second passes for you to take in the information, only two words leave your lips.

“you trippin’,” with a half-manic smile and brows knitted together, you look almost like you’re made for the asylum- but understandably, your admittance is overdue.

as your heart palpitate inside the confines of your rib cages and the scene from that night replays at the back of your eyes like a broken record - jungkook’s hesitant glance, the windows to his soul shutting tight with hesitance and the teeth that traps his lower lips as though his body is forbidding him to say whatever his heart and mind wanted - as much as it pains you to admit it, the signs were all there.

you just didn’t want to admit it.

that’s what pining over a best friend you’ve known for over a decade does.

the denial that comes after realizing you don’t want anyone else to touch jungkook when im nayoung stood on her tippy toes and pecked jungkook’s lips before running off with a flustered expression - you were both in elementary and jungkook was more into sleepovers with the abundance of plushies you had than hanging with ‘other kids’.

then comes the ugly head of self-loathing and guilt as you fixed park jihyo a smile as jungkook introduced you two. one, as his girlfriend and the other, his best friend.

both, in love with him.

it’s ugly and disgusting, jealousy that is. but you’re uglier for smiling and laughing with jihyo over the things you would with a best friend who’s a girl - there were things you couldn’t share with jungkook as a girl. but you’d let your eyes linger a second too on them as they shared a peck when he’d meet you too in front of the school gate after his extra class was over - you lost count of the times you wished you were her.

you carried the pathetic little mask of a smile to uni. by then, jungkook had broken up with jihyo. there was a lot of tears and consoling and empty words of assurance.

“hey, if you guys are meant to be, you’ll meet again someway somehow.” you’d fixed her an encouraging smile as your heart bloomed with hope for when you’ll get jungkook’s attention all to yourself once you start uni.

getting into the same one had been pure luck.

it didn’t bring you far though. jungkook started gaining attention for his friendly nature and bunny smile that attracted both males and females. it wasn’t long until he’s bringing you to parties where he’d keep you by his side because he knew you didn’t know most of these people. tried to get you involved in the conversation but there was nothing interesting about the dude who drank himself silly and woke up in front of an old lady’s door butt naked or about that girl who woke up a five minutes before class in a city an hour away from where her dorm is.

well, at least, none of them seemed like jungkook’s type. he never had a girlfriend throughout his years in uni though he had plenty of other experiences that makes you wonder what in the world he hasn’t tried yet.

being in a relationship, is probably the only thing he hasn’t done.

jungkook liked kind people. ones that didn’t point at a random person and say an offhanded comment and collectively laugh about it. someone that laughs and smiles a lot because and didn’t have a single bad bone in their body.

liked.

because you don’t know what kind of person jungkook likes now. but you never thought him asking a hypothetical question from what seems like another person's perspective about his lifestyle would be, as taehyung calls it-

“i’m telling you,” he slams a hand on the table, a loud pap! resonating in the air but he doesn’t seem bothered by the pain - if there is any - as his eyes bore into you, “that was jungkook shooting his shot!”

“i don’t know,” you take a sip from the metal straw of your matte black tumbler for the sake of doing something, “it doesn’t feel real but i can kind of see it?”

“take it for what it is, love,” the pull of his eyebrows together couldn’t have been more frustrating, “jungkook has every reason to have the fattest crush on you - i mean look at you, you’re funny, adorable and nicer than all his friends combined.”

jungkook has multiple friend groups he hangs out with. funny how you started out as duos and merged into a quadruplet and ended up being that friend group that jeon jungkook doesn’t really look like he fits in but he’s probably hanging out with you guys from time to time because you’d known each other the longest. or so word has it.

“that’s basically everyone who’s not his friends.” with an eye roll, you wrap your mouth around the straw. this time, for the sake of hiding the smile that threatens to bloom on your face as it is in your heart.

x

and that’s how you find yourself in more than one ‘don’t you dare’ moments. jimin has begun randomly pointing out something about your hair accessory to your clothes to your fucking strawberry printed socks. 

to prove a point, he said.

“hey beautiful,” oh, and he’s resorted to calling you all the adjectives in the world - but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t work in making jungkook’s face scrunch in displeasure for the briefest moment as he glances at jimin as though he’s an adjective away from beating the man into a bloody pulp, “nice shirt.”

despite knowing the comment is every bit staged - and probably doesn’t mean that your minnie and mickey mouse shirt is anywhere compliment-worthy, you still look down at the two mice, one kissing the other on the cheek.

the “uh, thanks,” couldn’t have been more dubious and skeptic.

and so begins jimin’s not-so-secret mission to bring jungkook’s attention to you.

“isn’t the stickers on ___’s mac cute, jungkook?” 

jungkook skims at the grizzly, panda and ice bears scattered across your mac before breaking into a smug smirk, “of course they are, i bought them for ___.”

you can almost hear jimin and taehyung high-fiving on the row behind you just as the professor walks in.

while jungkook seems to oblivious to it all, eyes trained to the display on the on the front, you allow yourself to indulge in the heat that seeps through your pores and warms your heart.

it’s not like jungkook stopped going to parties.

but finals season is almost upon you and he’s been hanging out with you more. sitting next to you in class while jimin and taehyung dozes off at the back. 

“they sleep in class just to spend hours on end studying at the library,” jungkook huffs, eyebrows knitting together adorably as he stresses over your two friends’ stamina for sitting in one place for six hours straight and only needing a bottle of water at their disposal, “i mean, why can’t they just focus in class so they don’t have to study a whole semester’s worth of syllabus in the last minute and drag us into it?”

the six hour mark ended and they’re out getting some snacks for you to secretly munch on until the library closes.

“i mean,” you begin, eyebrows jolting upwards at the more-than-obvious fact he’s supposed to already know, “you technically came here with your own free will, you’re free to leave whenever you want.”

another sigh hits the air as the boy slams his onto the book he has open in front of him, “yeah, but i need to study to pass and i needed you guys to push me,” he laments.

ever since then, there’d been far too many moments of where you’re stuck with jungkook to wait for the two non-time-abiding asses. at first, excuses like ‘sorry we’re late, we were getting mcdonald’s’ or some other poor fast food restaurants’ name that became the patsy, but they started dwindling to ‘oh hey, sorry, we didn’t notice the time’ and eventually a ‘hey, jimin’s got a meeting with a professor and he’s my ride so you guys go first’.

and before you know it, finals pass and you’re visiting your hometown while jungkook stuck around for a part-time job with taehyung whilst jimin drops off the face of the earth after having mentioned that he’s going on a family vacation at some private island with apparently the worst wifi connection ‘like ever.’

the two now-co-workers keep spamming the group chat with pictures of them in their uniforms, holding different drinks which they personally every time. when you’re staying over with your grandmother, it’s your turn to spam pictures of her great black cat who seem to only like sitting in her lap and glaring at you in every picture you take of the two watching tv together. almost as if he had a sixth sense when it comes to cameras.

“when are you coming back?” jungkook grumbles from the other end of line.

you’ve just got a shower and he’s just got home from a night shift. he’s probably haven’t even taken off his jacket yet when he proposed calling you like the sporadic times you both did throughout the break.

“i don’t know. i don’t feel like going back maybe even until the ceremony,” you confess, half-meaning it. the gardening, and saying hello’s to everyone you see while buying groceries because everyone knows everyone here, and the best-tasting cookies your grandma make, and waking up to her cat suffocating you in your sleep, isn’t so bad.

“i’m dying here,” he sighs, sounding more relaxed and probably lying on his bed now, “if i have to insist that i can’t ‘reheat’ coffee and can only make a new one and end up having to hide in the kitchen for five seconds to pretend like there’s a secret microwave only for coffees,” he says all in one breath before letting a suspenseful silence hang in the air and then finally revealing the next big thing he’ll do, “i’m seriously going to spit in their coffee while in the kitchen pretending to reheat it with an invisible microwave.”

the laughter that tumbles out of your mouth is probably ugly and you probably snorted a couple times but jungkook doesn’t seem to notice. or care as he keeps insisting ‘i’m really gonna do it’ whilst you end up laughing until your stomach hurts and tears begin to prick your eyes.

“is this the same regular that like, wants their coffee like super hot?” you finally manage to ask, traces of laughter still threatening to spill from your lips.

“yeah,” his sounds impressed, “how’d you know?”

“tae told me,” you make an incredulous face and shrug even though he can’t see, “you do realize you work at the same place, right?”

“yeah but i never see him talk about it in the group but i probably missed it-”

“oh no,” your hand goes up in a dismissive wave, “we talk on the phone and he told me about it.”

“you guys talk on the phone too?” there’s a strain in his voice, possibly out of surprise.

“yeah, like every day.” you say, tongue subconsciously lapping over your bottom lip.

“oh,” is all he says for the longest moment before chirping out the billion dollar question, “why aren’t we talking every day?”

“i don’t know,” your shoulder line rises, almost swallowing your neck as a war breaks out within yourself, “we did try at the beginning of break but you always had a party to go to so...”

“oh,” this ‘oh’ is a little bit dejected and perhaps hits a little different before he continues, “i don’t go to those anymore.”

this time, it’s your jaw that falls. your voice is small, almost as though cautiously teetering on tightrope as you ask, “...why not?”

“i just didn’t see the point of going anymore you know? once we graduate, i won’t even talk to these people anymore - but i wanna continue being friends with you guys.”

the ‘you guys’ meaning you, taehyung and jimin. the bros. the homies. it’s no secret that he probably sees you all as the same gender, not a guy nor a girl but just friends.

well. it’s not the first time jungkook’s friendzoned you.

“that’s great,” you can’t help but nod even though you know he can’t see you, “i wanna keep being friends with you too, jungkook.”

ever since then, you talk almost everyday. sometimes in three’s and when taehyung had a shift and jungkook got off his, it’d just be the two of you. and for the first time, in ages, it feels as though the ‘best’ in your friendship has somewhat reintroduced itself once more. jimin somewhat manages to get a connection somewhere along the way and the first thing he did was complain about the three digit number in a red bubble in the corner of the message app and then managing to get one picture of him in flowery trunks, and a baby monkey eating a banana perched on his shoulder with the beach in the background before disappearing for the rest of the month until two weeks before the graduation ceremony.

“so like, do you have anyone to pick you up?” jungkook asks from he other end of the line. he sounds more free since it’s the last day of his job.

“yeah,” you announce, attentiveness laced in your tone for your next words might be indicative enough, “my sister.”

“what.” he drags out the word in a disbelieving tone and it’s no secret why he’s doing that- “i haven’t seen you in ages! and you’re going to your sister’s? wait - this isn’t like a permanent thing right? we’ll get to hang out before the ceremony, right?”

it takes you a moment to register the series of questions he bombarded you with and before you know it, the silence has already turned your voice into a small and guilt-ridden, “um, yes and no?”

a groan.

“i haven’t seen seulgi in forever too and she kept nagging me to visit her during break but i never did so now she has like a whole week’s worth of itinerary planned out for us to do before the ceremony,” the excuse trickles out of your mouth hurriedly, “jungkook, i have to do this, or the next time we’ll meet it’s at my funeral and you’ll be talking to my dead carcass before they bury me.”

it takes a moment of anticipating silence before he grumbles out a “fine. but after that, you’re staying over at my place.”

“okay but i mean if we’re having stay over’s wouldn’t tae’s place be better since he has a whole ass apartment for himself?” you’re at that point where you’re discussing stay over arrangements before actually consulting the owner of the place.

“i guess,” his voice is a little lower and smaller but it revives at the mention of the new pizza place that just opened before you decided to invite the other two in the call to make plans to visit there.

when the day finally comes for you to don the royal blue robe and cap, you do so with barely enough grace and composure for someone who’s about to receive her blood sweat and tears on a stage all because you and your sister are - this must be karma for shading taehyung and jimin for being - a bunch of non-time-abiding asses.

the double doors are almost closed as you struggle with not tripping on your high heels whilst trying to keep your hair out of your face.

“where have you been?” you almost didn’t recognize the golden man who tapped you on your shoulder from behind.

“jimin! you made it!” is the first thing you say.

“rich coming from someone who barely got to her seat in time,” he gives you a once over and you’re not quite sure what he sees because your back which he’ll be looking most at is clad is oversized blue robe. but despite that, you reach out to give his hand a squeeze and he takes it with just as a tight, ‘we made it’ kind of squeeze before you turn to the chancellor that’s beginning his speech.

you’re not sure which row jungkook is at or if he even sees you and you read taehyung’s ‘i feel like a proud momma’ text because his major adds another year to his studies than you, jimin and jungkook.

the ceremony goes on without a hitch and you’d like to believe your picture is as perfect as your make up which your sister claims to be ‘out of this world!’ - only because it’s her that did it.

“so you guys talk everyday?” jimin pulls you into him, a smile gracing his beautifully tanned skin as he steals a glance at something behind your shoulders - possibly jungkook whom you saw was being swarmed by his friends to take pictures with.

“yeah, i guess,” you casually say with a shrug.

“it’s true, i was there,” taehyung comes up next to you, replacing jimin’s arms with his in a side hug.

“man, i really wish i witness it all,” jimin grumbles, “but the connection on that island was shitty.”

“i’m sure you connected in different ways,” the taller man adds, a strain in his voice which the shorter doesn’t seem to notice as he try to wave off the belatedly relayed fact that his family is a different kind of family.

like the kind that invites sex workers and other business colleagues alike to enjoy themselves for as long as they wanted, as long as the park family was there.

“okay but how long is he going to take?” jimin quizzes, eyebrows soaring whilst you and taehyung follow his gaze to the growing size of people a few feet away who clearly look like they’re here for a photoshoot than a simple graduation ceremony, “my parents kinda skipped work to see me go on stage and get a piece of paper they paid a lot for so i kinda want to get the family pic done before i go to my second family...”

time doesn’t seem to stop like they do in the movies. it happens all too fast, in fact - jimin’s voice fading into the background, the countdown of the person taking the picture of the group of graduates jungkook’s in starting from three, two, one! and a girl with the prettiest curls that seem to bounce as she turns around and stick her tongue into jungkook’s mouth.

it must have been your uncanny silence that draws the attention of the two boys and a ‘oh shit...’ from one of them - you’re not sure who even though taehyung and jimin has two distinctly sounding voice.

all you’re sure of is the involuntary movements of your feet as they carry you away from the scene. your eyes are dry but that’s probably only because your brain hasn’t registered what exactly happened though deep down, you’re perfectly aware of the fact that those daily calls, the spams of good mornings and randomly sending each other selfies were nothing more than exchanges between two people who were onlu ever connected through a childhood bond that got translated into best friendship just because there was no other name for knowing someone for so long even though you probably stopped being friends first year of college.

“___! wait!” someone calls for you and you wish it so badly to be jungkook but you know better than to expect for the impossible. a modern day fairy tale.

“hey, don’t cry. jungkook’s a fucking dick,” the tall stature that finally caught up to you and trapped you in his arms, whispers. gentle, understanding and pitiful.

it’s not just the comforting warmth, it’s also the hand that’s rubbing your back that you know is probably jimin’s that makes you break out into your first sob. whilst the day isn’t exactly free of tears, those who did shed them did it out of gratitude and a sort of ‘i did it’ kind of relief but not you.

today, your cheeks are marred by the excruciating pain of a heartbreak. you might as well tear your chest open, take out the beating organ and hand it over to jungkook so he could crush them with his own two hands.

maybe it’d hurt less.

somewhere amidst your fit, you choke on your laughter as you catch the two bickering.

“that’s not how you comfort a crying lady, taehyung, what the fuck?” jimin doesn’t hold back with his colorful words.

“what? what did i do?” the taller man sounds all the more confused but still pass you on to the shorter one like a gift basket when a hand pulls you into another pair of arms.

a hand patting your head as jimin murmurs, “there, there, you’re going to be okay, sweetie,” he hugs you just a tad bit tighter as though to say i promise, “you’re young, you’re beautiful and you just graduated with honors. in five years you won’t even remember your little crush for jungcockhead.”

you would have laughed if not for the shadow in your periphery stopping dead in its trek just a few feet away from you and close enough to hear every word jimin uttered in his attempt to placate your rising desire to flee the scene.

“what?” even a simple syllable is enough to tell you who the voice belongs to. perhaps it’s because you’ve heard it in real life and on the phone countless times and countless more during the span where he worked sporadic shifts and you were gardening and getting scratched by your grandmother’s cat that you tried relentlessly to befriend.

“nothing, jungkook.” you wish it was you who said it but it’s jimin who’s hugging you tighter like a mother comforting their heartbroken child, “why don’t you go back to your girlfriend and stick your face where it’s actually wanted?”

almost as though physically slapped in the face.

with a brick.

jungkook’s shoulder line jolts as he flinches, brows knitting together as you can almost see the rewind of the moment your heart gets split in two. she has the prettiest, softest tanned complexion, luscious curls and body that fits the definition of a glowed-up.

he takes one step forward but stops when you shrink into jimin’s arms, almost as though seeking protection. but it takes everything in you not to run to him and make up an excuse about feeling hot and stuffy and that being the reason you left, when the crestfallen expression mars his otherwise ever-smiling features. 

“that wasn’t what you thought it was-” you could almost swear he chokes at the end of his words but the pause is too short to tell, “i left her as soon as i saw you running off.”

“oh my god, cut the bullshit! this isn’t the first time and this won’t be the last. don’t talk to ___, don’t even look at her, douchebag,” the rumble of jimin’s voice vibrates against you as he pokes taehyung in the rib, making the boy cry out in pain.

the assaulted man has half a mind to ask for further instructions when he turns to you and jimin but decides against it, squaring up his shoulders and placing a warning hand, “just leave, man. ___ clearly doesn’t wanna talk to you right now.”

“ever.” jimin half-shouts.

those deep brown eyes search for yours as though holding on the last strand of what you call best friendship - hoping, wishing that it isn’t true. but as soon as they find your puffy eyes, you throw your gaze to the ground, finding the crack in the asphalt in a better state than your heart.

you can only imagine jungkook’s face falling at your refusal to affirm the strength of years’ worth of friendship. because the fact of the matter is, you’re not so sure if you want to keep pretending to be oblivious as he wraps his arms around another person and kiss them like he means it.

x

“___,” the bed dips as you feel the weight of the blanket get yanked off you. seulgi’s sweet peaches perfume filling your senses, “get up, it’s been days since you had an actual meal.”

“i’m not hungry,” you grumble against the pillow just as your stomach starts making the most monstrous sound ever existed in history of mankind.

“yeah right,” she scoffs but her hand on your arm is warm and soothing, “come on, please eat something - i’m saying ‘please’ here and you know i never say ‘please’. people say ‘please’ to me.” 

you can’t help but laugh at that. seulgi’s never truly begged anyone for anything in her entire life. she would have asked once and left you be until you were done moping around over jungkook getting with jihyo. it was after you did get over your first heartbreak, did she get you ice cream and you’d spent the night in her room with fairy lights and forts, watching the notebook.

“don’t let a boy hurt you like that again, ___, promise me.” she held up a pinky, and yours felt like a ton of weight just dropped over you.

in the end, you hooked your pink with hers and made a promise of sisterhood.

but she hadn’t been there when you needed your off days in college when rumors started spreading about jungkook and a different girl every week.

the wounds to your ever bleeding heart don’t heal. but you got used to picking yourself up and you got better at that with that one class you failed, that one presentation you blew, the humiliating mistake you made in front of your supervisor and every time after that. seulgi had her own ways to deal with problems and you had yours - or maybe patching yourself up after a fuck up was more of your forte.

who knows?

“what’s for dinner?”

“really?” at your inquiry, the face you thought would light up like a christmas tree - doesn’t. if anything, she bites her bottom lip just like you just caught her red-handed for doing something you probably won’t like.

“what?” you ask plainly, at this point, you won’t even be surprised if she said the sky is falling.

it’s not.

but her next words are far more foreboding than the end of the world, “look, jungkook came over like he always did everyday since that day and today i wanted him to stop coming for good so i told him if you at least have the energy to get some food, i’d let him see you,” her eyes glimmer with a sort of remorse that you can’t even hold her against.

“then can’t you tell him i still don’t wanna eat?” is what you say, completely unperturbed or rather not registering the fact that your best friend whom you’ve been in love with for as long as you can remember is in your sister’s living room because he probably heard about your hunger strike. 

but the only problem is, he’s not in the living room-

“he’s right outside the room. i told him he can stand there and see for himself how bad he fucked you over so he’ll feel bad enough to leave you alone.” she says in a hurried whisper, eyes glancing to the half-agape door every second.

a spark lights up inside you, like smolders blown by wind and flares into flames, “seriously? you couldn’t talk to me first about it?”

her eyebrows furrow as her mouth opens and closes for a moment before she confesses, “...i didn’t think you’d say yes to lunch.”

“whatever just-” you tear your gaze away from your sister’s involuntary puppy eyes just so you wouldn’t end up clawing them out yourself, “...just go, seulgi.”

for the longest yet briefest moment, the only thing you can hear in the room is your steady breathing. the flame still burns but it doesn’t flare into a raging fireball. and you know full well it probably isn’t easy for jungkook to pass to through the door after having heard how you reacted when you found out he’s just outside.

when he does, he doesn’t even hide the way his doe eyes shine with something you can’t pinpoint as he takes you in. all of you. with your mused, oily hair and three day’s worth of hoodie and puffed eyes.

“hey,” he murmurs ever so softly, the bed dipping where seulgi sat.

you echo the same greeting back but with a hoarser voice compared to his velvet one.

“so, what do you want for dinner?” he begins, cautious eyes finding yours.

“i don’t want it anymore,” is all you say as you shrug casually.

“oh.” he sounds fragile. nothing at all like the self-assured jeon jungkook you’ve come to know.

silence fills the room like a big, blue elephant. seconds stretch on into minutes and you find yourself leaning against the headboard, drawing invisible patterns over the sheets while jungkook-

you don’t know what he’s doing. he could be fiddling with his fingers like how 10-year-old him would whenever you met at your favorite spot after a fight. but you’re both no where near 10 and if there’s any traces of the boy you once called your best friend, it’s probably only his appearance that’s never really changed.

either way, you don’t dare to even steal a glance his way.

“i like you too.”

the words hit the air like a drop of water that vaporized faster than what science dictates it too. you almost thought you were hearing things if not for the way he looks at you. as though waiting for something. anything.

“i...” you trail off before shaking your head, almost as though coming to your senses, “i can’t do this.”

jungkook laughs awkwardly, hand scratching the back of his head, “yeah, i understand - i’m sorry i- i just wanted to make sure you’re fine and then i got carried away- i should leave.”

but before he takes a step towards the door, you call for him, “jungkook, wait.”

“i’m leaving for japan in two days,” you finally let the cat out of the bag.

“what?” comes out a second later - you don’t dare to look up from your hands to see what kind of emotion he’s making.

but he at least deserves an explanation, “for the longest time, i feel fucked up because i get so jealous of the girls that dated you...” taking a deep breath, you continue, “but i know it’s because i think i’m not enough-”

“you are - you’re more than enough,” the interjection is what makes you look up involuntarily, if not to confirm it yourself - the knitted eyebrows and heartbroken gaze proves it and then the sinking realization settles in, “but you don’t believe me.”

you shake your head, a bitter smile on your lips, “i’m not enough for me and that’s something i have to work with.”

“by running away?” his voice rises to the ceiling, confusion and frustration pooling in his eyes.

“by finding myself,” you correct, “you know like how people go to a different country and come back a different person except i’m hoping to find that person.”

“in japan,” he sounds like he’s a word away from hooking you up with a specialist - not that you haven’t thought of one but-

you laugh and he looks at you like he’s stuck in the middle of a never ending maze, “my mom’s planning to visit my aunt in japan and since i’m officially unemployed i guess, i’m tagging along.”

“oh,” his shoulder line sags as he sighs in relief, “so like a vacation.”

it tenses back up when you say, “i might look for a job there.”

“you’re permanently moving to japan?” jungkook’s body seems to be here but his conscience seems to have flown out - probably to japan.

you want to laugh but it doesn’t seem like a proper setting for it. especially when you’re confessing to your crush that you like him but also subtly admitting that he’s partly the reason you’re leaving the life you know for a new one. and you might not even do it willingly.

“i might find a job with a branch company in korea - work there for a year and then transfer here,” you shrug, “i don’t know.”

“i-is this because-” he starts but you shake your head.

“yes and no?” you say, “none of this is your fault but i’m projecting my frustrations onto you and this isn’t healthy... i need- i need to go away for awhile and figure myself out.”

and that’s how jeon jungkook finally comes to the realization that nothing’s been the same. you haven’t been the best friend you prided yourself to be for a long time and that best friend completely disappeared in second year of college after he started spending nights at parties and only lunches with you. until eventually, you’re stuck in a habit - a cycle that you can’t break from until something dramatic or life changing happens.

and so it goes, he sees you off at the airport with taehyung and jimin. unsure of whether they were still friends after they’d deliberately stopped him from running after you on your graduation day, they were the first to approach him. they understood that it’d only be worse if he chased after you but they didn’t hate him - dislike him at times when - as they called it - he was so damn clueless, yes but they didn’t hate him. and that was a relief.

nothing major changed. he moved in with taehyung and jimin and even got a job at the same company as jimin. you went off radar but still kept in contact every once in awhile - it was like that time jimin went to that private island except you had all the reception you needed, just not the time to text as much as you used to.

job hunting was tough and he understood the competition. when you got a job, you were plagued with a newbie’s role, having to do overtimes to finish up work that was piling before they gave you that position.

then one year turned to two and two years turned to three. jungkook became a manager while jimin took up the position as a secretary in their rival company - it’s funny because everyone at the office would shit-talk him and they would make fun of those people as they drink into the night.

jungkook lost contact with most of his party friends - they were great with hooking him up with a potential client but besides that, he was basically living the workaholic life with his two apartment mates as his only source of social interaction outside of work.

from meetings to gatherings to meetings and then private dinners with clients. the cycle goes on until that one evening where arrives at an invites-only event.

“jungkook, come here,” the director gestures him over and because there’s a server blocking his view, he only notices the girl standing in front of his superior, when he’s finally by his side.

“...a hardworker - every project he’s ever handled hits the internet like a boom!” the director was saying.

“ah jungkook,” the man taps him on his shoulder but he can barely feel it when his eyes are trained on you, stunning in that deep toned dress and new hairstyle, “meet ___, you guys will be working on the twin tower project together.”

x

“so you’re back for good?” he asks when you’re finally alone, lingering at the balcony and away from your superior’s eyes.

“not quite - i still have to fly to japan every week,” you shrug casually.

“oh,” he nods.

“you look great by the way,” he adds a moment later, scuffing his foot against the floor.

you can’t help but giggle at how boyish he is, even at the age of 25, he still acts like a child, “thanks - you don’t look half bad yourself.”

he echoes a “thanks” as well before throwing his gaze over the magnificient view of the cityscape. artificial lights from the buildings appear like stagnant fireflies. it’s sad that they’re the reason you can’t see stars anymore.

but fate is too cruel.

because hoseok, your partner is calling you over - a couple of middle aged people standing next to him, smiling that mechanical smile that isn’t any different from your business smile.

“i gotta go,” you sigh but shoot him one last melancholy smile, “i’ll see you this monday?”

“yeah, see you this monday.” jungkook smiles a smile that says he’s not so sure where you stand. colleagues. ex-best friends. acquaintances?

with a wave goodbye, he watches as you strut to the couple, transforming into a woman so sure of every gesture, even a smile and a throw of your head back as you laugh. everything you do, every movement you make is mesmerizing. 

and he knows he’s not the only one who thinks so as he watches your partner gaze at you with eyes that doesn’t seem to see anyone else but you. laughs at something you say as if he’s completely enchanted.

jungkook turns around, hand propped on the railing as he takes a sip of the wine he’s been holding. without realizing it, a smile slips onto his face, he makes a mental note to check your company’s dating policy.

most forbid office romances anyway.

x

note. i’ve had this in the draft for forever! and thought i was never gonna finish this but i somehow got a burst of inspiration yesterday and here we are! hope yall enjoyed!

[hongism]

mists of celeste ➻ 35

➻ pairing: ??? x fem reader ➻ genre: space au, pirate au, space pirate!ateez, angst, smut ➻ Word Count: 13.0k ➻ Rating: M ➻ Warnings: language, violence, guns and weaponry, blood, future warnings tba chapter specific warnings: mentions of past abuse, violence, anxiety    ➻ summary: Sneaking aboard the ship of a renowned space pirate may not have been the best idea, but you’ll have to make do with what fate has handed to you

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✧✧✧ act five ➻ part two

​​​​

It is nearing nightfall by the time you all return to the ship. Yunho has already gotten Hongjoong settled in the medbay with Jongho’s help, as well as set him up with an oxygen mask and an IV, and to be frank, the sight of the infamous pirate captain splayed out so helplessly was hard to see. Whatever you were feeling must have been increased tenfold for the man who stood at your side during the whole process because you could feel the panic oozing off his bones, a nagging sensation that fell on you as well. As much as he tried to help, Yunho asked him to let him and Jongho take care of it, and Seonghwa caved with a surprising amount of haste. For better or worse, you don’t have to stay long there before Seonghwa is pulling you out to head up to the main airlock. It can only be worse because of who is waiting for you there: none other than Han Jisung come to join the crew for inexplicable reasons unbeknownst to you right now. And that is why you shift to look at Seonghwa’s sharp side profile as the two of you walk to join Yeosang in waiting by the airlock.

“Why are we bringing him aboard?”

“We need Jisung for information, and it will be less of a hassle to have him aboard,” Seonghwa explains through a clipped sigh. “I don’t trust the man as far as I can throw him, but… at least I can keep an eye on him this way.”

“Why can’t we just have Wooyoung help us through the dreams instead?”

Seonghwa glances over at you, and your eyes meet for the briefest of moments before he looks forward once more.

“We don’t know how to communicate with him yet,” Seonghwa explains. His tone is a bit more gentle this time, nothing goading or forced but rather a genuine attempt to ease some of your bubbling anxieties. “You can’t talk to him, ask him questions, or consistently control his body long enough to figure out where they’re being held. Besides, they are locked in a cell, and you can’t very well ask a guard where they are. Until we learn more about this situation and your connection to each other, this is the best course of action.”

“Would Hongjoong let him on the ship?” You inquire. You can already assume the answer, and you’re only asking for some sort of confirmation that this is a bad idea, but Seonghwa presses his lips together to form a thin line.

“Hongjoong would understand how critical the situation at hand is.”

“Would you let him walk away without a fight too?” It is a bit out of line and far too bitter, but the words are already out of your mouth before you can stop yourself. Seonghwa freezes in place, steps coming to a sudden halt whilst you just continue walking as though you didn’t say a word. You can feel the way his eyes glare holes into the back of your head, and the twinge in your chest that pains your heart surely does not come from you. A wave of pain hits you as you turn to look Seonghwa in the eye.

“Hongjoong is different,” he whispers. “You know that. It isn’t that I don’t love or care about you, because I do. I feel both those things when it comes to you, in ways I can’t even begin to describe, which is why I want you to be happy and have a chance at freedom.”

“With someone whom you don’t trust or know?”

“You know and trust him yourself, do you not?” Seonghwa counters without missing a beat. “Am I supposed to decided who you trust now? Was it not you who told me that I didn’t need to worry about you? Shouldn’t doubt your abilities? I’ve already told you that I am not happy about this situation at all, but still I will not decide this for you, even if you ask me to.”

“Then what am I supposed to think? Right now it feels like you only want me gone so you can feel less guilty about going back to Hongjoong at the end of the day.” You turn on your heel, fully prepared to leave him standing there on his own in the heat of your unreasonable annoyance. Seonghwa closes the distance between your bodies with a surprising haste and grabs hold of your wrist, spinning you back around to face him in no time. You hardly have time to breathe before he’s knocking the air out of you by pressing you up against the wall of the corridor. You know what’s coming next before it happens, and it’s for that exact reason that you dip your chin to the side as Seonghwa moves in to plant his lips atop yours.

A dry and emotionless laugh escapes his lips instead, and you stare at the floor with eyes burning more than ever. Seonghwa slams a hand down hard on the space of metal beside your head.

“I should never have been selfish with you,” he mutters. You try not to think about how much bitterness his tone holds. “That was a mistake on my part. There is no security or certainty in a life like ours, nothing I can provide that would give you either of those things. I’m sorry for making you believe that I could ever give you something as certain as that.”

A thought dashes across the forefront of your mind, one that tells you to swallow the hurt nagging at your chest and take comfort in his body instead, but it doesn’t last long. You know better, and you know it wouldn’t fix anything in the long run. It will only make it harder on both of you if you let yourselves get any more attached before your inevitable demise that ends in you leaving with Jisung.

“Do you regret this?” Your voice could not possibly be more quiet than it is now. You lift a shaky hand to his chest, pressing your palm hard against the spot that now emanates the most pain. “Getting close and such?” Seonghwa shifts to place his hand over yours but hesitates at the last second. His lips twist into a strained smile.

“I do, but only because it is ending with you in pain. No, I don’t regret any of the time I spent with you, and I still mean everything I told you. Perhaps this is for the best. I am content with the time I got to spend with you, and I won’t ask for anything more than that.”

“All I wanted you to do was stop me,” you plea as though it will make him change his mind right here and now.

“There’s nothing to stop yet, Y/N.”

“Do you need me to show you how badly I don’t want to go for you to stop me?” Seonghwa exhales a deep heave of air and pulls away from you.

“What do you want more than anything else?”

“San back safely.” Seonghwa barely finishes his question by the time you’re answering, but in your mind, there is no need for any sort of hesitation. If Seonghwa is surprised at all, he doesn’t let it slip through; all he does is smile back at you. You only realize your mistake after the fact, stuttering in your next rush to speak. “A-And Mingi and W-Wooyoung as well.”

“What about after that then?”

His question doesn’t stump you because you don’t know the answer. You know what it is you want when this is all over. You want to rest, to stop running, for all this mess to be done with, and you don’t want to have to worry about your safety at every turn. You don’t want to wake up in a cold sweat afraid that the people you care about could be dead. You desperately want peace, but you aren’t brave enough to make the sacrifices that will get you there. Even so, there is no way you could admit it now because that would only make Seonghwa right.

“Your silence is answer enough for me.”

“That isn’t what I want with Jisung though,” you insist. “He is my past, not my future. I never let myself imagine a scenario in which I would see him again. I’ve made it this far with you all. I don’t want to leave you behind now. And even after we get the others back, I still won’t want to leave them behind either.”

“That may be the case, Y/N, but it’s — the truth of the matter is that no matter what, my first duty will always be to protect Hongjoong as his lieutenant. Perhaps that is why those lingering feelings of love are still present, but it also means that I don’t know if I can give you my love and promise to stop loving him as well. That’s — that’s beside the point though.” Seonghwa shakes his head, hand coming up to comb through his dark locks for a second before dropping back to his side. “If how I feel about Hongjoong is something you aren’t okay with, then I don’t want you to wait on me or my feelings. That isn’t what I want for you. However, this conversation can continue another time. We’ve kept Yeosang waiting long enough.”

There isn’t an opportunity to say anything more because Seonghwa steps away and returns to walking down the corridor without even waiting to see if you’ll follow. You have to jog to catch up with his broad strides, falling into step beside him with a bit more hesitance in your movements this time.

“Has… has Jisung learned anything yet?”

“The person behind all of this is still not guaranteed. Vladimir was merely an instrument for these plans, but according to Jisung, he said that there would be a special exchange on Dorado for Mingi and the others. Since you were originally the one they wanted, there is still uncertainty about what they plan to do with Wooyoung and San. Mingi, on the other hand, is set to be sent to a recreational facility on Dorado that specializes in Berserker training for pirate and bandit crews. They plan to reprogram him back into – into the Brute of Kebos, at which point he will be sent back to Vladimir. That’s apparently the bargain he made to agree to this plan. You were the prize meant for the other party but obviously, that fell through.”

“Why me of all people? With all the people on this ship, why am I significant in the slightest? Especially on Dorado of all places?”

Seonghwa shakes his head from side to side.

“Vladimir didn’t mention anything in the past few meetings Jisung has attended. We don’t even have the slightest clue as to why they want you, and still no word on who these people even are. Of course, the Ghost of Eros is valuable, there’s no doubt about that, but not this far from Eros and the Aurum system. And they certainly wouldn’t go to these lengths to get you.” His words die there, voice falling flat along with the sentence, and you watch him in silence for several seconds before he shifts to place a gentle hand on your shoulder. “It is evident that someone in the universe is looking for you, and they are taking great risks to get you.”

“They will have to try a lot harder than that if they want me.”

Seonghwa blinks back at you, eyes perceptive and searching as always. He seems to figure something out at that moment because his stare widens a bit before dropping to the floor without a word.

“What’s wrong?” You inquire, leaning closer to look at his face better.

“Nothing. Just a hunch. I’ll let you know if it becomes a concern later.” He shrugs off the concern and lets his hand fall off your shoulder to motion down the corridor. Yeosang has surely grown impatient by now, and it’s that thought that causes your steps and Seonghwa’s to increase in pace to meet him at the airlock. Only, once you finally reach that place, you find that he is not alone, and Jisung stands directly across from the taller blond, starkly out of place in front of Yeosang. You don’t need to visibly see Yeosang’s expression to know that the Elitist is glaring at Jisung – it’s evident in the way Yeosang speaks through his body with the tense shoulders and crossed arms, chin inclined just enough to be condescending, yet Jisung doesn’t seem phased by the man in the slightest. In fact, he just turns to you, eyes bright as ever, and grins from ear to ear like a Cheshire.

“Hey, little lady.” Something in the way he speaks those words with that smile that is branded on your brain and hand quickly darting out in your direction triggers a memory you didn’t know you had.

“Stop being a fucking idiot! You know I’m better than you, don’t you?” A hand stretches out towards you, writhing forward like a snake in the darkness, and you flinch away from the touch despite knowing that the man won’t lay a hand on you. “The next person who dares to say that to you will die a painful death.”

“J-Jisung?”

“I don’t care what kind of monster I become in their eyes. If I go to hell, so be it. They touch you, they die. Those are the rules, aren’t they? If anyone other than me lays a single finger on you…” Jisung trails off, lips twisting into a smile that is far too cruel for his gentle and precious features. “I will deliver a slow and deliberate death to each of them.”

Jisung’s hand is about to brush over your wrist – the one that bears the brand of your betrayal – when Yeosang steps between your body and his, hand coming up to knock Jisung’s own out of the way.

“It would be best for you to not cause any issues while you’re here,” the Elitist murmurs. He cocks his head to the side, maintaining that cruel and cocky air about his shoulders as he looks down at Jisung. “I’m not one for forgiveness, and you are merely here as a guest. Someone who isn’t important to the crew and has no place here. You would do well to remember that before trying to lay a hand on anyone in the crew.”

A scowl overtakes Jisung’s expression, and the man steps back to put some distance between himself and Yeosang.

“I knew her for five years. Perhaps you are the one who needs to remember your place, no?” Jisung jerks his chin forward a bit. “Or does the Royal Betrayer still think he has some impact and power over others?”

Yeosang might have lunged straight through Jisung’s throat for that comment if not for the way Seonghwa rushes to clamp his hand down hard on the man’s shoulder. He tugs Yeosang back with as much force as he can, but the simmering expression of anger on the lieutenant’s features is directed solely at Jisung.

“I would advise you to watch your mouth, Han. As acting caption, I decide your place on this ship, and that is as a guest. We need you for the time being but not in the long run, thus you ought to learn your place and remember that well.” Seonghwa plasters a stretched grin over his lips. “Now, if you would please follow me to the bridge, we can discuss in more detail the plans moving forward.”

He motions past Yeosang’s shoulder to the corridor leading to the bridge, but Jisung’s only response is to continue staring at you without saying anything for several seconds. Seonghwa’s gaze flits over to Yeosang, and the pair exchange a discreet nod before Yeosang shifts in your direction. His hand finds your arm, clamping down hard on the skin as he moves to pull you along, but another hand snakes out to push between the two of you.

“Is it not common courtesy amongst royalty to ask a lady before touching her?” Jisung bears a smile but venom drips from his tone in a way that sends shivers down your spine.

“I hate the military. Every single general and commander is corrupt beyond belief. There’s no circle in hell low enough for them. But those higher-ups? The royals who sit on their thrones and sip their expensive wine while prancing around like utter fools as the rest of us folk suffer and die on the streets… they’re the worst scum in the entire universe.”

Jisung has never liked people in positions of power, but his incessant rants about royals were always the worst to sit through because he could go on for hours and hours. Thus, it doesn’t surprise you to see him bearing such a disdain for Yeosang. Even so, you do find it a bit odd seeing as Yeosang is hardly in a position of power now, and he is no longer a royal so there isn’t much he could do with that nonexistent power.

“Think you can just take anything for yourself, is that it?”

“Han Jisung,” Seonghwa hisses, teeth so tightly pressed together that the air whistles through them. “I have no qualms tying you to a chair in the brig and extracting information from you that way. You should consider me to be merciful because if Scourge were here, he would have already dragged you there by your ankles. Learn your place before I force you to.”

One corner of Jisung’s lips tugs upwards as he grins at the lieutenant.

“Aye, aye, acting Captain.”

You can breathe easy again after that thankfully because Seonghwa manages to tug Jisung down the hall without any further disturbances. Yeosang stands completely still and watches the two retreat without saying a word for a short period of time.

“Your taste in men is questionable at best,” he grumbles after a bit, eyes continuing to bore holes into Jisung’s back.

“He just—” You stop yourself before any sort of defense slips out. It isn’t your job to defend him anymore. You have no need to protect him or say anything good about him at all. Yet even though you don’t need to, that inherent need to do so still resides in your gut. “He doesn’t like people in positions of power.”

“Is that so?” Yeosang hums to himself then shakes his head. “Come on. We can discuss the dreams you’ve been having and things you’ve noticed since coming on the ship while they’re discussing plans.”

It’s enough indication for you to realize that he no longer wants to discuss Jisung, and that is frankly fine by you. The silence it leaves you in, however, is not welcome. You don’t realize how vehemently you are rubbing at the brand on the inside of your wrist until Yeosang glances over at you and comments on the repetitive motion.

“You’re going to rub the skin raw if you keep doing that.”

“O-Oh,” you exhale, clenching your fingers into a tight fist and dropping your arms to your side. That’s all he says for the rest of the arguably short walk to his quarters, and he maintains a distance of several feet between you the entire time.

“You can sit on the bed as long as you don’t touch anything,” Yeosang mutters once inside his room.

It’s a basic and unadorned room, something you didn’t expect from a man who grew up surrounded by excessive lavishness, but for some odd reason, it is so inexplicably Yeosang that you can’t be too surprised. The blond heads straight for a small desk pushed into the corner of the room, one that sits beside a tall bookshelf similar to the ones you see in Seonghwa’s room. You do as told and sit on the corner of the bed so close to the edge that you practically fall off. There’s no need to be comfortable if you aren’t going to be staying for long after all.

“I don't need you messing anything else up so just stay put,” Yeosang says as he sinks onto the cushioned seat behind the desk. You pin him to the spot with a glare.

“Messing anything else up? What’s your issue with me?” You spit, arms coming up to cross over your chest.

“Hm? Does there have to be a reason for me to not like you?”

“I don’t get what your fucking problem with me is. Ever since joining the crew, I have done nothing that directly hurts you or puts you in danger, so what the fuck is your issue with me?”

“Is that so?” Yeosang arches a brow in your direction and matches your glare with one of his own. “If not for you, Wooyoung would still be here. Did you forget about that?”

That bites a bit too hard at your skin; it digs its way into your system and buries itself there to eat away at your bones. It’s the same guilt that has been eating away at you for the past few days, and you don’t need Yeosang to bring it up now and make it worse for you.

“Like it or not, I have a connection with Wooyoung and we have to work together to get him, San, and Mingi back.”

“I hate you,” Yeosang hisses. “I hate everything about you. And I especially hate your connection with Wooyoung. You are going to ruin him, and I hate you for it.” The tone he speaks with betrays the fact that there is more to it than that, but you aren’t particularly in the mood to have a tell-all discussion about all the reasons why Yeosang hates you. A pent-up confession, yes, but still not quite all there is to know.

“It’s not my fault that there’s something there. I didn’t ask for this, and I certainly don’t want it. I would be perfectly content being some damn Normie who didn’t have to worry about something like this,” you ramble without stopping to take a breath once. You blink furiously at the man as you catch your breath, eyes still blazing with uncontained rage when you decide to speak again. “It sounds like you are just jealous that you can’t be the one with a connection to him. Did you get everything you wanted when you were a prince? Is Wooyoung the one thing you can’t have?”

Yeosang lifts an old book off his desk and chucks it at the wall adjacent to him. It slams hard against the metal with a clang. You manage not to flinch in the slightest, staring Yeosang down with the same amount of heat as before.

“Allow me to have an ounce of jealousy! I got to choose absolutely nothing in my life while I was a prince, contrary to popular belief. Everything was selected for me, whether it was by my bastard father or the whore that was my mother. Hell, even my younger brother got to choose more than I did! I didn’t choose Wooyoung, but my love for him is one of the only things I ever got to choose back then. Does that let you just waltz in here and have this inexplicable connection to him? When fate told us that we were never even supposed to meet? I won’t ask for your forgiveness in this matter, because I have every right in the universe to be angered and jealous.”

“Then at least stop hating me for something I could not choose,” you demand, nose wrinkling in disgust as you spit the words in Yeosang’s direction.

“Protecting Wooyoung at all costs is the only thing that truly matters to me.” Yeosang lets out a deep sigh and looks down at the desk before him. “I’ll stop hating you when you prove yourself not to be a threat to Wooyoung’s safety.”

“How do you expect me to do that?”

“Getting Wooyoung back in one piece would be a fantastic place to start, don’t you think? Do you not feel that same way about San?” There’s a twitch in the corner of your eye that won’t go away even after Yeosang finishes speaking.

“I don’t like what you are trying to imply with that, Yeosang.”

“Take it as you will,” the man states in response. He angles his sharp chin towards you, blond hair wavering a bit with the sudden motion. “Your feelings might still be a mystery to me, but I have known San for years. I know him well enough to see how clear his feelings are for you and what you mean to him. Is that not what is holding you back from our dearest lieutenant?”

A bitter taste of ambiguity resides in his tone, and it’s something that you cannot get out of your mind. Yet the more you think about it, the more confusing it seems to get because there is no clear answer to Yeosang’s question. All this time, you figured it was Seonghwa who was holding back thanks to how he feels about Hongjoong. Sure, there was a possibility of your past love for Jisung getting in the way too but the realization that you would have to lose this crew in order to go back to him quickly dispelled the romantic notion of returning to him. San was never part of the picture — at least not in the way you think Yeosang is insinuating.

“What do you mean?” You ask after several breaths of terse silence. Yeosang doesn’t answer quite yet; he returns to staring blankly at the wood of his desk, fingers of his right hand coming up to rub at the inside of his left wrist without reason. You’re well aware of what lies under the fabric of his black shirt, the brand on his skin that you bear on your own, and the losses that came along with such a mark.

“In order to give your all to someone,” he starts in a quiet tone, “you have to be willing to make sacrifices. I gave up a lot to save Wooyoung, but seeing the look on his face once we were finally free made all of it worth it. I would never go back unless it was to fully guarantee Wooyoung’s safety. You still haven’t found that moment with Seonghwa have you?”

Your eyes give away the answer to that question in the way your darting gaze slips to the floor and avoids Yeosang’s insistent aura.

“Seonghwa mentioned the deal you made with Han to gain his cooperation in this mess. And how you don’t truly want to follow through with your end of the deal, yet you’re doing it anyway. For what reason?” You open your mouth to respond only to realize that it is merely meant as a rhetorical question when Yeosang continues speaking. “Because you are guaranteeing San’s safety, you would go to a place you don’t truly want to go. You would do something that every ounce in your body disdains to an unbelievable degree simply because it guarantees one person’s safety.”

“I’m doing it for Wooyoung and Mingi too,” you counter with too much haste, and it betrays the truth about the matter and your defensiveness. Yeosang’s lips quirk up into a slight smile. You would almost say that the gesture seems genuine in that moment.

“You say that with your words yet your eyes tell all. It’s on you to recognize it.” He cuts himself short there and shakes his head a bit. “That’s all… that’s all beside the point, however, since this is supposed to be about your dreams.”

“And what exactly is it you need to know about my dreams?” You tilt your head to the side as you ask the question, arms coming up to fold over your chest in a desperate attempt to defend yourself from his scrutiny.

“Well, first of all, there’s something I’m curious about.” Yeosang shifts to pull something from the drawer, and when he resurfaces, he has a small bound leather journal in hand. “Wooyoung has had an incessant dream for years now — all the years I’ve known him actually — of a girl drowning in a black lake. He watches her head go underwater but can’t make out her features well enough to recognize her. He dives in to save her, swims to grab her, does everything he can to save him, but something always pulls her deeper and deeper. He can never reach her. He can never hear her screams. He can never see her face. All he can do is reach out for her hand and that’s it. But when you came aboard, that dream suddenly stopped happening altogether. He hasn’t had it since meeting you.”

“I’ve – I’ve never had any sort of dream like that. Just… one dream about seeing a man with dark hair across a black lake. But h-his back was to me, so I couldn’t see his face. For all I know it was some random person and not Wooyoung.”

“And the other one?” Yeosang asks out of the blue. He arches a brow, eyes searching yours for answers, and you’re a bit taken aback by the question since you don’t recall mentioning a second dream to anyone other than Wooyoung. Ah… “He mentioned that one day in the medbay, where the two of you were late to the meeting on the bridge — you woke up shouting his name and asked him something odd.”

“Well, yes, but that… I had a dream about seeing Wooyoung in chains and the same collar he has now, but it didn’t feel quite like a dream. Moreso a memory than anything else.” Yeosang draws his lips into a tight purse.

“I can’t help you there.” The dismissive nature of his tone sends a sudden spike of rage through you, and you level the Elitist with a harsh glare.

“What do you mean you can’t help me? If that truly is a memory, then I deserve to know what my own past is as much as Wooyoung does!”

“I — calm down, Y/N. I’m not saying that I am choosing not to help you; genuinely I cannot. I don’t know anything about that. Wooyoung’s past — the one prior to when the two of us met — I have no knowledge of it, and according to everything he’s told me, he doesn’t either. Before the batch of slaves he was in came to Aera, their minds were wiped. Just as yours was for the military.”

Several years back, there had been one night in particular with your unit where all of you were up late in your bunks to exchange old ghost stories and legends, but something Hyunwoo had said at the time stuck out to you the most then.

“What do slaves and soldiers have in common? The cost of their service is worth more than a lifetime.”

And at the time, you hadn’t known exactly what that would mean in the long run, but now you think it makes quite a bit more sense. You sacrificed fourteen years of your life to join the military and be their property. Gave up an entire lifetime in service to the crown, and for what? You were no less a slave than Wooyoung must have been. How many years did they steal from him?

“Wooyoung knows fairly little about his time before coming to the palace on Aera. Even saying fairly little is being more than generous. Perhaps the only thing I genuinely sympathize with as it concerns you is that. Your pass was stolen from you, and there is no guarantee that you will ever get it back. While my childhood was far from pleasant, it always pains me when Wooyoung asks to hear about the times before him because I know that he doesn’t that. There is no ‘before me’ for him, just the day he stepped off a slave vessel and greeted my family.”

“You don’t mean — how long exactly have the two of you known each other?”

“Since we were nine years old,” Yeosang replies, a soft and genuine smile painting his lips. “Fourteen years. We’ve spent over two-thirds of our lives together, yet it’s still not enough to take away the fact that Wooyoung has a chunk of his life missing entirely in memories.”

“Were you… his master?” Your mind can’t move past the fact that they have been together all this time, through the years that Wooyoung was a slave and onwards. You haven’t had anyone be a steady rock for such a long time; the longest you’ve ever spent with someone to your knowledge was four years at best. But fourteen? That is the amount of time missing from your own memories. Is it possible that you had someone the way Yeosang and Wooyoung had each other for so long? A foundation in your life meant to ground you?

“No, never. He was assigned to my side, yes, but my mother was his true master.” Yeosang’s expression grows grave in that moment, and you know the look in his eyes well enough to guess that it is a sensitive and touchy subject that you should avoid. Thus, you shake your head ever so slightly to dispel the curiosity and move to a separate question.

“Then how did the two of you come to be here together?” You know a vague telling of the story of Kang Minhee, the Royal Betrayer who abandoned his dying father when it was his time to take up the crown, but nowhere in those stories is another person mentioned. No slave, no Wooyoung, no trace of any other name besides Yeosang’s original one.

“My father was sick, and the stress it put on my mother’s shoulders made her more cruel. I couldn’t bear to see her harm Wooyoung anymore, and thus I did what I thought was best and set him free in the night. Told him to go off and gain passage on a merchant’s ship to get off the planet. Then, as a stroke of vengeance against my mother, I stole documents concerning one of her many affairs and threatened to bring them to my father so that he would know she was a cheap whore on his deathbed. But even princes can’t get away with such things. My mother swapped the documents and told the guards that I stole highly confidential war declarations among other things instead, and thus I was charged with treason, given my brand, and stuck in jail.”

“Obviously you got out,” you murmur, leaning a bit closer as Yeosang tells his tale. “And met up with Wooyoung at some point.”

“Wooyoung is the only reason I got out. Rather than leaving the planet as I asked him to, he caught wind of how Kang Minhee had been placed behind bars for treasonous actions, and he thought it was because I helped him escape. He made a deal with a pirate crew to help gain my freedom, and Wooyoung personally set me free after six torturous nights of separation. I… being apart from Wooyoung for even that long was worse than treason itself. As my assistant, Wooyoung had a bed in my room so he could be at my side no matter the hour. He came with me anywhere and everywhere, even when it came to shadowing my father on his military tasks.”

There lies an unspoken cry of desperation in his words. You aren’t too dense to miss it, but the acknowledgment of said cry leaves a searing pain in your chest.

Yeosang drops his gaze to the desk. Something melancholy and sad takes over his expression, like he’s turning the pages back in a book and revisiting older chapters of his life that are less than pleasant, and for a moment, your heart goes out to him. The person he has had in his life for fourteen years — no doubt someone he never parted from even for a week — is no longer by his side. Again you feel that pull to bring Wooyoung back if only for Yeosang’s sake, for the sake of a faulty Elitist who found something more powerful than sheer reason and logic.

“We’ll get him back, Yeosang,” you whisper. “I’ll make sure of it.”

…

Your eyes open to a thick and palpable darkness that leaves you more than a little disoriented for several seconds. The scenery refuses to change around you even as you blink against the shadows to adjust to the shifting light. You blindly feel around for Seonghwa’s presence, stretching your hand out to find his form since the two of you were supposed to come to the Dreamscape together, but you can’t find him anywhere around you.

“Seonghwa?”

“Y/N,” he exhales, bringing an immediate wave of calm over your shoulders. A hand brushes over yours in the shadows, and you clasp tight at the fingers without second thought. “Something isn’t right.”

You don’t need to be a scholar or have infinite knowledge about this place to recognize that, but Seonghwa’s confusion brings a knot of panic to your gut.

“Where are we?”

“The Dreamscape but…” Seonghwa trails off as something collides with wood, echoing a hollow sound, and his body stops moving immediately upon impact. “Hold on, there’s — it feels like a door.” Seonghwa fumbles around a bit at the wood before the panel slides open, disappearing into the side of the wall, and pale yellow light filters over you. You can’t see past Seonghwa’s broad shoulders, but the slight pulse of his fingers squeezing yours tighter doesn’t bring any relief to your bones. He keeps you there behind him even as he steps into the dimly lit room.

A small fire crackles somewhere ahead, the only sound in the den of silence you’ve entered. When you at last step around Seonghwa’s back to stand at your side, your heart practically stops dead in your chest because of the form that sits before the fireplace.

“What’s going on?” Seonghwa asks before you have a chance to get anything out. None other than Daichi sits in front of the fire, hands clasped tight over his lap as he watches the flames dance before his eyes. Upon hearing, Seonghwa’s question, the old man jerks his chin to face the two of you. A heated glare greets you before anything else, along with a rage you haven’t seen from the man in a long while.

“I warned you, Kazuya.” Unless you’ve suddenly occupied another unknown form, there is no way that Daichi is speaking to you, and the way the old man’s gaze shifts to your companion only confirms that suspicion. Umiko, Tsukio, and Kazuya? What significance are those names supposed to hold? “I told you both, in fact. I said not to go looking for more Sirens!”

Daichi pushes up from his chair all of a sudden, seeming to grow in stature without warning as he looms over the fire, and crude shadows twist his features in ugly shapes and patterns.

“It is your job to guide Sirens to each other,” Seonghwa hisses as he pulls forward to match Daichi’s heat.

“And yet I told you not to do exactly that! It may be my job, but it is not my duty to do so. I too am allowed to have free will.”

“Then we have the same luxury! Who are you to keep us from finding others of our kind? Have we not been alone for long enough? Was it not you who guided us to find each other in the first place?”

“That was a stroke of faulty luck!” Daichi counters, and it causes Seonghwa to falter a bit. “Let this serve as a lesson in cruelty, boy. This place, this Dreamscape, it is mine to shape and mold. I have let you walk around too freely without consequence.”

If Seonghwa has anything else to add to the argument, he does not get the opportunity to say it because Daichi pushes forward, body contorting and melding into a blur before your eyes as he steps through the fire and out of sight. You can hardly stand and gape at the scene that just transpired in front of you for long though; new voices rise to your ears, soft and warm tones that speak in hushed whispers. You turn as Seonghwa does, finding two new forms who seems utterly oblivious to your presence in the dim room. A young woman, hardly older than thirty by the looks of it, and a tall child with jet black hair stand on the creaking floorboards near the door. They don’t face you or even spare you the slightest of glances, too caught up in their own little world to breathe in your direction.

“Darling, it’s time to run off to your hiding spot. Your favorite one, you remember?” The woman combs a few long fingers through the boy’s hair, brushing it off his forehead. “I’ll count down from ten, and by the time I’m done, you must be completely hidden. You know what to do, my angel.”

She nudges his shoulder once, and it prompts the boy to lunge into action, little legs working hard to dash through the room and out of sight before she can even begin counting.

“Ten…”

“Seonghwa, what is this?” You murmur. Your gaze is so transfixed on the scene unfolding before you, and Seonghwa seems to be in a similar predicament but his face wears too much concern for you to feel at ease in this place. There lies an odd tension in the air, one that tells you this is not some fun child’s game that the mother and her son are playing.

“Thr—”

“Where the fuck is he?” The door jerks and wobbles as it is flung open, and in its place stands a man nearly as tall as the doorframe with similarly dark hair and a fair complexion. His brows are so closely knit that you can’t see the skin between them, evidence of the rage that falls off his body in waves.

“Donghy—” The sharp and resounding smack of an impact too cruel for words interrupts her, and you turn away with a gasp on your lips. Seonghwa’s body jolts forward in their direction, but you snatch him by the wrist before he can move far.

“Th-They can’t see us, Seonghwa,” you huff out, unable to look over your shoulder again. “They would have seen us by now if we could do anything.” Seonghwa offers no response but his hand tightens into a clenched fist that causes his knuckles to bleed white.

“Where is that little brat? I finally worked out a good deal on the bastard, a quick trade for slave traders.”

“I – I don’t know. I haven’t seen him. H-He ran away earlier because I was yelling at him!”

“Did the fucker break another of your dishes?”

“No, no, he just – he wouldn’t shut up while I was trying to read. I… I don’t know where he is. I went out looking for him but couldn’t find him anywhere!”

“You’re just as useless as he is! Can’t even keep the fucker inside for two seconds while I go out and get the money for us?” Seonghwa tugs his arm out of your grasp, pushing away from you as best he can, and you follow him blindly to another door off to the side.

“W-Where exactly are we, Seonghwa?” You inquire, falling into step beside him. “What’s going on? Is this — is this a memory? Wooyoung’s?”

“No. It’s mine.” Seonghwa twists at the waist. You inhale so sharply that the air burns your throat and lungs, eyes blown wide at the shock of the revelation. A single long finger reaches out to point down to something near the fireplace, and you squint hard at the spot before realizing that a small vent sits at that exact spot on the wall. “I hid in that vent for four days to avoid my father at age six. By the time those four days were up, the slave dealer he had made a deal with had grown impatient and left the planet. And my mother took the brunt of my punishment for me.”

Seonghwa turns back to the door before him and pushes through it. You follow close at his heels, hand hovering over the center of his back. The memory seemed less than pleasant for him, and you didn’t miss the disdain in his tone as he spoke about it, but offering comfort right now feels a bit out of place. The scenery shifts as you pass through the door, but only enough for you to realize that these doors aren’t going to get you anywhere. You now stand in a different house, one that is much more run-down and decrepit from the looks of it. The young boy – the young Seonghwa, to be more accurate – stands in the doorway at the front of the room, rain soaking his skin and dripping from his dark bangs. There isn’t time to look around and take in the surroundings more because the same woman from the first memory comes rushing into the room.

“What do you think you’re doing, Seonghwa? You’re supposed to be at the military base training with the other recruits! Why are you here?” She stops in front of the boy and clasps her hands tight around his shoulders. All the boy can manage in response is a small shake of his head, and silence envelops the pair for so long that it grows uncomfortable.

“I-I was rejected,” the young Seonghwa says at last. “They… they turned me away. I’m s-sorry, Mother, I’m so—”

“Shh, my angel, it’s alright. Let me see your face.” The woman stoops to be eye level with the boy, hands reaching up to cup his face. As she lifts his head, you get a clearer look at the state of his face; it’s littered with bruises along with a split lip and a cut along his cheekbone where the skin has broken. “What happened!? Seonghwa, honey, wh-what happened to you?”

“It doesn’t matter.” The boy shrugs his mother’s touch off with a huff of air.

You shift to look at the real version of Seonghwa by your side, but his gaze remains locked on the scene unfolding in the room with glistening eyes that hurt to look at.

“The other recruits… at the time, they took me to an alleyway and bean me down like a dog,” he explains over the discussion between his memories. “All because I was born in a lower class, born in the Slums, not one of the Elitists who came from the Upper Echelon like them. Not good enough for the military even at age ten.” He exhales a loud scoff, teeth sinking into his lower lip so hard that you think he’s about to bite straight through the skin there. Seonghwa says nothing more; instead, he pushes back through the door you two just stepped through, only to welcome a new scene that causes him to freeze so quickly that you knock against his back.

“Go, Seonghwa! Why can’t you just go?” His mother is on her knees before the figment of his memories, an older version of himself that is not much taller than the one you just saw. “Do what they want! For my sake, if nothing else. They offered so much money for you, more money than we’ve ever seen in our lives. If you would just go, they’ll give it to us! I’ll have enough money to live happily for the rest of my life without having to go out on the streets and sell my body. Don’t you want that for me? Doesn’t my own son want me to have that freedom? Ever since your father passed and left us alone, I’ve been suffering so much. Can’t my angel just go with them for my sake?”

“I – I don’t want to go with them. They want me to – I don’t want to sell my body to them, Mother. I-I’m too young, please.”

It’s not the response the woman wants to hear, and she throws her hands down on her son’s shoulders, shoving the boy back until he stumbles and hits the creaking floorboards harshly. The Seonghwa at your side doesn’t let the memory continue past that point. He steps around you, fists clenched tight by his side and chest rising and falling with unsteady breaths. You aren’t sure how much more of these memories you can take, and that feeling must be increased tenfold for Seonghwa since this is his life he’s being forced to relive. There doesn’t seem to be an end in sight, this cruel torture of Daichi’s making returning again as you follow Seonghwa back through the door. This time, however, you step out into a rainy street, cold droplets painting your skin and sticking to your white gown.

There stands another Seonghwa in front of you, one that is a bit more like the real one who is at your side but still holds a bit of youth and innocence to his features.

“It was pointless to try to keep you safe,” a voice hisses through the din of the rain. It’s his mother again, and this time she stands in a doorway completely shielded from the rain as her son takes the brunt of the barrage from above. “This was the only chance I had at a decent life. I could’ve moved to the Upper Echelon with all that money, but you just had to go and ruin it for me. Like you always do. You should never have been born! Look where it’s gotten me! That plague my father had was passed down to you and I have suffered every day because of it. I should have thrown you to the wolves the moment I learned what you are. You won’t be my fucking problem anymore, though. Go! Get out of here and don’t ever come back! You are not my son, you never have been, and never will be!”

“Imagine a child’s worst crime being that he was born to a world that didn’t want him.” The man at your side shifts to look you in the eye now, face contorting with disgust as he watches his memory play back. “All because I was born as a Siren. I spent sixteen years of my life being hated and turned away because of what I was. Even by people who didn’t know my identity. No one wanted me, and the only ones who were willing to pay for me were people who wanted me for my body and not what or who I was. And then…”

Seonghwa turns away with a smile. He pulls back once more and reaches back for the door behind him. You follow him without comment, unspoken curiosities at your lips as you step into a room full of overwhelming noise and the stench of alcohol. A bar, no doubt, and one that Seonghwa recognizes in an instant based on the way his shoulders fold back and he perks up at the sight of it.

“And then I found Hongjoong,” he whispers, dark eyes swimming with waves of emotions. You mimic his line of sight to find a near unrecognizable version of Hongjoong standing before a run-down bar counter with a mop of long brown hair styled in a messy mullet that runs down the back of his shoulders. And sure enough, another version of Seonghwa stumbles in as well, seemingly a continuation of the last memory with the way his hair is damp and sticking to his forehead.

“Are you the one looking for recruits?” He pants as he comes up to the counter, stopping beside Hongjoong’s form.

“Depends on who’s asking.” Hongjoong offers a shrug and swirls his drink around a bit, watching the golden liquor inside jostle. “And it seems like some morally right asshole is asking me now.”

Seonghwa pushes his shoulders back a bit and frowns at the man before him.

“I ask that you give me a chance.”

“Then prove yourself. Are you truly prepared to do whatever it takes to be a pirate? Especially one on my crew? If you know how to shoot a gun properly and could kill an innocent with no qualms, then I suppose you could join the crew.”

Seonghwa moves in a flash. His hand snatches up the pistol on Hongjoong’s left leg and lifts it to the young captain’s temple, pressing the cool barrel against his skin without a drop of hesitation.

“I asked for an innocent, and I am anything but that.”

Seonghwa’s arm shifts to point the gun at the bartender across from Hongjoong, and he doesn’t even blink before firing the gun just to the left of the man’s head. The din in the bar falls to a hush at that, all eyes moving to where Seonghwa stands and where the bartender has now fallen to the ground in a state of shock. An airy laugh leaves Hongjoong’s lips, and his head tilts back in amusement.

“You’re hired. Here, old man, some extra credits for your troubles as well as another drink for my new companion here.” Hongjoong slips a credit chip across the counter, eyeing the bartender with wary eyes as he pulls himself back to his feet. The din behind them picks up once more without any issue. “What’s your name and age? You hardly look older than me.”

“Um, Park Seonghwa, sixteen.”

“Kim Hongjoong, sixteen.”

“Aren’t you a bit young to be a pirate captain?” Seonghwa asks, head falling to the side in curiosity. Hongjoong pushes himself to his feet and steps around his barstool. He stands far shorter than Seonghwa, but that doesn’t seem to faze him in the slightest as he crowds Seonghwa against the counter. The taller boy grabs the wood and leans back over it to put some distance between him in Hongjoong, inhaling sharply as the other pushes further in. Hongjoong’s hands fall on either side of Seonghwa’s and effectively pin him to the counter. Seonghwa has to tilt his head down to see Hongjoong properly, eyes wobbling as one corner of Hongjoong’s lips twists upwards.

“Are we going to have a problem with authority, Seonghwa?” The words are like honey on Hongjoong’s tongue. The taller simply gives a sharp shake of his head. Hongjoong hums to himself, tongue peeking out to drag over the front of his teeth. “I think we’ll get along quite nicely then.” Hongjoong leaves him with one more cruel smirk before pulling back completely and returning to his seat. He motions to the empty space beside him, which Seonghwa fills almost immediately. The bartender returns at that moment, setting new drinks on the counter with a hushed whisper.

“Keep mum about the alcohol, I can’t be going out of business now.”

Hongjoong just smiles and flicks another credit chip over to the man, then raises his glass to Seonghwa.

“To a new partnership.”

“Cheers,” Seonghwa echoes in a mumble, mirroring Hongjoong’s motion.

The man at your side cracks the slightest of smiles.

“To think that at the time, my worst nightmare was merely existing.”

“And now?” You ask before you can stop yourself.

“Not being able to save Hongjoong from himself.”

You hardly realize how lost in the memory you are until something resounds behind you, almost like a voice crying your name in the darkness behind that door, and you don’t pay the man at your side any notice before turning to face the wood. It’s clearer now, the voices behind it, the soft mumblings that blossom into something loud and bright, and once you realize who those voices belong to, you waste no time in grabbing the handle and pushing your way into the memory. Seonghwa must notice your movements because he follows close at your heels, although this time it isn’t one of his memories that you step into. It’s something different, something you can’t quite recall but you recognize the faces strewn throughout the room nonetheless.

You’re suddenly back on Eros, home with your unit, all of them except for Hyunwoo. Jisung stands over a table that is littered with maps and old papers as the others stand around him.

“Why are you leading this when it’s not your place, Jisung?” Juyeon is the one to pose the question, and you can’t keep from just staring at his features to drink in the sight of him since it’s been so long since you last saw him before you like this. “We all agreed to appoint Hyunwoo as leader, even you.”

“Hyunwoo isn’t here, is he?” Jisung snarls, reeling on his friend with a fire in his eyes. “He’s off mooching with the generals because they love him so fucking much! He doesn’t have to worry like the rest of us do; he’s no pathetic runt like the rest of us are.”

“Careful there, Jisung,” Soojin scoffs from Juyeon’s side. Her hair is just as bright and daring as you remember, a stark red that stands out against her skin and accentuates that natural beauty she always held. “That’s your inferiority complex slipping through.”

“What she means is — listen, Sung, I know you want to get this done, but we can’t make plans without Hyunwoo. And frankly… no one is going to follow you.” Juyeon exchanges a quick glance with the woman at his side, then another with the youngest of your troupe, Ash. “Let’s call it a night and wait for Hyunwoo to come back.”

Jisung doesn’t get to speak another word. Juyeon leads the way out of the room, disappearing into the darkness along with Soojin and Ash, and suddenly it’s like you and Seonghwa are left alone with just this weird figment of Jisung. A noise echoes from the corner. You shift to find the source, but when you do, your throat closes in on itself. It’s you. Some version of you, at least, one that you can’t even recognize well because of how young you seem to be. Wide, doe eyes that hold no hurt in them, features not marred by the harshness of your life that followed. Even if you don’t recognize this memory, you know for certain it isn’t one that happened after the ordeal with Hyunwoo and the king.

“You aren’t allowed to leave,” Jisung mutters, barely sparing your younger form a glance. “You can’t leave, Y/N. Out of all people, you have the least right to walk out that door. You’re just like me, just a runt who isn’t good for anything. The two of us need to stick together.”

“What’s the plan then?” She asks, and Jisung grins back at the girl.

“I’ll explain everything.”

“T-This isn’t right,” you choke out, reaching for Seonghwa’s arm. “This never happened. I don’t — I don’t remember this at all.” An odd sense of impending doom overwhelms you as you watch yourself approach the table beside Jisung, and you decide right then that you cannot handle being in this place any longer. You stumble backward, hand hitting the door hard and shoving against it in a desperate attempt to get out of the room.

The new scene you find isn’t any better than the last. Jisung sits in the middle of a monotone room, arms and legs bound to the chair under him. Some tall old man stands in front of his chair and Hyunwoo is at his side, looking as alive as can be, so much so that you choke on air and fall to your knees in an instant. Seonghwa’s hand finds your shoulder and clasps at it to offer some sort of comfort. In the corner opposite where you’re kneeling, the younger version of you is drawn tight into a ball with arms folded around her knees. Hyunwoo pulls away from the man beside him to come closer to the young girl – you, the innocent and young you who didn’t know how cruel the world could be at that point.

“Don’t watch this, Y/N,” Hyunwoo says as he folds an arm around her shoulders.

“Why is this happening? What’s going on? Hyun, I don’t understand why – why is he being punished?”

“Jisung was out of line. He… killed fourteen people. That wasn’t the mission, the mission wasn’t to kill anyone. It was just a simple recon mission. No one was supposed to die, especially not innocent people.”

“And why then are fourteen people dead?” The old man asks. The question is obviously directed at Jisung, but all he offers in response is to spit on the general’s feet with a sneer. The man swings his foot up, catching Jisung in the chin with a sharp kick that sends the younger sprawling across the floor in his chair.

“I did nothing wrong! All I did was get rid of more competition that would stop us later on. People are afraid of us now. Our team is gaining a name for ourselves at last, and you fat fucks in power feel just as threatened as the rest of society, don’t you? We’re fearsome now. Ruthless, bloodthirsty, cruel. That’s what we’re known for.”

The old man presses his foot down hard on the side of Jisung’s face and leans over his body.

“That isn’t what you’re supposed to be known for. You are part of the military. You are supposed to obey the law and uphold the rules like everyone else. Not murder innocent people who weren’t even in the crossfire!”

Jisung’s eyes blaze with unbridled rage, bringing a bit of a crazed gleam to his dark orbs.

“They called Y/N a runt! A useless slave! I’m supposed to sit back and allow that disrespect to happen? They had to pay for their crimes! They were far from innocent.”

You turn to Seonghwa, desperate for him to help you to your feet and get you out of this hell, but as you move, his face bleeds to white. Next thing you know, the ground disappears out from under you and you enter a freefall. A brilliant blood-red moon shines above you, taunting you with its glow as you drop, and it grows smaller and smaller the further down you fall. Your freefall only stops when you collide harshly with a body of water, and the black waters swallow you up and pull you under with no resistance. You thrash against the darkness, fighting your way to swim back up to the surface, but it’s to no avail because you can’t move. Something constricts your throat, chokes the air out of your lungs, and you watch helplessly as air bubbles float up to the surface without you.

Something sharp closes around your ankle. Looking down offers no help because of how dark the waters are. You have no time to tug away from it before it pulls you down further, and the red light of the moon grows fainter and fainter with each passing second. As a last-ditch effort, you push all the air in your lungs into a scream that rings through the water. And that must do the trick, because as the sound pulses through the lake, something blindingly bright appears above you like a small beacon of hope in the night. It grows larger as it swims closer to where you continue to sink, and just as it starts coming into focus, whatever has a hold on your foot lets go of you as though burned. Hands wade through the murk to cradle your face, soft thumbs combing over your cheeks, and the light dulls just enough for you to see the face of your savior.

And when you do, your heart nearly quits functioning right then and there because it’s none other than Wooyoung who floats above you, hair bright and glowing a soft lavender around his head. His cheeks are puffed full of air and his eyes are so wide that they look like round gems in the glittering light. He doesn’t speak, nor does he give you any indication whatsoever of what is going on; all the man does is slip his hands lower to fold around your waist before he begins to swim back up to the surface. The lack of air in your system has you reeling and dizzy, along with the overwhelming confusion that radiates through your body as well.

When the two of you finally breach the surface of the water, you are close to losing consciousness. The sudden intake of fresh oxygen keeps you conscious for now, and you let your body go completely limp in Wooyoung’s grasp as he pulls you to the edge of the water. The light from his hair fades back into a muted black, wet strands clinging to his forehead and neck. You only bring yourself to use your muscles again once you reach the shallows, knees coming to rest on the sand so you can sit up straight and face the man. He doesn’t wait even a second before clasping your face in his hands again.

“I know you,” he chokes out, voice too thick with emotion for your liking. The statement is startling enough as it is, although you have a sneaking suspicion that he doesn’t merely mean he knows you as Y/N L/N. “The girl who appeared in my dreams for years. The – the one I couldn’t reach. I can finally see you. Y/N, I…”

“Wooyoung has had an incessant dream for years now — all the years I’ve known him actually — of a girl drowning in a black lake. He watches her head go underwater but can’t make out her features well enough to recognize her. He dives in to save her, swims to grab her, does everything he can to save him, but something always pulls her deeper and deeper. He can never reach her. He can never hear her screams. He can never see her face. All he can do is reach out for her hand and that’s it.”

“I finally found you, Umiko.” Something about the way Wooyoung speaks and the glistening tears in his eyes brings you to tears yourself, a choked sob forcing its way out of your mouth for some reason unbeknownst to you. The moment leaves too soon.

A hand grasps your shoulder and yanks you back before you know it, tearing you away from Wooyoung’s grasp. Your attacker solidifies it with a kick to the center of your chest, and you slam back against the shallows. Daichi stands above you, a rage to his aura that you have never felt before. That’s all the warning you get from him. He swings his foot back down at your head this time, and you roll away from the attack only to be swung at by his fist.

“Why are you doing this?” You yell as you dodge the powerful attacks as best you can.

“Tsukio is the Siren I warned you about, you fool!” Daichi shouts back, heel clipping the edge of your shoulder. The comment puts enough confusion in you for him to gain the upper hand, and he hits the side of your head with the back of his hand. “Do you not remember? ‘Someone near you is a dangerous threat, one that you’ve never encountered before. You must be careful. Guard yourself wisely.’”

Daichi pushes you flat against the sand and clasps his hands around the middle of your throat.

“Tsukio can find you anywhere, even while far away! This mental connection you share, this link — the two of you are a dyad, a yin and a yang, a pair that cannot be severed. No matter how far apart you are, the two of you will always be able to come back to each other.”

“Come – come back? W-What do you mean?” The pressure around your throat increases just enough for you to cough, but you continue to push words out of your mouth like your life depends on it. “Did I know him before? Did I know Wooyoung somehow? That d-dream. Was it truly a dream or w-was it a memory?”

“I’ve always told you that you were something unique and special, Umiko.” Daichi squeezes harder, and black spots fill the edges of your vision. “You assumed I meant that it was your identity as a Siren and were too bitter to listen to anything I told you. Both you and Kazuya should not pry for more answers. I will tell you absolutely nothing.” With that, Daichi pushes your head under the water, and it’s just deep enough for you to not be able to breathe. “Consider this to be your one and only warning, Umiko. Next time, I will end you.”

You jolt back into a state of full consciousness by choking on air and throwing your body upright. The room swirls for several seconds before coming into focus, and you find yourself seated on the floor beside Seonghwa’s bed with no recollection of falling off at any point. There is a body in front of you and another on your left side, but their faces don’t process in your mind until you’ve caught your breath a bit. It’s Jongho at your side, who presses a hand to your sweat-slick forehead with so much concern in his eyes that it’s overwhelming, and Yunho is knelt by your feet with a similar expression of concern.

“Wh-Why are you here?” You ask, throat burning from the few words. Yunho glances over at Jongho, and the pair exchange unspoken words in their eyes.

“You pinged all our wristbands, Y/N. Called through the comms and said you needed help and that Seonghwa wouldn’t wake up,” Yunho murmurs.

“Where? Where is Seonghwa?”  Yunho motions towards the bed on your right, and you peer over the mattress to find Seonghwa sitting at the opposite edge of the bed with his head in his hands and elbows propped on his knees. Yeosang is in front of him, squatted to be eye level with the man, and he rests a hand atop one of Seonghwa’s knees.

“Seonghwa… when we came in, his body was in a state of shock, and his heart w-wasn’t — he was completely unresponsive. I almost couldn’t get him awake at all. On top of everything else we’re dealing with, why does this have to happen too?” Yunho drops his chin and exhales a shaky laugh. It’s a haunting reality that Seonghwa almost died in his sleep because of Daichi and his warning, but nothing ever felt quite as real as it did this time. “This must be some sort of bad omen.”

Yunho drops a hand to your leg before pushing himself to his feet. He steps around the bed and makes a beeline for Seonghwa now, leaving you in Jongho’s care for the time being.

“What the hell happened?” Jongho asks once Yunho is out of earshot.

“I… it was – just a bad nightmare.” You can’t look Jongho in the eye when you speak the lie, too ashamed to even be lying in the first place, and it’s only when your gaze wanders around the room a bit that you realize one person in particular isn’t present. “Where’s Jisung?”

“We saw him to a spare bedroom after dinner, so I’d assume he must still be in there.”

“He didn’t come out with the commotion?”

“What could he do even if he did?” Jongho shrugs a bit and lets his hand drop to your shoulder. He makes a good point in his statement, and it’s enough to shut you up and not prod the subject further.

“I need Seonghwa to the medbay with me so I can run some sleep tests and make sure everything is normal in the brain and heart,” Yunho states, peeking over to where you and Jongho are still seated. “Y/N, I’m a bit concerned about you not remembering calling for help, so I’d like you to—”

“No,” you interject, swallowing roughly. Yeosang looks at you over Seonghwa’s shoulder, and your eyes meet for the briefest of moments. He inclines his chin a bit as though trying to tell you something, but you can’t decipher what the hell he’s trying to say in the slightest.

“Jongho, you help Seonghwa to the medbay with Yunho. I’ll stay with Y/N for the time being.” Yeosang’s suggestion seems to catch everyone off-guard, including you, but based on the look in his eyes, there’s something else going on so you can’t find it in you to fight it. Jongho glances down at you.

“Is that – will you be okay?”

“I’ll be fine, Jongho, I promise,” you murmur back, placing a hand over where his rests on your shoulder. “Go with Seonghwa and make sure he’s okay first. I just feel exhausted right now honestly.”

“Okay, if you need anything—”

“I’ll call you, Jongho. Okay?” You press a weak smile onto your lips. The Berserker seems content enough with your words, and he helps you to your feet before stepping around the bed to do the same for Seonghwa. You sink back onto the mattress almost immediately, watching with a heavy heart as Jongho loops Seonghwa’s arm around his shoulders and helps carry the man out of the room. You wait to speak again until after the door slips shut and leave you alone with Yeosang. “What happened?”

“You didn’t call the others right away,” he says, tone so quiet you have to lean in to catch it. “Wooyoung called me asking for help.”

“Wooyoung — he what? In m-my body?”

“Yes, I thought – I thought it was a joke at first but he confirmed it was him, so I came over as quickly as I could. He said that you were crying out for his help so loudly that he passed out to come to you. Did you go to his body?”

“I was unconscious the entire time. But Wooyoung… he came to me in my dream.”

“Wooyoung was brief in his explanation to me, but he seems to think that it can only happen when one of you needs help too. He only heard you when you needed him, and he said that just before you came to him the first time in the cell… he was crying out for some sort of help. Then you showed up.”

“No, I don’t mean that he came to my body in my dream,” you say as you push yourself further onto the bed and face Yeosang head-on. “I was drowning in a black lake, and Wooyoung saved me.”

“His dream?” Yeosang’s expression melts into one of shock. He draws his lips into a tight ‘o’ then stares down at the floor. “He mentioned finding someone. He kept ranting on and on about how he finally found her. I was trying to get him to focus on the issue at hand, but he just wanted to talk about that.”

“But he didn’t wake me up. How did he help then?” Perhaps he was trying to pull you out of the dream before Daichi interrupted. But Wooyoung couldn’t have possibly been in your body at the same time that he was in your dream, so it must have happened after Daichi attacked you since Yeosang said Wooyoung mentioned finding you.

“It wasn’t about helping you, Y/N,” Yeosang whispers. He glances down at the spot where Seonghwa was just seated. “You asked him to help you save Seonghwa.” It hits then that as you were fighting for your life between drowning in a lake without relief and being attacked by Daichi, your subconscious was only worried about whether Seonghwa was okay or not. “He had to take control to call for help, but before he called me, he pulled Seonghwa’s body out of shock at least enough to get his heart going again. He stalled the shock long enough to get Yunho over here after talking to me first. He called the rest through your wristband after. Something must have happened on his end though because as soon as he finished speaking, your body dropped and went unconscious again.”

“Did Seonghwa mention what he saw?” You inquire, but a large part of you is too afraid to hear the answer.

“You weren’t with him?”

“We… were separated at some point.”

“He didn’t say anything about what he saw, but he was too shaken up to even speak. One would think that based on the visceral reaction his body had, it was something far beyond his worst nightmare.” Your body moves before your mind does, and you are suddenly on your feet again upon hearing Yeosang’s words. He regards you with a puzzled stare for a moment, eyes watching you move around the bed and to the door on unsteady feet. “Where are you going?”

“I need to talk to Jisung. I… I have some questions about my past.”

✧✧✧ a/n: hi hi HI guess WHO yeah its me its been a minute im SORRY this chapter just did not want to cooperate no matter what every time i sat down to write until today it was like No. but then i hit my stride and wrote like 6k today oopsie anyway hi info dump im so sorry about how much info there is in this one and sldfjlsdkf there’s a lot of backstory and symbolism and im afraid it’s a Mess but it iz what it iz so we’re rolling with it and im kinda delirious so that’s All i’ll say so yeehaw let me know how you feel what you think i love u all!

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[shoichee]

Hey! I read your Kise imagine recently and I adore it, it's rare to see someone write about manga!kise and I really loved it. Furthermore your writing is so so good to read 🥰 I wanted to ask you Kise x reader prompt 1! I would really like to read about him in such a situation ☺ Thank you Iain advance 😘

WAHHH TYSM ANON <33 IM SO HAPPY HEHE, and phew yall thought asshole kise was something but... have yall heard of TEIKO-era asshole kise??! NO?? dw, bc he’s debuting here // i wanted to really showcase his dual sides through more of dialogue (so we won’t really see what’s in Kise’s mind for this), so here it is hope you enjoy this anon! 

Kise x Reader

Prompt: “We’re not just friends and you fucking know it.”

Word Count: 2120

prompt list here

»»—————　☼　—————««

“We’re not just friends and you fucking know it, Kise.”

“Huh?” he mocks with a condescending tone. “I didn’t peg you as someone who’d pull shit out of their ass like my last ‘ex-girlfriend.’ Just because I let you hang around me doesn’t mean you can parade around campus with an inflated ego.”

Your hands shake furiously at your sides, trying not to punch the basketball player square in the face.

“Me? With an ego? Look who’s damn talking!” you seethe. “I’m tired of the fact that we keep playing this stupid flirting game for months, only for it to go absolutely nowhere!”

“Have you ever stopped to use your brain and think about how flirting inherently is done in good casual fun?” Kise explains slowly, implying that you were the immature one in the situation. “Meanwhile, you have the audacity to get mad at me when you’re the one who’s using me for your own selfish gain!” Kise sends a heated glare but his eyes were tinged with betrayal.

“What the hell are you even talking about? Are you out of your mind?”

“Fuck this,” he scoffs, throwing his hands up in mock surrender. “I’m leaving, I’m not dealing with this shit anymore. If you want attention, I’m not gonna entertain you anymore.”

“No, you will not leave!” you yell, trying to stop Kise in his tracks. He merely ignores you as he holds up a hand to do a wave with his back to you. “You’re going to explain what the hell you were talking about!”

You sprinted and held onto his sleeve to tug him back to face you, only to be met by the most bone-chilling gaze from him. You would’ve absolutely cowered in his presence if it wasn’t for the fact that you were irrationally angry from the false accusations Kise threw at you prior. You can definitely tell that Kise was biting his inner cheek to keep himself reasonably calm.

“Ryōta,” you say.

“Don’t call me by my first name anymore,” he says flatly.

“Where did you get the idea that I was using you?”

“Hah! Why? Does it matter? Are you gonna go to them and try to threaten them after? It’s so clear from the way you’re talking right now that you only see me as a prize to show off.” You inhale a huge breath to stop yourself from saying something you’ll regret.

“I never saw you as some object, Ryōta,” you mildly scoff. “Let me make myself clear. All I wanted was a clear answer from you every time I asked you if you wanted something serious, but every single damn time, you changed the subject or never answered the question!”

“It’s all done in good fun. Does it really need to be serious?”

“But I want something serious with you!”

Kise merely turns away in silence, but you can see his body slightly tremble.

“... Ryōta?”

“Don’t lie to me like that…” he says, slightly sucking a breath. “... Look, if you really wanna use me to boost your popularity, just… just come clean, okay? I’ll go along with it if you tell me now. After all, we’ve been… good friends.”

“Lie? Why would I lie? I never thought once of using you or having any motives other than to get to know you personally as a friend, Ryōta,” you say, looking down on the grip you had on his sleeve still.

“What reason is there to know someone like this other than to activate a ticking time bomb while playing a game to pass that time? Isn’t that how it’s always been? Isn’t that what we are right now?”

Your senses tell you that something deeper beyond this surface argument has been troubling him. You slowly let go of his sleeve, before turning away with a sigh, leaving Kise absolutely confused.

“I think we both need to cool our heads,” you sigh. “We’ve both said too much, and… just… forget what I said, okay? And I’ll forget about what you told me.” Kise’s eyes widen at your statement.

“(y/n)-cchi…?”

“We can still do light-hearted banter like we always do the next time we see each other, okay Kise?” Your fists on your sides tremble before you hold up your head to give him a cheerful smile that’s eerily all too familiar to his own. You turn to walk away, but his heart squeezes painfully at the sight of your back to him like this. You’re so far from him. So far.

“Hold it, now…” he says, slightly sprinting to catch up to you. He grabs your hand, still balled tightly by your side. “You’re cruel, you know that? Demanding me not to leave but then leaving the conversation on your own accord? You’re a hypocrite.” He spins you around to see your eyes barely struggling to hold back fresh tears. Little did he know that your countenance was a mirror to his own.

“... Our heads aren’t in the right place, Kise. You should probably let go.”

“I probably should, huh…” he says, but still giving no sign that he was actually going through with it.

“Knowing you, you’d really hold my fist until someone has to actually separate you from me.”

“And knowing you, you’d probably punch me before anyone else had the chance to do so.”

“You know me so well, hm?” you muse, a tiny curl of your lip a different world than the one you gave moments before.

“... No,” he says with a slight frown. “I don’t think I know you well enough.”

“I don’t know you enough either, Kise.”

Silence falls between the two of you, frail as thin ice, before you eventually break it.

“... You’re right, this whole friendship we have right now… it’s a time bomb. It’s bound to fail and fall apart.”

“W-Wait,” Kise slightly says in shock. “That was… I didn’t mean it like—”

“No healthy relationship of any kind would last if we keep dancing around each other like this. I wanna be honest with you for once… I… don’t wanna do this banter anymore. I don’t wanna do these flirting games. I’m kinda tired of it. Especially when you always keep me at a distance.”

“Pfft, (y/n)-cchi,” he snorts loudly, flashing his sunny smile. “I’m practically so close to you holding your hand!”

“You know exactly what I mean,” you sigh, and you avert your gaze away. “You feel so far. I just… you feel so out of reach even when I’m in the same room as you… even as of now. I just want to know where we’ll end up.”

You firmly shake his grip off you, watching his hand falling back to his side as he does nothing but stare at you. You don’t know if he’s angry, offended, or shocked, but whatever his expression was, you couldn’t tell, not when you still stared at the concrete to the side rather than at him.

“Of course I wanna be friends with you,” you continue. “But can you blame me for believing that there’s something more between us when we do romantic gestures and flirting for months on end? If we’re just going to be friends, that’s fine, but I’d prefer if you’d also stop addressing me with -cchi, just to draw a clear boundary between us.” You finally look up to see Kise, but to your own shock, he looks quite bitter.

“You say that you’re confused about what we are, but then you go prattle to everyone else that you’re my significant other when we haven’t even talked a single thing about being a serious thing. You’re so fucking confusing.”

“I… did no such thing?” Your eyes, still puffy from the tear ducts, shine in genuine bewilderment.

“You… didn’t?”

“Are you kidding me? Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

“I… um… oh…” All he could do was to stand there completely stupefied, mouth gaping as multiple realizations suddenly hit him like bricks. He rubs his neck as he shamefully looks away.

“So tell me,” you slowly say, giving him a more bone-chilling gaze than the one he gave you. “What exactly have you been hearing in the hallways?” You both stand there in silence again as Kise struggles to think of a way to explain it without sounding completely dumb.

“Okay, look… I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have listened to the rumors so easily, especially since I despise them too, but… they were about you, and I just couldn’t help myself…” he mumbles. “I don’t know, I… the thought of you getting close to me to use me really, really hurts.”

“And you thought just cutting me off on the spot was the most reasonable decision you can think of?”

“H-Hey…! Don’t put it like that! I thought I knew you well, but when I heard what people gossiped, my mind just went somewhere, and I thought maybe I misread you at some point. If you really did have ulterior motives, cutting you off wouldn’t be as easy as that other girl. Because I… w-wait! Where are you going?!”

“Home, Kise,” you flatly say. “It’s after school after all.”

“At least hear what I have to say!” He tries to catch up with you, but you only speed walk to outpace him. “Let me explain myself!”

“Hypocrite~” you say, using Kise’s mocking voice. “I don’t recall you letting me explain myself in the beginning.”

“(y/n)-cchi, I’m sorry! I’ll pay for all the outings we’ll do this week! And um… I’ll always talk to you if something’s bothering me—don’t ignore me!”

“Didn’t I tell you not to use -cchi?” you sigh, stopping abruptly, causing Kise to accidentally bump against you. “I’ll forgive you, but we’re still only friends. I guess I’ll apologize for assuming things on my end, too.” Kise drops his head on your shoulder from behind, and you only roll your eyes in amusement at the familiar contact. “Oh dear, Kise. I didn’t think you were the type to be so clingy after a fight.”

“Okay, I’ll ‘fess up,” he says, voice muffled by your uniform blazer. “Even though we’ve always gotten along so well, there’s always been a part of me who’s been on the lookout for any possible signs that you only saw me for my reputation. While I enjoyed having you around, I had always been ready to cut you off if I saw anything suspicious, but… lately the thought of letting you go ached so much… and then I heard what the other students were talking about… how you were acting the entire time… how you somehow screwed over other people before… couldn’t really think properly after that.”

“Boo hoo,” you huff. “Do you want a kiss to make you feel better?”

“... I actually do.”

“I think our heads haven’t completely cooled down. I’m going ahead.” You were about to walk away, even though you very much enjoyed his head on your shoulder, but his arms wrap around you to stop moving any further from his side.

“You said that you wrongly assumed what we were…” he whispers. “But you’re actually right. We’ve been more than friends for a while without me really acknowledging it,” he chuckles at your groan, “I guess you really do know me well… I’m really attached to you… but it’s not fair that you’re so collected even when I’m hugging you like this.”

“Kise, you’re an idiot, do you know that?” you snort. “How are you hugging me but not noticing how fast my heart is beating?”

“H-Hey! Can you call me by my first name again? I said it without really thinking, okay? It hurts me every time you do that.” He gives the most comical pout, but you only punch the top of his head on your shoulder before walking ahead.

“I’m still mad at you. I’m going home.”

“(y/n)-cchi, w-wait! Let me walk you home, then!”

“Don’t call me that either. I’m still mad at you.”

“But aren’t we dating now? I can call you that if we’re a thing.”

“But I’m still mad. You still said all those horrible things, and that stung. You think you’re the only one hurting right now?”

“I’m really, really sorry! I’ll make it up to you, and I won’t say anything like that again, and…”

“You’re not being really convincing.”

“I know I was being immature and the one with the inflated ego, and I said things that aren’t remotely true—”

You sigh before you turn back to a panicking Kise behind you.

“Then you better make it up to me by cuddling me and telling me some sweet nothings, because I can really use that right now, Ryōta.”

[noneatnonedotcom]

the art is by @exp1016 and it was so good that i decided to write a story for it. this was edited by @thatorigamiguy

Business and Pleasure

Jaune was somewhat disillusioned with being an adult. Not that he hated his life or anything, It was more that he had come to understand that ninety percent of life was bullshit to fill the time; the other ten percent was screaming in terror as you tried to stop the cock up cascade that had just started before it hit critical mass and destroyed a town.

Married life was not too dissimilar though the most significant change was that Jaune knew that Yang was there for him despite everything. It meant that there was a level of happiness that Jaune could never truly dip below. It also meant the high points of his life were significantly higher.

This is why it wasn’t too hard to focus on the paperwork in front of him. He and Yang both made money through the protection of the town as their resident Huntsmen, with their payment typically coming in the form of food and board with a little pay when the town had sold their harvest.

Jaune had since added in a few techniques for homesteading his dad had taught him as a boy, and as it  turns out, he would have made a damn good farmer if his heart wasn’t set on being a Huntsman. Since most of the techniques to improve the harvest were by their nature passive, it means the town had a lot more time on its hands and a lot more food and money to go around. This, of course, was not without its drawbacks. 

More food and money, meant more commerce to their town. More Commerce meant more people flocking to their town, settling down, and either becoming farmers or starting their own trade. More hard working people meant more output, and with more output came an economic growth. So then, what exactly was the drawback of having more people, more workers, and more commerce?

Well for starters, idle hands are the Devil's favorite playthings. With the townsfolk having to work less hours, that meant it was time for them to cut loose and have fun. And “fun,” often meant either having one to many down at the local tavern and acting like a drunk idiot, starting fights with people and causing property damage; or it meant that the local youth liked to go around causing trouble for others through either mild, but annoying pranks, or through going around and breaking things and acting like complete hooligans.

 With less time spent on working hard to distract them, now they spent that time hardly working and acting like complete menaces around the town.

Then, there was of course, less pleasant folk that started coming around as if late. These were the undesirables, miscreants, thugs, and other would be thieves that came wandering into town thinking they could make an easy profit by robbing the people of their hard earned coin. Why bother to put in the work, when you can just take it off those who've already done it for you? So, the town had decided that they were in need of a Sheriff, and Jaune had all but been given the title through an all around unanimous agreement from the townsfolk.

Now, to say that Jaune was less than pleased with this sudden responsibility would be an understatement, but not for reasons you might think. Jaune was more than happy to take the role of Sheriff for the town, they needed one after all and Jaune found that he fit into the position quite well. No, what had really annoyed Jaune was that the townsfolk had also decided he was the best fit for the towns Headman position as well, something that was quite unexpected and one that Jaune found to be a pain in his side more than anything.

In other words, Jaune was basically handed two of the most powerful positions of a rapidly growing and expanding township, with all of the unfortunate responsibilities of both words to go along with it. 

The only upside of Jaune's sudden shift to a leadership position was that he and Yang were moved into the Headsman house, which was more of a manor than a simple house compared to the rest of the townsfolk’s lodging. Jaune and Yang would later learn that the community had been started by the servants of a long-dead noble household that used to tend to the manor, and their descendants have been living within the town ever since.

So Jaune found himself spending less time in the field, and more of his time spent in the office filing paperwork and guiding his deputies around to do most of the legwork for him. Was it the most exciting thing in the world? No, but Jaune found that he enjoyed the work and was quite content knowing that he was providing for Yang and setting up a strong foundation for their family when they got around to making one. 

Jaune's thoughts were interrupted when his secretary came walking into his office, and she instantly caught his eye. She was a knockout with long blonde hair, a shirt clearly too tight for her that he could only assume was combat certified with the force those poor buttons were under. A pencil skirt clung to her hips, and as she looked at him through her glasses, Jaune knew that today he was going to have quite a bit of fun at work. “Mr. Arc, I believe that is all for today,” she began, “maybe it’s time you took a break?” 

Though her tone was light, she spoke with an air of confidence as she slowly approached his desk. The approach was slow, her hips swaying from side to side in a mesmerizing manner, while she had a light, almost mischievous smile on her face as she kept eye contact with him. She wasn’t merely approaching him, no, she was stalking towards him like a big cat eyeing up her prey, all feline grace and confidence. She knew what she was doing to him, and she was reveling in it. Jaune stood, smirking at the challenge, and walking around his desk. A lot of seduction was posturing, non-verbal communication and like most forms of communication, the more you did it with someone, the better you were at it. He and his secretary were no strangers to this dance, but he still loved every second of it. Just as much as he loved his wife. “Then do you have a suggestion as to what I could do instead,” he asked, letting his voice go lower. Something you would feel more than hear and she, for her part, tilted her head down and looked up at him with her eyes. Making her seem so small, so vulnerable, but the apparent lust in her eyes only served to enhance the image. “Well, I’ve got a few things in mind,” she said with a smile, her hands trailing  absentmindedly across her body, making his eyes follow her curves, “there are three things, in particular, I’m going to have you do.” “Miss Xiao-long, what would my wife say if she heard you,” he gasped out in false shock. She only smirked at his question, before her hand came up to his chest, pushing him back lightly till he was leaning against the desk. She kept her hand on his chest, caressing his pecs in a soothing manner while she reveled in the feeling of hard, corded muscle hiding beneath his work shirt. “Mrs. Arc will never know sir, I promise,” she stated in a reassuring manner, before she leaned in and placed a slow sensual kiss on his lips. He felt the hand on his chest unbuttoning his shirt in a well practiced manner, exposing his bare skin for the world to see. Her eyes lit up at the sight of his toned body and defined muscles, before she started to lay down a trail of kisses starting from his chest and ending with her on her knees by the time she had made it to his abs.

“So why don’t you let me help you relieve all that pent up energy,” she said from her kneeling position, lilac eyes fogged over with lust as she began to slowly unbutton and unzip his pants, “it seems so wrong to keep something like you caged up.” “Something like me,” he asked with a raised eyebrow. “An apex predator, an animal,” she said with a lusty smile, before gasping in awe at the size of the now freed cock she held in her hands. Her mind was clouded over with lust as took in the sight of the member she held in her hand, her mind unable to formulate a proper response. “I look forward to being devoured,” she all but whispered out, unable to take her eyes off his member.

Jaune only smirked in response, before he wrapped her silk-like blonde hair around his hand, and forced her mouth down his shaft, groaning in pleasure as she took it all in.

By the ancestors, he loved his job.

Hours later, Jaune and Yang found themselves laying on the office floor, bodies covered in a sheen of sweat as they held their naked bodies in one another’s arms. Usually, the furniture tended to be obliterated in the process of their fun(and at one point, the whole office when they both activated their semblances), but this time was more about the seduction and worshiping each other than it was about the act. That wasn’t to say that they didn’t enjoy getting rough with one another still, but as they got older, they had started to develop more refined tastes into their lovemaking. That, and it was less money spent having to replace everything that was broken in their fun, and less embarrassing having to explain to the repairmen how everything had been broken in the first place. Jaune couldn’t stop the smile spreading on his face as he looked down upon the sleeping form of his wife, before he leaned down and planted a quick peck on the top of her forehead. He was slowly drifting asleep himself, until eyes shot open as he felt a small hand trail down his body towards his member once more. He slowly felt his eyes drifting back towards his wife, only to be greeted with her smirking visage as her hand was wrapped firmly around his member, slowly getting ready for another round. “I heard you were with that Xiao-long slut you call your secretary again.” Jaune tried to fake a denial, but Yang only chuckled in response, “I don’t mind, you’re a strong man, more than enough for the two of us. But I do need to remind that whore just who belongs to who.” Yang slowly arched a leg over him, letting him feel her smooth skin as she carefully positioned herself on top of his now hardened member, “So why don’t we teach that slut just who’s the Wife…”Jaune let out a pleasurable moan as she lowered herself onto his shaft, gritting her teeth as she took him in, inch by inch, before she fully sheathed herself against the base of his groin. She let out a sigh of pleasure, before leaning over to give him a faceful of her large, warm, breast, a sensual smile on her face as her lilac eyes once again fogged over with lust. “...And who’s the Mistress.” As Yang readied herself to keep going, she found her concentration ruined when Jaune, breaking character for a moment, lowered her down so that he could plant a loving kiss on her lip.

“I love you so much, you know that,” he said with a happy smile on his face. This caused Yang to break her own character, as she began blushing harder than a schoolgirl lusting over her crush, before she covered her face in embarrassment.

“JAUNE,” She screamed, “YOU JUST CAN’T DO THAT WITHOUT WARNING!” Jaune only laughed in response to his wife’s overreaction, before he thrusted up into her with a determined look on his face. Yang, clearly caught off guard, screamed his name in surprise, pleasure, and still a fair bit of embarrassment from the earlier unscripted affection. The older you got, the less magical the world became, and it started to become clear that not everything is as good as it can be. It becomes clear that life is full of ups and downs, and a never ending cycle of trying to balance responsibilities to keep yourself from crashing and burning too soon. but it was small moments like these that could only make Jaune think one thing:

‘I love being an adult…”

[nyxienoya]

Innermost Thoughts

A KiraShino fic for all your angsty needs

Plot: Yoshikage Kira has fallen in love, but how will he deal with it?

TW; angst

Word count; 3.6k

Fic under the cut

Yoshikage Kira still didn’t understand how he got into this situation; it had been round two months since he escaped the grasps of Josuke Higashikita and changed his face to Kosaku Kawajiri. Unbeknownst to him, more time than he would have liked as Kosaku had passed.

As usual, he lived life with a day-by-day routine which he stuck to by the minute, but one thing Yoshikage Kira would have expected was for his new personal life to infiltrate his business plans.

Before taking on this guise, Kira had no clue what he was getting himself into regarding having a new personal life to fit himself into, living life as a stranger to himself. He was hoping he picked a sad misanthrope much attune to his own desires, to which Kira could continue with his daily life with nothing major interrupting his plans, but alas, the ambush he had received gave Kira a limited time to switch faces. Rather, he got himself into a situation where he was a businessman with a wife and child. This situation was clear to anyone who could psychoanalyze Kira’s behaviour when he was around this family. It was uncomfortable, but Kira quickly learnt how to adapt to having a supportive family life. His ‘son’ Hayato, only aged eleven seemed to remind Kira of himself in some ways, he was intelligent, with a hopeless case of snooping into business that wasn’t his. He seemed to catch onto things quickly, and regarding Kira’s mission, it was not ideal. Despite this, Kira found himself to respect the child, slowly growing a fondness towards him, even to the point of helping him with his schoolwork at the kitchen table in the mornings.

However, Kira was currently pacing back and forth in the attic where resided Stray Cat napping, meowing softly in its sleep. Grasping at his hair, pulling it slightly; Kira groaned. Guilt was pouring into his soul, and it was reflected into Killer’s Queen’s performance, he wasn’t as agile and quick as usual, and all for one small reason. Yoshikage Kira had fallen in love.

Kosaku was married to this gorgeous woman, Shinobu. At first, Kira could hardly tolerate the woman, she was overly clingy and hopelessly in love with this Kosaku, but over these past two months of living this new life, Kira found himself becoming less repulsed by Shinobu’s touches and acts of generosity. It all started when she started to make coffee Kira’s ideal way rather than Kosaku’s without questioning it. The mere thought of that made Kira’s heart flutter. Further on into the relationship, Kira kissed Shinobu on the cheek; seeing her shocked and flustered face made Kira’s stomach pool in anger in the moment. He knew nothing about the past life Kosaku lived with Shinobu and Hayato, but with hints through their behaviour he caught on with the fact that their relationship wasn’t all that healthy due to Shinobu’s compliance, and Hayato’s reluctance to have long conversations with him.

Kira stopped his pacing momentarily, the mere thought of Kosaku’s previous life whether healthy or not made Kira flood with jealousy. How dare that scum have ever laid his hands on his Shinobu. Wait. HIS Shinobu. “Oh dear,” he starts, resting his hand against his cheek. “Why do I feel this way about a meaningless woman. I need to focus on the task at hand, and that is killing Josuke Higashikita, I can’t-“ he stuttered, “I can’t fall in love. It’s not in my nature whatsoever, but when she touches me, or kisses my cheek.” Kira shook his head, trying to stop his thoughts, a faint blush cropping up on his face.

In Kira’s mind, he wasn’t worthy of love, nothing he had done in life could even start to warrant any emotion as strong as love, even from a young child he knew his parents didn’t ‘love’ him. They only had him for the sake of having a child and being parents, this only becoming more prevalent in these recent months with his father helping with Kira’s goal of creating more enemy stand users to defeat and kill more people for him, making it easier for Kira to live a quiet life with no repercussions.

But now, he had a woman who was there for him no matter the situation, loving him unconditionally. Kira almost couldn’t take it, this much exposure to genuine love had him flustered to even the thought of Shinobu giving him a kiss on the cheek every morning.

Taking a deep breath, Kira tried to recollect his thoughts. He cracked open the window shades slightly, letting a ray of sunlight hit Stray Cat, causing it to wake up with a loud hiss. Kira’s eyes widened partially, letting out a ‘hush’ to the same volume as Stray Cat. “Listen up, I need you to distract that boy Hayato, I know he’s aware of your existence and I have plans that I need to get to. Understand?” He asked the cat-plant hybrid, to which he got a response with a soft mewl alongside a nod. “Good. I’ll be sure to leave the shader open slightly so you don’t lose track of your task.” He stated, tightening his tie. He walked over to the exit of the attic and promptly left thoughts of Shinobu ubiquitous in his mind.

As he exited the attic, he saw Hayato hiding around the corner from the corner of his eye, “I can see you Hayato, not as sneaky as you thought you were.” Kira said, a joking tone shining through his words. Hayato then revealed himself from the corner and solemnly held up a sheet of paper, looking down in embarrassment, “Mom’s taking a nap so she can’t sign it; so, can you? It’s for a school trip I have next week.” He said, still refusing to make eye contact. “Of course, I’ll sign it, what kind of father would I be if I didn’t?” He asked rhetorically, he continued; “Just leave it on the kitchen table, I’ll be down in a moment, I just have something to do really quick.” Hayato nodded and scurried off downstairs to the kitchen, then more than likely left to his room.

After hearing the door to Hayato’s room click, Kira took swift steps towards his and Shinobu’s shared room and softly opened the door and entered, being sure to not disturb her nap. Standing by the door, he took in the sight of his ‘wife’, she was sprawled on top of the sheets, napping. Poor woman must have been so exhausted that she passed out right as she touched the bed, even to the point where she still had her slippers on.

Kira stepped towards her, the smell of her perfume wafting through the room. It was a soft floral scent, hyacinths with a mix of honey and limoncello sorbet concomitant to the white flower. Gently, Kira took off Shinobu’s slippers, placing them down besides the bed. He sat on the bed, the mattress dipping beneath his weight, causing Shinobu to stir slightly. He brushed his fingers across her face, brushing her hair out of her face. “You’re so gorgeous.” Kira softly muttered to himself. He was stunned that he even got himself to feel any emotion towards someone which wasn’t just pure lust for their hands, but love. A raw, intimate and genuine emotion Kira had never felt before, it was shocking that he’d even admit it to himself, let alone express it in the form of words of affirmation.

Noticing a blanket placed lonely on the dresser, Kira got up to grab it, unfolding it to place it over Shinobu’s unconscious body. Instantly, she snuggled up in the blanket, a tired smile flashing upon her face, round cheeks rosy. Walking back to her, Kira leaned down and pressed a lingering kiss to Shinobu’s forehead before exiting the room, not before having a longing stare at her form first.

When he did leave the room, he remembered that he had still yet to sign Hayato’s slip, heading to the kitchen, he took a pen out from his blazer pocket and quickly signed it as Kosaku. More often than not Kira would forget that he was living life as Kosaku and not himself, the emotions he felt for the other two members of the household were too strong for Kira to ignore. He genuinely saw himself as a part of the family, as Hayato’s biological father and Shinobu’s husband. Alas, neither of which were true, he knew Shinobu would never love Kira for who he was; he was a serial killer after all. He knew that Shinobu fell in love with Kosaku Kawajiri, not Yoshikage Kira, and what Kira saw in his fantasies and dreams was a life with just that. Him, Shinobu and Hayato as a happy family. Though Shinobu expressed her love quite often to him, she would never know that it was being directed to a stranger and not the man she married. Yoshikage Kira would never feel love aimed towards him directly, he only acted as a barrier to Kosaku Kawajiri. She will never love him.

Realising he was still gripping the pen, Kira cleared his throat abruptly, slipping the pen back into his pocket. Slapping his face quickly with both hands, he brought himself back to reality. Externally, it would look as though those thoughts didn’t affect him, but internally, it felt like an eternal heartache, knowing that he would never be significant enough in someone’s life for them to say those three meaningful words ‘I love you’. However, rather than dwelling on it, Kira decided to make something impactful out of it. Heading towards the front door, grabbing the car keys off a little hook hanging by the door and left.

The plan was to book a reservation at the fanciest restaurant in Morioh and treat Shinobu how Kosaku never did like royalty, it’s the least she deserves for essentially acting as a single mother to Hayato. Stopping by at the restaurant, he booked the reservation for 8pm. Looking down at his watch, he saw that it gave him five more hours to prepare the rest of the night. Next, he drove towards the centre of Morioh, where all the high-class stores were situated. Afterall, he was still Yoshikage Kira, he was able to effortlessly spend copious amounts of money at once and his bank account would hardly break a dent. Kosaku would’ve only wished to buy something as expensive as Kira’s signature suit which he no longer bared. Parking his car, he stepped out and locked the doors quickly before walking towards one of the stores, instantly being blasted by the overwhelming scent of lavender and sandalwood. Shooting a look of disgust to no one in particular, Kira remained stoic and walked over to the women’s section of the store, shooing off any retailer who came up to him. Kira knew what he wanted, and he wasn’t going to let anyone sway him otherwise.

There it was, the perfect dress, it was a long-sleeved, burgundy velvet dress that stopped just above the knee, it lay baggy on the slender mannequin, meaning it was a perfect fit for his wife. He could already envision it. The night was going to be perfect. He took the dress off the rack and laid it over his arm, “Can’t forget about some shoes,” he spoke to himself, walking over to where various pairs of shoes of different colours and heel heights sat. Kira could pride himself on one thing, and that was that he knew the exact styles of shoes Shinobu felt comfortable wearing and what she didn’t. She was a woman in her thirties, married with a child, high heels had no business being in her closet, rather, she was more suited to a kitten heel and pumps as they were less strenuous on her ankles. Perusing all the shoes, Kira came across a black kitten pump, so simple, yet so classy. He found the shoes in her size and took the box as well as the dress to the front desk. “That’ll be 46,294.19 Yen, sir.” The cashier said in a monotone voice. Taking his wallet out, he handed over five 10,000 Yen notes to the cashier, promptly receiving the change. “Have a lovely rest of the day.” Kira called out to the cashier as he left, bag in hand.

He placed the bag in the passenger seat of the car before checking his watch. It had already turned 4:30pm. “Hmm, that took longer than expected, by now Shinobu must already be awake, I can’t surprise her with this now.” A frown formed on Kira’s face before entering the driver’s seat. “Oh well, I’ll just find a way to sneak this into our room.” The car drive home was silent, but Yoshikage didn’t mind it, he tended to live his life in silence prior to changing his life, he almost missed it, but the sound of Shinobu’s voice sparked joy in his heart, Kira couldn’t help but smile at the thought of the melodic tone of his wife’s voice.

Before he even knew it, the drive home was complete, before he exited the car, he looked down at his watch once more; 4:50pm. Three hours left until the date.

He exited the car, bag in hand walking towards the front door, not before locking the car door. He unlocked the door and entered; the house was silent apart from the faint sound of the television playing a news channel in the living room. “Shinobu?” He called out, after ten seconds of no response he kicked off his shoes and walked towards the kitchen where he called out once again; “Shinobu, darling?” To which he still got no response. “She must not be awake still, surprising.” He muttered, placing the bag on the kitchen table and turning to one of the draw and pulled out a notepad and ripped out a page and took out the pen from his blazer pocket once more and started to write:

‘Shinobu, my darling wife,

On the dresser is a bag, be ready by 7:10pm, I’m taking you out on the best date you’ve ever been on.

- Love, Kosaku ♡

Taking the note as well as the bag, he walked upstairs to the bedroom where Shinobu was still sleeping and placed the bag and note on the dresser and promptly left to go do some office work.

Approximately an hour and a half passed before Kira’s trance-like state was broken by hearing a shriek come from Shinobu, a soft smile appeared on Kira’s face. “Well at least she’s awake,” he looked up to the clock 6:20pm “perfect.” He allowed ten minutes to pass for Shinobu to put on the dress before leaving his office and heading to the bedroom. He knocked twice before entering the room.

He was starstruck, stunned in place by the sight of Shinobu in the dress. Shinobu’s curves were accentuated through the dress, even the bulge of her post-partum stomach which had remained over the past 11 years stuck out in the dress. It made Kira more attracted to her than he typically was. Her plump thighs making the dress skin-tight made a soft blush form over Kira’s cheeks. “You,” he stumbled over his words; “you look stunning.”

Shinobu turned to face Kira, a bright smile plastered on her face. “You did this? All for me?” She questioned, just as starstruck as her husband. Kira could only muster a nod in response. He stepped towards Shinobu, cupping her face in his hands, causing a large blush to spread across her whole face. Kira leaned in and pressed a quick, but passionate kiss to Shinobu. The first of which Kira had ever shared in his life, and clearly through Shinobu freezing up in response, it was more than likely the first time she was kissed like that since hers and Kosaku’s wedding.

Pulling away, the two were flustered, they shared a momentary silence before Kira broke the silence by clearing his throat and looking away. “You should probably continue to get ready, you do look beautiful darling, gorgeous even.” He stated, a soft smile present, He placed a kiss to Shinobu’s cheek before exiting the room and heading into his office where he held a spare suit just in case. It was a matching burgundy suit with a black shirt with a tie being reminiscent of Shinobu’s favourite dress, black with white polka dots.

It took almost no time before it was 7:10, and the two of them was in the car, Shinobu did a natural makeup look, deciding to embrace the features she already had, her hair was in a low messy bun. She had never been faced with the need to get all dressed up for a date to the point where she stressed herself out so much that she ended up doing the bare minimum.

The car drive held some small talk about how their days had been thus far, all whilst Kira was holding Shinobu’s thigh, stroking it softly with his thumb.

As they got to the restaurant they were quickly seated in the back of the restaurant on the balcony, only for the upmost private of dates. Like a gentleman, Kira pulled the chair out for Shinobu before seating himself. The sound of a piano, violins and a harp played together synchronically creating a beautiful tune which Kira caught himself humming along to every so often. Shinobu found herself opening the conversation whilst picking up a menu; “Did you really mean it when you said I was gorgeous earlier? It’s just that you haven’t said that since our wedding, Kosaku. And all of a sudden, you’ve reverted back into your old self, pre-Hayato, pre-marriage, what’s up with it?” Shinobu questioned.

Kira feigned a look of shock, he knew Shinobu could quickly pick up context clues, that’s where Hayato got it from, of course, but Shinobu could pick up on it this easily? Despite the fake look of shock on his face, Kira himself even felt stunned slightly. He thought for a moment before responding, “Of course I meant it, love. Why would I fake that, I’m not a liar you know this?” To Kira, that statement was obviously applicable, but regarding Kosaku, he had no idea whether or not he was truthful. He continued; “Plus, I just felt like rekindling the old spark we had, it’s been lost in a mist for so long, and even to this day, I’m still surprised why you’re still with a man like me. You could do so much better-“ He was abruptly cut of by his wife’s voice, anger lacing her words, “Don’t even say that, you know in hopelessly in love with you Kosaku” she went silent for a moment, “even with how you’ve treated me this past decade, I’m not quite certain what I’d be like without you in my life. You mean the world to me.” Tears were brimming at Shinobu’s eyes.

Kira froze, for the first time in his life, he didn’t know how to react to a situation, it was this one woman who finally had the Yoshikage Kira stumped and not the masterful plan from an enemy of his.

How could a woman as perfect as Shinobu fall in love with scum like Kosaku to the point of not being able to leave him out of pure desperation of not knowing where her life would go. Finally, with what felt like eons, Kira finally plucked up the courage to respond to Shinobu’s outburst; “You really are the perfect woman Shinobu, my wife, I know it must have felt like forever ago when I last said this to you, but I love you Shinobu Kawajiri, and I’m proud to call you, my wife. I’ve always loved your feistiness, and how nurturing you are towards Hayato even when you are at the worst point in your life. You are indefinitely the most perfect person I’ve set my eyes on. From your stretchmarks to your eyes, to how much you cling to me, Hell, even to how your nose crinkles when you laugh, it’s all perfect.” Kira ranted, every word he said coming from the bottom of his heart, words laced with love and passion.

As he ranted, Shinobu sat there, stunned. Deep down, she knew this wasn’t the Kosaku she married, but hearing those words that spilled out of Kosaku’s mouth, it made her fall in love all over again. For years on end, Shinobu was longing, waiting to just hear those three meaningful words of ‘I love you’ and at last, after eleven, painful years, she finally got to hear them once again. Tears spilled from her eyes, rushing down her cheeks uncontrollably. As soon as Kosaku had finished his rant all Shinobu could muster to say was; “I love you too, unconditionally Kosaku. My heart has been aching for you to say that. Thank you.” She smiled, tears still streaming.

Kira took one of the napkins and as gently as he could, tried to wipe away her tears to no avail, she was so happy that she couldn’t stop crying. The sight of her made Kira smile, she was finally happy after 11 years, but with him, Yoshikage Kira and not Kosaku Kawajiri, if only she knew that, though. Thinking about that made Kira’s heart shatter, but for now. He’ll keep up the fantasy of Kosaku to keep her happy.

Maybe one day, he’ll tell her. Just maybe. Whatever makes Shinobu happy, Kira will abide by, for Yoshikage Kira had fallen in love.

[whatifxwereyou]

Firestorm Part 3: Cross Your Heart

Fandom: Mortal Kombat 2021 Liu Kang x Reader

If you would like to be tagged for Firestorm when I post, let me know.

A/N: Almost forgot today was post day. Really enjoyed writing this one. Liu is just aldkjfwljaflj gah. Thank you guys for reading. Love you. Have a good weekend!

The Oncoming Storm Previous Chapter Next Chapter Chapter Index

Laying around and doing nothing would have been torture. Even with the storm raging as it was that day, your mind was too hectic to sit and listen. Too much had happened. The truth was that you were too exhausted to do much else either. Chen had lingered for a few minutes but had ultimately returned to her duties without saying so much as a word about what had so angered her. Deciding to work within your limits, you walked down the hall and to a small, covered balcony near the stairwell. It wasn’t much, just a stone archway leading onto a dusty platform that overlooked the ravine but it would do.

You’d meditate and the change of scenery would be nice. Raiden had told you to wait until you were feeling more yourself, but you decided to get a head start. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to wait, it was just that you no longer had faith that it was going to get better. What if it just kept happening? What if you kept getting sicker and sicker until you became a shell of yourself?

You couldn’t wait for better. You had fought too hard to come this far and fail.

You weren’t allowed to anything else, after all.

Doctor’s orders.

So you closed your eyes and meditated.

Meditation just became fantasizing about Liu Kang guiding you through meditation which may have been the silliest, most benign fantasy you’d ever had. It still helped to ground you but unconsciously the act had become associated with him.

No. No Liu Kang.

Meditation.

Once you got over the mental distraction that was Liu Kang, you managed to ground yourself. Meditation had been something that had brought you peace for years. As a kid you had relied on it heavily after losing Kung Lao. Even as you managed to find calm, your heart was beating still far too hard and too fast but it was world’s better than it’d been before you sat down. You were sure that if it had been a real problem then Chen never would have left you alone. It probably wasn’t even as fast as you thought. Just faster than you were used to.

As you opened your eyes and watched the rain fall, catching in streams over the side of the balcony, you wondered if you could force a vision. It seemed such a simple idea but you had never once tried to have one on purpose. It was kind of funny now that you thought about it. You’d always been afflicted with them. It had never been a gift and it had never been helpful until today. You shook ‘never’ from your mind and decided that you had to try.

It was a bad idea. You knew that. Bad things happened when you had them but if you didn’t try then you wouldn’t get control over them either. And besides, you would rather those bad things happen only to you and not to those you cared about.

You would try.

There was a significant chance that it wouldn’t work anyway considering that you had no idea how to make it happen or how to start. Your arm stung and you rotated your shoulder again. It was such a pain in the ass now. But you had faith that Raiden would find a way to help you get rid of it or at least keep it from getting any worse.

Deep breaths.

The throbbing in your shoulder was a rhythm you could focus on.

Pattering of rain muted to a dull sound, like distant tapping on a kettle. The sound grew quieter and quieter until it was gone.

It was dark and the weightlessness was unsettling. The room in front of you was odd and you couldn’t place it. A warehouse maybe? It was too dark to tell. There was light filtering in from somewhere to your left but it was cold and blue. The moon, probably. Everything was rushing around you, like smeared paint. Then you heard voices but the words were fuzzy.

You could make out an accent at least. An Australian accent, the kind you’d always been fond of. Even without words you could tell the man was confident, probably overly so. It was bordering on arrogant. There were two figures and they were struggling and then darkness spread beneath them.

Blood pooled and spread, far more than should have been in any one human. The figure that had come out victorious was looking right at you but his face was obscured and twisted. But the rest of him you could see and blazing in the darkness, a brilliant light on his neck.

The dragon mark.

He was a cruel man. A cruel man who had murdered in cold blood and it had resulted in him bearing the mark that would destine him to fight. The scene faded like someone had poured a bucket of paint over it. Your head was pounding and pain radiated through the back of it and down your neck. You had to focus.

You were seeing things, you just weren’t sure what they were or what they meant. His voice had seemed familiar. Had you seen this man before? You hadn’t ever met anyone from Australia before. Perhaps it had been from an earlier vision.

“Y/N!”

The voice called from behind you but you turned and it was like whiplash. Your body fell through the darkness and the sound echoed away into nothingness like the rain. Before you was a crowd of people and they surrounded a cage with two men fighting within it. They were shouting encouragement to the fighters within. An MMA match, maybe? You weren’t sure.

The crowd parted like the angry sea for you. You watched the two men within beat on each other but they were moving too slowly. Their faces, much like the faces of the other men in the warehouse or wherever it had been, were obscured. Hauntingly so. Their features smudged away by unseen hands.

But then there was the light of the dragon mark on the chest of one of the men. He was bloodied up.

Chicago.

You didn’t know why but you knew you were in Chicago. There were no signs that you could make out on the walls and the voices you heard were garbled and strange. It was as though you were underwater and the sound was distorted. Even the movements of the crowd and of the fighters were slowed.

A shadow grew on the other side of the cage. A shadow that spread like roots from a tree. You could hear crackling, like low static from an old radio but it became louder and more like fire.

That was what it was.

Fire.

Flames burned amidst the shadow and rose brightly within it. Inside the flames was the silhouette of a man. You tried to step back from the intimidating presence but your feet were firmly stuck beneath you. Had you stumbled too far into your vision? Were you getting more than you’d bargained for?

The man looked at you, bathed in shadow, hooded. He stared at you with white eyes. Then he took a step closer and the crowd froze along with the fighters in the ring. Fear left you frozen too.

“Y/N!”

The voice was calling to you again but you couldn’t place it.

Gasping suddenly for breath you shot upright from where you’d been laying. Your heart was racing and you grasped your chest and tried to take slower breaths than the ones panic was forcing you to take. Where was the balcony? This wasn’t it. Where were you? Oh. Oh wait.

It was your room.

Relief.

Okay.

You hiccupped trying to take deep breaths and found Liu Kang seated on your bed next to you, elbows on his knees, watching you. He’d been calling to you. It was unmistakable now. You’d heard his voice through your vision.

“Oh, god, Liu…” You were exasperated at the sight of him. “Did I hurt you again?” This was becoming abuse if you had. You laid back down, feeling your head spinning and Liu helped you do so. Sweat was dripping over your face, trickling down your forehead. Your heart was beating out of your chest. You placed a hand over your heart and swore it was going to leap right through it. What a horrible feeling.

“No, Y/N. Not at all.” He looked surprised that you’d be worried about him right now. He placed his hand on your cheek and then checked your eyes as though you’d struck your head again. “I found you outside, unconscious. You wouldn’t respond to me. I was about to bring you to the infirmary. Were you…” He looked to be filled with both relief and worry. You couldn’t blame him.

“I was having a vision.”

“Are you okay?”

“I think so?” You weren’t sure but you didn’t feel like you’d hurt yourself. Maybe you’d start laying down from now on when you tried. “I saw two men with the dragon mark.” You pinched the bridge of your nose while you tried to hold onto the little details.

“Should we call Raiden?”

“No, no it’s not urgent. I’ll write it down and tell him later. I was just… don’t be mad.” You offered a nervous smile and leaned up on your elbows. “I was just trying to get control over… well, anything.” You laughed. It had worked. You had no idea how you’d done it or what exactly you’d seen but you’d done it. You felt like crap but ink hadn’t exploded from you. You hadn’t hurt anyone but yourself. According to Liu, you weren’t even having a fit. You’d been unconscious.

You’d take that as a win.

It was a huge improvement.

“I thought that maybe if I tried to have a vision instead of being forced into one then maybe it would be less devastating.”

“Y/N…” Liu couldn’t have looked more concerned. He didn’t have to say it. You could just tell. “You should have told me. Or Lao. That’s not something you should do alone. It’s dangerous. You could have gotten seriously hurt and no one would have been there to help you.”

“I considered that, Liu, but I need to be able to handle this on my own. You won’t always be with me and I don’t… what if I hurt someone else? It’s different when it’s you. You’re a tough guy. You can handle it but what if… what if I hurt just… Chen or one of my friends? I’d rather it just be me.” You shivered. He smiled sympathetically; those dark eyes filled with a strange admiration. He seemed to have more to say but he held his tongue. He bowed his head in understanding. You appreciated that he was trying, even if he was worried. You’d lived your whole life without him by your side and you needed your independence. He respected that about you and you were grateful for him.

“You’re freezing, Y/N.” He grasped your hand and brushed his thumb over the side of it You got the shivers, but not because you were cold. He had the gentlest and most thoughtful touch.

“Fever probably. This is the second vision today. I suppose I was sort of playing a dangerous game of chicken without thinking.”

“You were. Living very dangerously lately, Y/N. Dancing in lightning storms, for example.” His eyes sparkled and flickered up to yours before down to the prayer beads wrapped around his wrist. He’d been fiddling with them less. Interesting. “I heard about your vision earlier today.” Liu’s smile was soft, his lips just barely upturned. He leaned a little closer to you. “You saved a lot of people from what I hear.”

“I don’t want to take credit for that, Liu. I just saw. I didn’t do any saving.”

“Not taking credit for it doesn’t make it less true.” Liu was often wise in ways that you could never be.

“I’m assuming that you brought me back to my room?”

“Yes. I didn’t want you to be out in the rain. I was going to bring you to the infirmary but I wanted to give you a chance to wake up if it was a vision. I knew that’s what you would have wanted. I figured it was safe to bring you here. Raiden has a way of knowing when things are going catastrophically. He would have found you before I did if it had been something worse.”

You wondered if that was why he had come to you earlier. Had he sensed you’d seen something important? Or perhaps he had felt your panic and knew you’d been in trouble? You struggled to push yourself into a sitting position so Liu helped you do so. His hands were careful and gentle, strong and secure. It reminded you of when you had first arrived at the temple. He had taken such good care of you. You bowed your thanks and then scooted enough so that you could look out your window and watch the rain.

The storm raged on but the thunder was distant now. Rain and wind were kings. Raiden had told you to get control of your visions and your arcana if you wanted to survive and have a fighting chance. It was your only shot to live through this long enough to figure out your truth. You should tell Liu but that was a conversation for another time. He was worried enough. If it came up then you would tell him. No secrets.

He sat next to you before the window but he faced you, legs folded. You watched the rain and he watched you watching it.

“May I say something?” Liu placed his hand on your forearm. His fingers were stained with soot and the soot stained your arm. He was warm. Dramatically warmer than you and it sent a shiver straight through you. He smiled but it faded quickly. “Confess something, rather.” Oh, you hated the way he worded that. What did that mean? You couldn’t make any assumptions. He’d tell you.

“Of course you can, Liu.” You shivered again. Fuck it. Whatever he wanted to say, you would deal with the fallout afterward. Why were you always afraid of rejection? Liu retracted his hand and you immediately missed his touch. He scooted so he was just next to you and stared out the window like you did. He seemed to struggle to find his words.

“Kung Lao and I made a childish bet over which one of us would win your heart.” The words came out very matter-of-factly, like it was a simple thing. You did a double take. Of all the scenarios you’d been panicking about in your head, this was not one of them.

“Huh?” How were you supposed to process that? A bet? What did that even mean, exactly? How could they bet on something like that? You knew how but you didn’t understand.

“It’s stupid. I know. We called it off. No more bet but I still had to tell you that we did it.”

“So… wait, huh?” You laughed in disbelief, feeling a little dumb for not understanding. “I’m sorry, but you made a bet? On my feelings? Like… some terrible movie-style bet made at my expense? Two macho jerks betting on the feelings of another human?”

“If it makes it any better the stakes were just chores.”

“Wow, my feelings are worth chores.” You gasped in disbelief.

“I never felt good about it, Y/N, but it was… harmless. We figured that you were going to make a choice at some point anyway. I uh…” He was suddenly tongue-tied, a very funny thing to see happen to Liu Kang. Like he knew what he had to say but no matter how he spun it, it would come out wrong. “It wasn’t an excuse to trick you into doing anything like… that.” He was uncomfortable talking about romance. Oh no. It was adorable. Like he could be any cuter. “It was just a stupid bet. I couldn’t get it out of my head. It felt manipulative and… I’m sorry, Y/N.”

This had Kung Lao written all over it in capital letters. You could even hear the proposition in Kung Lao’s voice! You bet that he’d put Liu up to it.

“Kung Lao felt guilty too.” Liu was avoiding your eyes. You could see the guilt weighing on his shoulders. Ah, yes. You recognized it now. They had both appeared guilty as shit in separate circumstances. That explained that.

“And what exactly would I get out of this bet, hmm? Like… is someone going to do my chores? I feel like either way I would have won so… someone should be doing my chores.” You tapped your finger on his knee and he laughed in surprise.

“Y/N!”

“What, Liu? Am I supposed to be mad?”

“I thought you might be hurt by it and…” Liu drifted off and watching him drenched in guilt made you a little sad. It was sweet but also sad. He’d been so worried about your feelings getting hurt. If you hadn’t known him so well then it would have hurt but you did. He never would have intentionally done something to hurt you like that.

“Well, answer a question for me.” You were going to have a hard time asking it.

“Of course.”

“Has any of what… you’ve done or what’s happened between us… has it been because of this bet?” That came out easier than you’d expected. Good.

“No.” He answered very quickly and then laughed at himself. “I even held myself back a few times because of it.”

“Then why would I be mad?” You turned to face him, resting your arm against the wall next to the window. “I mean, it does give me some clarity. It explains the few times I noticed you both looking guilty without reason and… the hesitating… some weird behaviors.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” He picked up your hand and held it close to him. Yeah. He was definitely sorry. “I’m… confused that you aren’t angry. I expected you to be at least a little bit.”

“Did you know that the monks in the infirmary are betting on which one of you that I end up with?” You were immune to people in the temple betting on your feelings these days. Maybe if the stakes had been you fucking them it would have felt different, but that hadn’t been the case. Liu clearly did not know they were betting on you in the infirmary, judging by the wide-eyed stare he gave you. You nodded to confirm that it was true and he looked away in disbelief. “It seemed to me like everyone except for me is making a profit off of my feelings. All I get to do is agonize over said feelings.” He laughed. You looked to him in mock aghast.

“It’s funny, Y/N.”

“Yeah, I guess it is a little funny.” You chuckled. Liu’s laughter faded and so did his smile.

“You’re really not angry?”

Wow, you thought you were the overthinker of the bunch.

“Did you fake any of it?” You nervously listed off the incidents on your fingers. “The touches… the close calls? The uh…” You couldn’t believe that you were talking about this so plainly. “The kisses?”

“I don’t think that can be faked, Y/N.”

“Then yeah, I’m not mad.”

“…I’m surprised. I was nervous to tell you.”

“…do I come off as particularly difficult to deal with? I mean other than the visions and the ink stuff.”

“No, it’s not that but…” Liu’s nervous laugh was quiet and cute. “I suppose that I don’t know you well enough to know how you’d react to something like that. And I felt terrible about it from the very beginning. I think that I built it to be something bigger in my head than it actually was.” Liu adjusted the prayer beads from his palm to his wrist again and you admired him as he did. It was kind of nice to see someone besides you a little nervous for once.

“...would you like me to pretend that I’m mad? Would that help? I can stomp around and huff and throw a fit about it. We can have a little pretend fight before I have a change of heart and understand why you did what you did, etcetera.” You suggested with a smile. Liu considered this and looked away but you could see a smile beneath his serious expression.

“That could be fun.”

“I’m really not mad, Liu.” You chuckled and rested your hand on his forearm. His posture shifted back to his usual confidence. “I might pretend that I’m a little mad until Kung Lao tells me though.”

“Oh, please do. This was his idea. Give him a taste of his own medicine.”

“It stunk of Kung Lao.” You gave his arm a squeeze. “Thank you for being honest with me.”

“It’s a huge weight off of my chest.” Liu beamed. You’d never seen him with such a goofy grin on his face. It was charming. “Are you hungry?”

“Umm…”

“Food. Are you hungry? Want to grab a bite to eat with me?”

“I’m not super hungry, but yeah, I should probably eat.”

“I can grab some food and bring it back here. You should be resting after today.”

“I’m fine to go to get food, Liu.” You smiled at his insistence.

“I’m happy to, Y/N. Then it can just be the two of us.” He practically bounced off of your bed and toward the door. You watched him in delight and then rested back against the wall. “I’ll be right back with food. Don’t try to have any more visions, okay?”

“I promise.” You laughed and watched him leave. Then you pulled the blankets around your shoulders, still freezing. Today had been a lot to process. Two visions. One had saved lives; the other was vaguer and more confusing. Either way, you hadn’t exploded with ink or hurt anyone but yourself and that was an improvement. Then there were those little sneaks, Kung Lao and Liu Kang. Making bets behind your back!

You’d been taken off guard but Liu had softened the blow. He had this way about him. Besides, what made their bet so much different from the bet that the monks had in the infirmary? There was no point in being angry about it. It’d only hurt you more. You had enough going on and in the span of things it didn’t seem so important. In fact, it was kind of funny. You were just glad that it had ended before anyone’s feelings had gotten hurt.

_________________________________

Tag List

@shang-hung (lol i wasn't sure if you meant you wanted to be tagged or not so I guess here you go?? Let me know if you want me to take you off!)

[dqrkerstqrs]

truth or drink!

this is based off the cut’s truth or drink series!!

oikawa : hi!

you : hi, uh- my name’s y/n.

oikawa : i’m oikawa, and we… met on tinder.

you send a death glare in his direction and oikawa smiles sheepishly. as this happens, the text that hovers above the two of you says, ‘these “friends” will ask each other a set of random questions. they can either answer the question or take a shot.’

oikawa : i'm jokiiing- stop looking at me like that-

you : we met in high school.

[are you… friends with benefits?]

you : yeah.

[what does that mean?]

oikawa : we’re best friends. but we also fu-

you step on his toes immediately, making him wince and pause in the middle of his sentence.

oikawa : ow, ow, fine- we sleep with each other.

[how often do you sleep with each other?]

you : next question-

oikawa : every day. they just can’t get enough of me-

he sends a wink to the camera while you groan.

you : tooru, stop exaggerating this or i swear-

oikawa : you wanna go first?

you shake your head, motioning for oikawa to take a card.

you : no, you go.

oikawa hums, his knees bumping into yours when he shifts in his seat and reads out the card.

oikawa : hm… what should we call our relationship?

you : um… we’re friends, i guess?

oikawa : best friends.

you :

oikawa : that fu- sleep with each other.

you narrow your eyes.

you : did you really have to add the best friends part?

his brown, fluffy hair bounces as he nods.

you : … i don’t know what you’re talking about, iwaizumi’s my best friend.

you stick your tongue out at him. oikawa shakes his head in denial.

oikawa : they’re lying. we’re best friends.

you roll your eyes playfully. widening his grin, oikawa knows he has won when he sees you try to fight off a small smile.

you : next question.

oikawa : your turn.

you : oh… this one-

oikawa chuckles at the groan you let out.

you : let’s just drink.

oikawa : nooo, what’s the question anyways?

you avert your focus on oikawa, who was blinking way too innocently for your liking. you furrow your eyebrows at him. he smiles with an eyebrow raised.

you : on the count of three, name who likes who more in this relationship?

he snorts, attempting to pass it off as a cough. you grumble under your breath.

oikawa : isn’t it obvious?

you : i hate you.

oikawa : it’s clearly y-

you : no, wait- ugh, fine. let’s just say it on the count of three.

oikawa : fine. one.

you : two.

oikawa : three.

you and oikawa : you.

oikawa has a gleaming white smile carved onto his face while you fold your arms and huff in annoyance.

you : see-

oikawa : well… you did confess to me that one time-

you : i was drunk!

oikawa : well, you know what they say, drunk minds speak sober minds.

you :

oikawa : you even told me how hot you think i am~

oikawa leans forward and rests his chin on the palm of his hand.

you: well- uh- well, i wasn’t the one that got jealous of iwaizumi!

you flick his forehead.

oikawa : ow-

he flinches and moves away to lean against the back of his chair.

oikawa : i mean, to be fair i didn’t know you and iwa are that close to each other!

you recall the amount of times iwaizumi has comforted you whenever you see oikawa leave parties with someone else that’s not you. you purse your lips as the memories come rushing in, unaware of how oikawa’s grumbling under his breath.

you : we are close to each other! you’re just never there when we talk.

oikawa’s jaw slackens. you laugh softly, quickly pushing the memories to the back of your mind before it brings your mood down.

oikawa : you guys hang out without me?

you : yes? why, are you jealous?

you smirk at him before turning to the camera. you miss the flustered expression on his face that was gone within a second.

you : he’s so jealous.

oikawa : am not!

oikawa : so…

y/n : so…?

oikawa : this one’s interesting.

you tilt your head, wordlessly asking him to read out the question.

oikawa : does it hurt your feelings when i sleep with other people that aren’t you?

your eyes widen a fraction.

you : … does it hurt your feelings?

oikawa : no, it’s my question. you answer.

you : um…

you avoid his eyes, opting to look down at your shoes that are sandwiched in between his.

you : it might, i guess.

oikawa : … you guess?

you : i mean, i’d definitely hate it if you were hooking up with your ex. you know how much i hated them.

both of you wince at the memory of his toxic ex, and oikawa scratches the back of his neck sheepishly.

you : you should’ve-

oikawa : i know. i should’ve listened to you.

you : mhm.

oikawa : well, i’m not hooking up with anyone else.

you : you’re… not?

oikawa : it’s, uh… it’s been a while.

you look back up just in time to see him shrug.

[ask him when was the last time he slept with someone other than you.]

you : oh, uh, when was the last time you slept with someone other than me?

oikawa : uh…

you notice how oikawa’s avoiding your eyes.

you : was it… recent?

oikawa : it was last summer, i think. so, no? not recent?

[were they cuter than y/n?]

you briefly glance at the director, nervous of what oikawa’s about to say. to your relief, he shakes his head.

you : … no?

oikawa : no.

you : this one…

you blink at the words before you, rereading it mentally over and over again.

oikawa : what is it?

oikawa leans forward onto his elbows, adjusting the glasses that rest on the tip of his nose. you swat away the hand that tried to reach for your card.

you : where… is the weirdest place we had sex?

oikawa : oh, definitely th-

you : NO, tooru-

oikawa : what-

you : we’re drinking.

oikawa sighs in faux disappointment. you stare daggers at him, and he pretends he doesn’t see. you step on his shoes again for his attention, and the yelp he lets out elicits laughter from the crew. the shot cuts to both of oikawa pouring you a shot of liquor and both of you downing the shot.

oikawa : … it was fun, though.

you : shut. up.

oikawa : would you have a threeway with me?

pausing from rearranging the cards that were haphazardly strewn across the table, you hum in thought.

you : sure.

not expecting the straightforward answer, oikawa almost chokes on his own spit.

you : what?

oikawa : you’re joking… right?

you : … yeah? duh? it’s not like i’ll reveal the answer in front of these cameras.

oikawa : o-oh. yeah. okay.

you : were you… expecting me to say yes…?

oikawa : no. definitely not.

you blink at him when he answers a bit too fast. he blinks back at you. a few moments pass, and oikawa clears his throat to get rid of the unnamed tension in the air.

oikawa : so… we’re drinking to this one?

you : um… yeah.

both of you down the shot in awkward silence. you don’t think about how it’s probably not the alcohol that’s painting his face red.

you take one of the last two cards in front of you.

you : oh! i’ve actually been wanting to ask him this myself.

oikawa : hm?

you : so, tooru… when are you going to introduce me to your parents?

oikawa scratches his chin in contemplation.

you : they’d love me, y’know?

you grin playfully. oikawa smiles, and the sincerity behind it throws you off.

oikawa : they probably would. even my sister loves you.

you : oh, i know. once she told me that she’d replace you for me with no hesitation.

oikawa : that was so uncalled for-

you laugh. oikawa smiles. you think it’s from the memory, but it’s really from the sound of your laughter.

oikawa : whatever, takeru’s on my side.

you glance at the cameras with a knowing look on your face. oikawa silently watches you as you mouth ‘no, he’s not’ to the camera, the corners of his lips tugging upwards at the sight.

you : so?

oikawa : … huh?

you : when are you introducing me to your parents?

oikawa : oh.

you :

oikawa : when you date me.

taken by surprise, your mouth forms an ‘o’. oikawa laughs.

you : that’s- that’s foul! i wasn’t expecting that- stop laughing!

[what makes your relationship that much different from someone who says they’re in a committed relationship?]

you : well… hm…

oikawa : it’s not that much different, to be honest.

you : actually, yeah.

oikawa : the difference is just that one of us wouldn’t commit.

oikawa stares at you pointedly. you purse your lips.

[why?]

you : i… i don’t know… well, i was young. and insecure. and he had fans that i don’t wanna mess with. has, actually. so i just thought it’d be bad if we got into a relationship.

oikawa : … thought?

you :

oikawa : you thought it’d be bad? so… you don’t think so anymore?

you : … keep that up and it’s gonna change to think.

oikawa raises his hands up in defense. this time, oikawa lets you see the sincere (you’re not sure but, lovesick, perhaps) smile he has been sporting every time you’re turned away from him.

you : last one?

your head whips to the crew standing behind the cameras. they nod in response.

oikawa : my turn, right?

you : mhm.

oikawa takes the last card. his eyes scan the words before him, before looking up and boring a hole into your skill with his gaze.

oikawa : do you love me?

you :

oikawa :

you : yeah.

oikawa :

you : yeah, of course.

oikawa : like, in a… i-want-to-be-your-significant-other kind of way or…

you : do you… want me to be…?

oikawa : did i not make that clear enough?

silence hangs heavy on your shoulders, and you look away from his intense stare. you blame the two shots of alcohol for the sudden surge of boldness in oikawa’s behavior.

you : at least… at least take me out on a proper date first–

oikawa : okay, then it’s settled. i’m picking you up this friday. okay?

you finally muster up the courage to look back at him.

you : … okay.

it’s silent for a few seconds, but it’s not like last time. it’s comfortable. warm. you return oikawa’s smile.

oikawa : did we just have our ‘the fault in our stars’ moment?

you : that’s it, you ruined it.

loud laughter from the crew is heard as the scene fades to black. the director shouts ‘it’s a wrap!’ as oikawa apologizes a multitude of times, telling you he’ll treat you for a week in exchange for your forgiveness. you forgive him. oikawa shouts ‘yes!’, clamping a hand over his mouth when he realizes he’s being too loud, and you laugh at his antics.

special cut!!!

oikawa : read the last booty call i sent you.

you : oh my god.

you pick up your phone that has been sitting on your lap, sighing.

you : see, here’s the thing about oikawa tooru.

oikawa chuckles.

you : he doesn’t beat around the bush when it comes to these things. he just… straight up tells you what he wants.

you scroll through the endless sea of chat bubbles, looking for the texts that he sent a few days ago. and when you finally found the text you were looking for, you look back to oikawa’s expectant eyes.

you : are you sure you want me to read this?

oikawa nods, pressing his lips together to stifle the laughter bubbling up his throat. you look at the director.

you : i think you might have to bleep this out…

[that’s okay. let’s hear it.]

you take a deep breath.

you : keep in mind i was at work when he sent this. okay-

you clear your throat.

you : tuesday, 1 pm. can i come over tonight? i want you to-

i hope you liked it!! i’ve been inspired by so many amazing writers on here like @kybabi and @bellesowl​ so don’t forget to check their blogs out too!

[rulerofstars]

us, a paradigm

What happens when two anxious hearts collide?

Pairing: Levi x fem!reader

Genre: College of Engineering!AU, angst, fluff, smutty themes.

Warnings: Swearing.

Word count: 4.5k words.

Angel: I just reached 100 followers! Words can never explain how glad I am to write for you, I’m thankful that I am somehow able to make you guys happy by doing what I love. Enjoy this one.

Commitment issues are so rampant, and you were never really surprised when it dawned to you how much of a coward you are when it comes to responsibilities and devotions. It is scary. People are scary. One moment you are in love then suddenly, you are not. Doubts and questions have always filled your heart whenever you consider taking another step, what if I misunderstood my feelings for something else?

Trust is a huge word. And being someone who overthinks a lot has compromised your standards to believe, and it sucks.

Hanji on your side continued rambling about how much of a bitch the professor was earlier, based on your observation, they had been late and caused a distraction upon entering the classroom, interrupting the discussion. You sighed as you carried the tray filled with your not so favorite foods towards a vacant spot inside the busy cafeteria.

Your eyes wandered for a moment, sighting various chaotic scenarios around you. Every single person had their own shit to do, there are couples gobbling up each other’s faces, decent Science people who study while eating, gossips who had nothing better to do but to stick their noses up a random person’s business, jocks who are so noisy, oh, and the Computer engineering majors who had just entered the cafeteria. Their presence is indeed, intimidating, especially the seniors.

“What are you doing here? Your building’s literally light years away.” Hanji interrogates as Erwin sat on the vacant spot next to them, and Mike to your left, making you scoop to your right to give him more room since he is. . . a giant.

Erwin took his iPad with its green silly case out, and the pen with the matching silly case, of course. These men, you chuckled.

“Levi wanted some tea and we don’t have tea in our cafeteria.” Mike shrugged, playing with plants versus zombies part 2 on his phone. Levi is here, then? You thought, your heart pumping a little bit faster when you heard his name, anticipation run through your veins.

A white mug has been placed in front of you, the steam radiating from the drink smelled like your favorite warm drink.

“Speaking of the fucking devil.”

Levi scoffed, sitting next to Hanji and in front of you, leaning against the backrest as he took a sip from his own insulated tumbler, two strings with tags hanging from it. He gave you an eyebrow flash, acknowledging your presence and saying “hey” without actually talking.

You looked down on your mug and avoided his meaningful glances, the warmth of your drink aided your icy-ass hands, as Levi would have called it.

No one knows what is going on between you and the man, by no one, that includes you and him. The both of you are stuck in the anomaly of being afraid to get serious, yet not wanting to let go of each other’s hand. You wanted to laugh at the irony. Years spent of mastering algorithms and theories, yet you cannot even figure out the real score behind the actions and emotions that are involved whenever you meet. Two clever individuals who are unbelievably dumb when it comes to commitments and relationships.

“What are we?”

It was a cold evening eight weeks ago, the fairy lights surrounding you provided warm lusters that helped you distinguish Levi’s emotion. But the man had none on his face, and so did you. You are both puzzles waiting to be solved, but not ready for significant changes.

“We’re happy.”

You fuck, you have felt him in so many ways, in different positions, in different places. But the intimacy did not just stop on how you beg for his touch and how he does for you. You are fuck buddies who had pillow talks at 3:00 am, talking about your plans and what kind of goals you have. He told you about his dreams, complained to you about his day, the both of you laughed about how Erwin gave into the blandishments of a salesperson and actually bought silly-looking cases. While you helped him test his projects and cook whenever he had a bad day, joy runs through your blood when you got his tea right, when he lets you take his hoodies home, and lends you his favorite pen.

And perhaps you are fuck buddies, with something more. Neither you nor him, had wanted to clear the score in between, and you chose to dwell within the intimacy and warmth of his being. No labels, no relationships, just two people who enjoyed the company of one another.

“(Y/N), let’s go we’re almost late.” Hanji says, grabbing their bag and standing up, almost hitting Erwin with their steel keychains.

You sighed, grabbing your bag and nodding at the boys, flashing your eyebrows at Levi, too.

_____

The holiday season could be felt inside the campus. Various Christmas decorations appeared everywhere, peppermint mocha now available in the cafeteria, green and red garlands outlined every doorway. Santa Claus just vomited in your university, and you are not hating it, yesterday, you even heard someone playing Christmas songs. It’s the season for ugly sweaters with reindeers in it, and you can’t wait to give one for each of your friends, including your juniors. You wanted to laugh at the thought.

Levi’s warm hands found their way under your- well, his hoodie as he fondled with your breasts while you sat in front of your laptop, leaning against him, and him leaning against the headboard of your bed.

“I’m busy,” You lightly scolded him, trying to shoo his hands away, but he groped your left breast a bit tighter and played with your right nipple.

“Levi!” You called out, playfully glaring at him. This man is insatiable, you thought.

He let out a hearty chuckle and placed his head on your nape. This kind of moments are those you consider unusual, if Levi is clingy then it is unusual.

Warm kisses are placed at the back of your neck and it did send chills all the way to your bones. You love the way he kisses you like some kind of candy, obsessed with how you taste, demanding for more of you.

“Stop moving,” He groaned, burying his face on your hair, inhaling your scent, “This weather is making me horny.”

Your fingers had stop typing for a while, trying to register what he had just said, “You are always horny.” A giggle escaped from your throat, ignoring his thirst for attention. This essay is more important than your needs, and it is due in an hour. Maybe after that, you can satisfy this man’s ache for pleasure.

Levi scoffed, getting out of your warm bed with only his grey sweatpants. Your eyed darted to his lean body and admired him for a bit before going back to your task.

He has been here since last night, he had a few drinks with Erwin and Mike at the newly opened bar, and apparently, he is too tired to drive back to his apartment. You shook your head at the thought, he’s five minutes away. Hanji told you about the Christmas event next week, and it was eventually announced to you by the dean.  

“Your fridge is so gloomy,” Levi states, you did not look up to him as you continued typing for your report for a minor subject. You sighed, Chemical Engineering is fun with all the laboratories and stuff, but the reports and calculations? No.

“Yeah, I haven’t gone to the grocery since last week so. . .” You trailed. Besides, you were too busy to cook for yourself, so you either had to call for food deliveries, buy your food at school, or go to Levi’s place for food. He is a decent cook, and you really do not have to worry about the cleanliness of the food.

The man sat beside you and looked at your screen, eyeing your word count. You are near your goal and you would definitely let the software check for your own work after this. He planted a kiss on your cheek.

“Let’s go to the store then.” He grumbled, he was eager for your food last night, had he not slept immediately after lying on your bed.

You stared at him, the corner of your lips curving upwards to form a smile. He rarely initiates grocery dates, he had been with you thrice, but he grows impatient whenever you are having a hard time choosing from two different brands, plus there are chances that one of your friends could see you hanging around.

“Okay. . .” You hummed earning a little yet captivating smirk from him. Levi never fails to make your heart flutter whenever he shows you his rare smile, “After this.”

His breath tickled your ear when he placed his chin on top of your shoulder, itching for you to finish your goddamn report.

“One round before going?”

“Oh, shut up.”

_____

The store is not that crowded when you came, the pushcart’s handle is imprinted with Christmas-inspired designs, and everyone’s wearing their warm, cozy sweaters, and you happen to be wearing one of Levi’s university hoodies, too.

“You don’t need that much butter.” He mutters upon seeing you stock up on one of your favorite canned butters, you made face.

“You’re not sure.”

As you walk along the aisles, the sight of sale and canned cookies immediately distracted you, leaving Levi and the cart to him. It ain’t Christmas without a can of butter cookies, you smiled at the cute design embossed on the can.

“Oh, (Y/N)!”

Hanji’s voice caused you to freeze on the spot. Where’s Levi? Had they seen you with him?

“Hey,” You smiled, turning around and thanking God that Levi wasn’t there, he probably went to another section the moment he had seen your friend, “You alone?” You asked, holding three cans of biscuit on your hand.

“Yeah, yeah I’m- wait, is that a hoodie from the. . .” They gasped, slapping your arm causing you to wince in pain. That fucking stings.

You swear to God Hanji’s laugh is so loud everyone could hear.

“(Y/N), you slut!” They cackle, people are weirdly staring at the both of you. Shyness crept in your system. “Who is it? Does Erwin, Mike or Levi know this guy?”

In the corner of your eyes, you saw Levi looking at you from the far corner of the grocery, the cart already filled with the supplies that you need, lacking what you really want, he signaled you to check your phone and immediately walked away, probably heading to the cashier already.

“I-I don’t know, okay? It was one night.” Lousy lies came out of your mouth, and you already knew that Hanji would not buy this. They smirked at you, patting your shoulder.

“Whatever you say, honey, I’ll get going, don’t forget to buy condoms, okay?”

Your face is now so red because of the sudden conversation and how loud Hanji’s voice was. Everyone in that section probably thinks that you really are a slut. You face palmed, stopping to your tracks when you remember what Levi had signaled you to do so.

Levi: I got you all you need, just meet me in my car.

(Y/N): k just lemme pay for some cookies

Without waiting for his reply, you shoved your phone in your bag. Immediately heading to the cashier to pay for your beloved butter cookies. It was a shame, though. You thought. You were somehow anticipating to have a decent grocery shopping date with Levi, and it was cut short.

You sighed. Maybe some things just are not meant to happen, after all.

 _____

The whole room seemed to be too huge as you walk your way towards your seat, next to Nanaba. She eyed you as if you were an alien, confusion is plastered across her face as you limped, wincing when you were not careful enough for another step.

“What happened to you?” She asks, helping you put your heavy-ass bag down and cringing upon hearing your whims.

Levi happened. “Nothing, I worked out too hard.” You lied, again, loathing how hard the chair is against your butt and sore muscles, flinching whenever a muscle aches suddenly, remembering how unquenchable your thirst was last night. Nonstop fucking happened in your apartment, hours of skin-to-skin activities had made you limp and as Levi would say, fucking weak.

Huge, fresh, and screaming hickeys greeted you this morning that you wanted to storm into Levi’s apartment and kick him in the nuts. Good thing you have a concealer, because knowing your friends, you would be in the hot seat if ever they see the marks on your neck.

Modules were handed out to all of you, the professor of this minor but terrible subject gave one final activity and you are officially done with your finals here. You immediately worked on it, ignoring Hanji’s blabbering and occasionally saying yes whenever them and Nanaba asks you questions, something about going to the mall later. You really do not have any kind of plans, so.

“Say, have you seen the invitation for the soiree?” Hanji started, your head lifted up at what they had just said.

You raised a brow at her, “It’s a soiree now? I thought it was just a simple event.” You left your most decent dresses at home! And by home, it meant not your apartment.

“Are you not happy?” Nanaba asks, bewildered because of your reaction, “Just buy one later.”

Hanji scoffs, “You’re lucky you’d get to have a formal date with the computer guy,” Your eyes widened at her sudden remark, Nanaba is now perplexed and looking back and forth at the two of you.

“She’s fucking someone from Comp Engineering, I saw her yesterday. . .”

Sighing, you eventually let Hanji spill the beans to Nanaba. It is not like they would know, anyway. But, the thought of being scared of your friends knowing bothered you a lot. What if you admit that you and Levi are fucking? Then it would be okay, right?

No it won’t. It is you and Levi. They would go berserk if they realize that you, a dean’s lister, and Levi, one of the most serious individuals who looks like one who does not have a sex life, is settling in a relationship with no labels. No responsibilities, you know better than that. But that is what makes it safe, right?

Him and I, but never ‘us.’ You felt a twinge in your heart when you thought about it, shaking the thought away and butting in your friends’ conversation.

Still limping, you followed your friends towards a decent boutique when you arrived at the mall. They offered you different kinds of clothing, and luckily, they have dresses which are pleasant enough to make you look pleasant.

“Is it required to have a date?” Nanaba questioned, reading whatever is on the invitation. You shrugged your shoulders, not really interested on having a date.

“What are you, a high school student?”

You rolled your eyes at the both of them, you could already feel the unnecessary argument starting to brew, “I think it depends on you, it would not matter, anyway.” You said, eyeing a white dress from afar.

“But I want to be a high school student!” Hanji whined.

Ignoring your friends, you approached the silk dress. Adoring how nice it looks and envisioning how it might look on you. The saleslady greeted you, giving a kind smile that you returned, “Do you want to try it?”

The dress suited you finely. White’s elegance never fails to make you enchanted, and upon trying the dress, you immediately know that it’s the one.

“Ooh! I’ve got an idea! What if I tell Erwin to ask me out?” Hanji asks, making you laugh while you admire yourself in the mirror. It’s perfect.

“Don’t be silly, I heard he’s planning to ask Marie out.” Nanaba interferes, they are talking from different fitting rooms, you sighed.

“Marie will probably go with Nile,” Hanji rebuts “And where did you learn that from?”

Nanaba cleared her throat, “I heard it from Mike.”

Hanji’s loud teasing is probably heard across the whole shop, spatting various accusations about Nanaba and Mike’s relationship, and the latter defended herself, claiming that they are just friends. And if the person knew about you and Levi, it would probably be worse than this, but just like them, you are all aware that you are just friends.

 _____

Hanji: jst take me w u Erwin

Mike: the man’s sad because of his lil crush

Hanji: yep cmon just ask me i wont reject u c:

The night before the soiree, your group’s groupchat has been louder than it usually was. Turns out, Marie, the girl that Erwin had planned to ask out, has already agreed going with Nile, someone form Architecture. Mike’s with Nanaba, and they easily slipped off everyone’s teasing because it was pretty obvious, even way before. Hanji’s pestering Erwin about taking them to the soiree as his date.

Erwin: Okay, fine.

Moblit’s planning to go alone because according to him, having a date will spoil the fun. You are going alone, too. And so is Levi who is currently lying in your bed, bare and naked.

“They won’t suspect anything if we go alone.” The mutual decision offered many pros, and having a date’s just formality, too. The two of you did not see the point of going with someone, in your terms, you are done being high school students.

You rested your chin against your palm while you eyed Levi who is scrolling through his phone. Chilly air entered your apartment and you rolled your eyes at the sight of open windows that the both of you had forgotten to close earlier because you were busy snogging.

“‘Cha doin’?” You asked, straddling Levi and snuggling against his chest to steal his warmth. He lets you in by moving the blanket so that the both of you are nicely covered, his cologne still lingering on his skin despite the sweat that had cascaded down his body earlier, while he was busy pounding into you.

He pressed his lips on your forehead, placing his one arm over your bare back, feeling the coldness and gently rubbing it away, “Checking some shit.”

You played with his hair for a while, twirling his jet-black hair in your fingers and occasionally massaging his undercut, earning a groan every once in a while. Your fingers gently walked down to his sharp jawline, reaching his neck. The bruises you have left is now extremely light marks, as they already faded away.

“Will you go home?” You asked, implying for him to stay the night and cuddle with you. His bluish grey eyes looked down at you, softening upon seeing your angelic face.

“I’ll go home tomorrow morning,” He says, placing you on your bed and turning to his side to hug you and pepper your chest with kisses.

_____

Tomorrow evening came by fast, you were picked up by Mike and Nanaba, and now, you are on your way to the hotel venue. Third wheeling has always been your role at dates, you smiled at the thought. This event became an impromptu prom for college students, and you silently hoped that there would be a mobile bar, at least.

Erwin, Moblit, and Hanji waited for the three of you by the entrance, they looked dashing in their clothes. You kissed their cheeks the moment you approached them, and you did not get away from your classmates who praised how well you looked tonight.

The silk, white dress accentuated every feature that you have got. In Mike’s words, “Girl’s damn pretty.”

You presented your stubs upon entrance and your friends picked a seat near the buffet table. These people. You shook your head and followed everyone, sitting in the middle of Hanji and Nanaba as you sat down and let your eyes wander for a moment.

The whole place screamed Winter wonderland and you were glad upon picking the color white for an outfit. Again, people were up for their own shit. Some are already lining up on the mobile bar, taking pictures, some are trying to make out, you lifted your hand when you saw Mikasa and Eren, along with Armin and waved your hands at them.

To accommodate the whole department of engineering, one must have a venue as big as the fucking Earth, and you are glad that the place’s actually wide enough, you can’t stand being in a crowded place, and so is Levi.

“Where’s shorty?”

Erwin looked up upon hearing Hanji’s voice, he’s playing another mobile game with Mike. “He’s with his date, I guess.”

Your heart skipped a beat after hearing what Erwin had just said. He’s got a what?

“Really? Who?” Hanji asks, munching up the appetizers on your table.

The blonde man shrugged his shoulders, “I think it’s Ral, she’s our classmate.”

Of course, who are you to feel jealous? You ran your fingers through your hair to relieve the horrible feeling of being betrayed, because after all, you had no label, no commitments. All you did was fuck, is it bad that your heart felt like it has been stumped on millions of times because of a non-existent relationship? Maybe.

A woman with beautiful auburn hair greeted your sight, next to her is Levi, his hand held hers the way he did with yours after hours of fucking and playing around. You wanted to punch yourself at this very moment. Because somehow, you anticipated that you’d be his girl for the night. You expected him to be next to you, while the both of you exchange meaningful glances and stares that meant a lot more than just “hey”.

Or did you mistook his stares for something more than you were supposed to?

The chair produced a screeching sound as you stood up, grabbing your bag and putting the chair back to its place. You are pretty sure that everyone’s perplexed because of your sudden movements.

“Where are you going?” Hanji held your wrist, demanding an immediate answer.

“I’m thirsty, goin’ to the bar.” You break away from their grasp, and you heard their chair move as well.

Their arm draped around your shoulders, “Ooh, feisty, I’m coming along!”

_____

Warm, strong mixes of alcohol provided your throat the spirit and your system the courage to confront the man later. You want to be demolished, body and soul. You had no fucking idea, that letting go of something that was never yours to begin with would feel this way.

Okay, that hurts.

Looking to your left, you saw Hanji trying to drink every kind of cocktail, you already know her end game. Godbless our poor Erwin, you thought.

“Hey.”

You hated the familiarity of his voice, and how your heart reacts whenever he is near. Levi fucking Ackerman is next to you, eyeing how you drink the tequila as if it was orange juice.

“Go back to your date, Levi,” You said calmly, sucking on the lemon. Nothing could be more bitter than this night.

He placed his hand on your back, “She asked me to.” Remorse filled his voice. You know Levi. You know that he would not even look at you even just for a second if he already had his eyes on another person.

“It’s okay, Levi.” You can’t even look at him.

His warm hand captured your wrist once again, lightly tugging you, and you could not refuse anyway. You let him lead the way until you reached the secluded garden. The place might be off-limits, but who fucking cares? You are about to get heart broken, might as well do this in a nice place.

“What’s your problem?” You scoffed at his question, glaring at him with your cold eyes. Pain is evident within the depts of your stares, and God knows how sorry Levi is for making you feel this way.

“Really?”

You are about to walk away when he grabbed your hand and forced you to stay in front of him. His strong arms caged your body.

“Fuck, (Y/N), just say something.” He whispered.

The both of you are fools whose hearts resonated against the beat of the other.

“There is nothing in between us, that is my problem! Y-you don’t know how defenseless I have felt when I saw you with her,” You burst, thousands of unsaid sentiments are now overflowing along the tears that had escaped your eyes, “I’m not dumb. You aren’t, too. Why won’t we just fucking admit?”

He sighed against your hair, rubbing your back with his free hand and embracing you with the other, “You know,” He cleared his throat, “The moment I laid my eyes on you, I knew that one day you’ll have me,” His hand lifted your face, kissing your tears away, “You weren’t hard to love, (Y/N).”

“I hate how you called me your friend when my heart called you something else, I hate how my being sought for a label while we kept this as a secret,” The music echoed from the function hall, a sign that the main event had already started. Your trembling lips set everything you wanted to say free, “I was fucking scared, Levi. I was scared of commitments and responsibilities, and then you came along. . .”

Levi pulled you closer to his body, you could feel the turmoil residing within his chest. “And I don’t want to be scared anymore.” You sobbed within his embrace. You are both aware of how you feel. How the little things that mattered to you and him had meant something more than just being friends with benefits.

“Your eyes gave you away,” He chuckled, planting a kiss on your forehead, “I am a shitty person, you know that,” He said, holding you tighter. None of you wanted to let go, because you are both cowards who did not know how to start, and now you are clueless about what will happen if ever you let go, “And I would settle for anything as long as you’d be with me. I was a scum for thinking about the risks of being official without even trying. I was afraid that you’d know me more- I’m fucked up, (Y/N), then you’ll get tired of me. . .”

He made you look at him directly in the eyes, fondness and passion lurking along the hues of grey and blue, “And I don’t want you to be tired of me.”

Your emotions sang as one, the wind accompanying you both as you realized the choices that you have. Along the months of drowning in denials and trying to withdraw against the whisper of your hearts, you found yourself being carried away by the intensity of fate, just to lead you against each other’s embrace.

“Are you scared?” You asked, clinging onto him like there is no more tomorrow, feeling the tenderness of his heartbeats.

“I won’t be, for as long as I am with you.”

You nodded against his embrace, relief washing the anxiety and pain from your system. Commitments are scary, responsibilities seem to be terrifying, but nothing’s worse than letting a chance slip away because of cowardice. Nothing is worse than not being able to hold his hand and eventually having to let go.

“What do we call us?” You asked, letting him sway you against the cozy Christmas song.

He smiled, planting a soft kiss on your lips, “Lovers.”