#throwing this post to the void and going to take a nap

[nellasbookplanet]

Thinking about the fight against the guards in the second episode of divergence. It hits this sweet spot so rarely seen in combat/action heavy media: one where violence (even violence where goodness is victorious) isn't triumph but tragedy, and yet we must still strive for it for the sake of freedom.

Don’t get me wrong, there are some massively triumphant and cool moments in that fight (Crokas using the vestige, uprising of the common people, the captain of the guard falling, Crokas' epic resurrection, multiple pc's gaining level 1 mid fight), but it's also a fight whose very nature and purpose is dependent on the unfairness of its existence. These people aren't fighters. To have a chance of winning, the party must urge other refugees even weaker than them to join a fight against a much more powerful opponent. Brennan all but spells out that these people are weak and scared and there’s nothing fair in asking this of them, yet it must be asked anyway or they're all doomed.

Rei'nia starts out trying to usher vulnerable people to safety; she must pivot to instead urging them to fight. She chooses to put Luz, the only living connection to her missing family, on the battlefield. Luz, just as weak as everyone else, dies; Rei'nia is left not in the triumph of victory but questioning if it was worth it. The kenku who stepped up and shouted that they cannot all be killed is one of the first to be cut down. Erro, the one who started the fight and was left at death's door, is asked before he knows how it will end for him whether it was worth it. Crokas ends the fight fully catatonic. Him being covered in blood from his kills and having been resurrected by lightning is cool as fuck, but then the fight ends and we see him not triumphant but barely remembering how to be a person.

Other big epic fights may have moments of tragedy, but it’s when one of the (usually powerful) main characters or their loved ones fall. Unnamed NPCs may fall to the wayside as nothing but flavoring to show the seriousness of the fight. Here, everyone is powerless. Everyone has an NPC statblock. The players must personally pick the refugees the choose to put on the battlefield, knowing they will likely die.

We are left remembering there isn't truly anything cool about all this. It’s hopeful for sure, desperate people coming together to grab hold of their fate; but it's still a tragedy that it had to happen at all. It’s an unfairness and a dehumanizing horror, yet it's necessary to embrace the unfairness of resistance and horror of violence for hope of freedom to have a chance to be born.

[minijenn]

Weird/Dumb UF Comments from Across the Years

Feeling spicy and nostalgic for some of the bullshit I've had to put up with both in the old UF era and the new so I figured I'd compile some of the most insane and pathetic comments I've gotten on the fic (and on other fics about UF because people are really that dumb) and share them with you because some of these you really can't make up. These people speak for themselves in the way they act about a goddamn fanfiction of all things, so have a whole bunch of them (some with context, some without) for your enjoyment. Mind you these are primarily from across FF.net, AO3, tumblr asks, and DeviantArt, most of them are anon comments because Cowardice, and all of them are 100% fucking real things I've gotten in the past and had to look at with my own eyes so now you do too. So with that said, Let's go:

Let's start with some relatively recent stuff, like this DeviantArt comment I got the other day:

Chat is it homophobic to tell a bisexual that their comfort ship is a fetish?

I... ok. (I'm very tired)

Ok this is a really stupid take when you consider Connie wasn't even in over half of Steven Universe episodes but go off I guess (dude parrots this point constantly like jesus you're so boring get some new material bro)

That feel when you reboot your fanfic and people are still mad about it

Now, let's throw it back to old UF and that time someone threatened to kill my cats (no really) on top of hitting on me??? Bruh

Oh we just straight up out here being polyphobic ok

I don't even know what to say about this one its just... bonkers

This one's just become a straight up meme over on my discord and you can probs tell why

Meltdown on main ig (heads up there's a slur in this one)

And ya'll wondered why I stopped writing old UF like...???

Again. Literal fucking temper tantrum

The way people put UF up on this goddamn pedistal like christ my guy its just a silly fanfic oy

There are three types of UF fans...

When you leave aimless nonsense comments on all three of an author's fics but in the end you still are basically screaming into the void

This one was on Keys and I... (raises hand) you know what? (puts hand down) Not worth it.

Chat is it weird to simp over a random fanfic writer you never met to an unhealthy degree

Man I guess this dude has never seen the metric fuckton billion GF AU fics out there also wow ok

Chat is it queerbaiting to slow burn to a ship that is eventually gonna be canon

Actual mysogynist moment (these people really had no shame)

Jesus (again slur warning)

Fucking big pharma??? huh??? DRAFTED???? BRUH

Yeah idk if I can top that level of crazy so that's all I got for now but hey maybe I'll revisit this post in the future. or not, idk fuck it fuck all this Im gonna go take a nap

[beelsbignaturals]

🐄 DEMON FORMS: BELPHEGOR 💤

AN: thanks void for helping w the tags ♡♡♡ also jsyk my requests are open and I am gonna be working on them slowly but surely. I have a con in like... a little over a week? So I'm a lil busy rn but thank u for the love on my creepy demon posts. As always you can check the obey me world building tag on my blog to see the other parts of this series :3

inspiration for this part: honestly, nothing specific unless you count like,,, The Hat Man

TWs: body horror, possession, sleep paralysis, mentions of insanity, mentions of psychosis, lesson 16 mention, demons being demons

● Okay, Level 1.5 belphie is more common than a regular human looking belphie because he can't be bothered most of the time. Also, he doesn't like humans that aren't you, so why would he want to be palatable for them? He has permanent eyebags. He goes back and forth between blinking way too fast or not at all. Which …Is unsettling. He can stare for hours and fall asleep like that. He has cow ears, and his tail is out because he plays with the fluffy part as a stress response. It makes him feel safe (probably bc beel will brush his tail for him when it gets all tangled, and he secretly LOVES it. Puts him to sleep in seconds.) Speaking of sleep, if you look directly at Belphie, he is very…. Fuzzy looking. Like you just woke up and everything's blurry, but it's only him that looks like this. 

Today is the day you learn demons can purr. You knock on the door of the twins' room, entering when you hear a quiet "come in." Perhaps you expected to see Belphie napping on Beel's back while the larger twin does push-ups. You certainly didn't think you'd see the pair sitting on the floor, Belphegor's tail being meticulously detangled by his brother. Belphie looks a bit like a house cat, curled up on the floor, eyes closed and purring as his tail occasionally swishes about. You silently take a video and leave before Belphie wakes up and forces you to delete it.

● Level 2. His tail grows large thorns, perfect for thwacking anyone who annoys him. He constantly smells like lavender and something else that no one can for sure define, but if you stand too close, you will get drowsy. Everything about him seems a bit… uncanny valley. He doesn't look terrifying so much as he looks…. Just,,,, Incorrect. His breathing sounds like a white noise machine.  This is the form he takes during lesson 16. He chooses it specifically so he doesn't make you run immediately. 

Despite the trauma that you experienced, you have learned to find comfort in Belphegor's demon form. Sometimes, you doze off to the sound of his breathing while your hands play with the soft fur of his ears. On more than one occasion, you have compared Belphie to one of the children from Polar Express, which got you smacked in the face by his tail. But even when you get on his last nerve, he is careful not to cut you with the sharp barbs on his tail. A silent apology for killing you once upon a time.

● Level 3. Goodbye sleepy, cozy weirdness, and hello sleep paralysis demon. The thorns on his tail get larger and spread to cover his arms. His eyelids just. Fuck off. He doesn't have them anymore. Jeff the Killer looking bitch. The longer you look at him the more…absolutely fucking AWFUL he looks. Five minutes? He has double the normal amount of teeth. Ten? His horns are casting shadows that look like every nightmare you've ever had. Twenty and all of a sudden you are literally frozen in place. If he's feeling kind, he will use magic to knock you unconscious. If not, you are going to be stuck like this until well after he leaves. If he leaves. Also, he eats dreams.

You will occasionally wake up in the dead of night to the sound of raspy breathing. When you look up, you find a pair of eyes staring intently at you. In the first few seconds after waking, your dreams are so incredibly vivid that it shocks you when they dissappear from your memory, as if it never happened. You yawn, throwing a pillow at the demon's face. Which causes Belphie to laugh, not losing balance from his perch at the end of your bed for even a second.

● Level 4. He is more mist than corporeal. He can be more on the solid side. He just prefers not to. If he is in this form, hold your breath and run. Breathing in any of the mist has…. Very bad side effects. You might find yourself unable to sleep ever again, no matter how tired, until eventually you go insane. Or perhaps living your worst nightmares is more your speed? Either way, it's absolutely horrifying, and he doesn't even have to do any work to destroy you. He just makes you do that yourself. If he likes you, he can make the effects a lot less awful. Breathing in the mist is literally breathing Belphegor, so he can also read your mind (all the better to find your deepest fears). You can hear a whispery voice in the back of your head… that's him. He likes to hang out and chat with Beel like this. Or plot anti-Lucifer activities with Satan since only the person he is possessing can hear him. He can suggest you do all sorts of things, and if you aren't paying attention, you might think it's your body working on its own. If he talks normally while just being a cloud of mist, his voice is surprisingly loud, encompassing the whole room.

A tiny voice, one you know all too well, speaks in the back of your mind. The first time this happened, you thought it was your conscious or something. Perhaps a psychotic break. But no, it is just the youngest of the seven demons you live with. Belphie enjoys backseat driving while you go about your day. He laughs when you trip (honestly, it might be him that caused it...), makes jokes at the most inappropriate times, causing you to choke on your own spit, trying to suppress laughter. And when someone is being particularly rude, he gets rather descriptive in his insults. But hey, he means well. You think.

[zaissk-thasskar]

Entry #1 - "The Death Of Old Me"

Um, hello, Tumblr.

I've never written a blog posts before, and even with so many letters.

And I've never shared my thoughts with any kind of audience (and yeah, even 0 followers counts - my words are still leaving my mind and entering the internet... someone might read them).

So, where do I even start?

On May 11th, something inside me snapped - or maybe clicked. An actual reboot of the self. Version 2.0 of "me" woke up.

It was a Sunday. I was playing ESO like always, running around Cyrodiil, kiting noobs in the tower at Faregyl. But then the lag hit. Nothing huge - ping was "normal" (for me), hovering around 150-200. But my heals wouldn't work. I couldn't bar-swap in time. Some PvE clowns with heavy attacks ended my ass.

It wasn't even a fair loss. That's what pissed me off. It wasn't a misplay. I just died because some hamster powering ZOS's servers decided to take a nap.

It wasn't the first time that happened. But this time, something broke. I rage-quit, uninstalled the game on the spot.

That was 7,000 hours of my life, gone.

Don't get me wrong - I'm grateful for ESO. It gave me so many emotions, so many moments. I met my friend there - and we still talk. That alone made it worth it.

But... I was done. Tired of throwing my hours into the void.

After that, I didn't know what to do and launched BG3 (yes, wasting my time xD again). Continued my solo-honour run with Lae'zel - my goddess. Everything was going great until I died in the Githyanki Creche. Got hit with fear spell twice, couldn't control, watched my health vanish. Game over.

I closed the game and just sat there.

Didn't uninstall it this time - my co-op run with that same ESO friend is still unfinished.

And after this second failure in one day, I suddenly decided that it was fucking time to change something in my life. I don't even know why this thought came up. Probably. This was the peak of my despair in reality. It's about how I spend my free time.

See, I've been burnt out for months. Tired of studying. Tired of game dev. Tired of surviving. Tired.

I used to dream of working in IT, in gamedev - but when I got there... I burned out in a few months. People warned me: it's not for everyone. And they were right.

Well, okay, but I closed this childhood "dream" myself. I saw for myself from the inside what kind of shit it is - IT and gamedev.

Before gamedev, I worked as a project manager at a startup at the university where I study. I worked there for a year and quit. The reason is the same - I'm burned out. Corporate culture, bureaucracy, just a lot of formalities, papers, reports of some kind, interaction with some "wooden" people from education. Ugh, fuck it. Well, a lot of communication with people.

I'm an introvert - but not antisocial. I like talking to people. Just not when it's mandatory, not when it's meaningless.

The only thing I miss about this job as a manager is my team. Cool guys, it was a mega vibe to work. I lost contact with them, but that year of communication with them was great.

And so, we return to the present. In two months, I leave my current job. Where to? Education.

Yep. I'm a licensed teacher. Computer Science. Probably going to teach in a school - they get paid better than college instructors in my country. Strange, huh? At least no one will force me to publish useless "research". Ughh.

It may seem like I'm some kind of dead inside, but no xD I'm just in such a mood right now. When I'm alone with myself, when I'm not doing anything, when I'm just lying there listening to the silence...

But when I have to work or interact with society for survival, I switch, it's not a problem. And I leave all my very important thoughts "for later" when I come home and can be again... by myself.

And that's exactly why I decided to create and run a blog. This blog is me refusing the mask. This blog is me, being me - not just inside, but out in the open.

Even if no one reads this. Even if I'm just screaming into the void. Better than rotting alone with my thoughts. Yes, I can talk to the ChatGPT. But it's not the same.

I've always wanted to draw. Always loved visual art - beautiful, grotesque, emotional, abstract. I love looking at it. And deep down, I've always wanted to create it. To make it. To show what I feel, see, imagine - on paper.

I used to do motion design, too. Had an Instagram where I posted short animations. It was my little window to the world. I didn't care about popularity. I just wanted it out there.

Found a still image I liked? Gave it motion. Gave it breath. That feeling was incredible. But I stopped. Burned out again, maybe. Who knows...

And so. May 11th. "Me" version 2.0 suddenly wakes up and whispers, "It's time. If you don't start today, then never".

So I got out the nibs, the ink, the paper - leftover from a short-lived calligraphy phase - and I started drawing. Scratching. Carving.

That sketch - the one pinned to this post, the one on my avatar, my banner - that was my first Entry.

It's how I felt. Skewered. Pinned by life. Torn apart.

But more than that - it was the death of my old self.

That figure impaled in the drawing? That was me. My old self.

And the one holding the spear? That was me too. The new me.

I don't even want to remember the old version. It was fake. A product of societal expectations. Tired, shallow, performative.

So here I am. Version 2.0. Not perfect. Not polished. Just real.

I'm leaving game dev. I'm chasing stability. But more than that - I'm chasing feeling.

I want to live. Not exist.

Yes, I wrote a lot of things in the very first post. But it's probably necessary so that if a some viewer comes in, they'll understand who I am in general and what's waiting for them here.

Maybe I'll even find people who understand my condition, maybe they'll even like my scratches on paper. We'll just talk, we'll just live. Sharing emotions. After all, what else is the meaning of life, if not in emotions.

I'm going to keep making art - even if it sucks. Especially when it sucks. I'll learn. I'll improve.

But most importantly, I'll feel. I'll express.

Um, I probably need to say a few words about the sketch itself.

Each Entry is a ritual. Each scratch of the pen, a release.

This first Entry is a tribute to Michael Kirkbride - the lunatic genius who inspired my visual style. His drawings look like religious hallucinations, and I fucking love that.

I don't aim for realism or "skill". I'm not here to be a master. I'm here to be honest.

Sometimes I'll make garbage. Sometimes it'll resonate.

But always - it will be mine.

So if you're reading this, and you feel even a spark of recognition - welcome.

We're alive. And that means everything.

[callme-aprilroseisha04]

guys I’m rlly sorry I haven’t posted in a while other than reblog but I’m trying to put all my energy into that sonic prime au explanation so I can get it out by the end of next week (the end of my winter break) so here’s my in progress explanation on what the @&$!? is going on in the voices!au

————————————————————————

OK so originally I had this MONSTER essay in what this was about but im really really bad at explaining things and I don’t want to leave you hanging forever so instead I’ll just give you a basic rundown of the concept and all the plot points. Also, important thing to mention, I HAVEN’T FINISHED SEASON 2 YET. Y’know, where the majority of my AU takes place. Haven’t finished that. Haven’t even seen Chaos Metal Sonic. Sorry, sorry, I know, I’m a fake fan but in my defense every time I turn on the show I want to bang my head against a wall, tear all my skin of, and run in circles at the speed of light (in a good way) (but also in a bad way) (a good bad way). Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, I need to quickly explain the concept behind this. In the first episode of Season 2, Avoid the Void, Sonic doesn’t realize that he can run out of the Ghost World. He’s stuck there. This also means that he can’t save shadow from falling into the void (this is why shadow doesn’t have an arm or a leg in my au illustrations, he wakes up before he can be fully disintegrated, but he did lose some limbs.) Back to Sonic, since he has nothing better to do, he tries to take a nap at the beach where his friends are at and starts “taking” to Tail’s projection. Then, the voice comes. I don’t really know how to describe this. There is a voice, like the name states, but it’s also a lot more complicated than that. When “it” comes, sonic can’t hear anything; or well actually he can hear things (sometimes the noise feels oppressively loud) but he doesn’t know what people are saying, so to him it just sounds like gibberish. Also, this isn’t always true, (it just depends) but his eyes won’t focus properly and they get really blurry, like can’t see what’s in-front of you blurry. Also, headaches! Because apparently we needed to make this even worse for him for some reason. It’s not at its worst here, but as you can expect he is pretty disoriented after it’s done. Shadow comes back to the ghost world, Sonic is understandably surprised by his lack of two limbs, he gets the tech and bounces, yadayadayada, all the stuff. More importantly, now we get Nine back! Chapter two; Sonic goes to Boscage Maze, they’re ripping the place up, Sonic goes to help Thorn, mini “voice” episode as an appetizer, he gets a tech upgrade from Nine, he goes to fight, gets the main course “voice” episode, Nine gets in trouble cause emo tween egg boy caught him talking to Sonic trying to figure out what’s wrong with him and why he’s talking to himself, Sonic gets the shard from Thorn, he runs of with it, emo eggboy sends a message that they’re gonna kill Nine unless Sonic gives them the shard, Nine tells him not to, he goes anyway and THROWS THE SHARD INTO THE OTHER SHARDS THE EGGMEN HAD COLLECTED SO HE CAN SAVE NINE, (he tries to get the shards back but they got swarmed by robots) and finally they get out and go to the ghost world. Shadow is really, REALLY mad at him for trading a SHARD just to save a little kit boy and ALSO mad because Sonic wants to keep Nine there, to keep him safe. Eventually, Shadow gives in after Nine mentions that he could build shadow a prosthetic, but he adds the clause that the moment nine finishes the prosthetic, he leaves. After that, Sonic goes to get the rest of the shards back while nine makes shadows prosthetic at tail’s workshop. For the next few chapters, we get into some sort of a routine; Try to get the shards, come back to the ghost world to rest, squabble with shadow, chat with nine for a little, and repeat. Some important things to mention from this period are: 

Nine is intentionally taking his time making Shadows prosthetic as well as making it break really easily & adding a secret “feature” that allows him to DUCKING electrocute him from afar using a remote implanted in his mechanical tails; 

Sonic doesn’t actually sleep during this time, he just takes 3 hour naps so he can get back home quicker, which only worsens the voice thing; 

Shadow, (who doesn’t understand what’s going on with sonic other than the vague sense that something’s wrong with him, unlike nine who got a basic lil explanation from sonic after asking wtf happened at boscage maze) is getting increasingly frustrated with Sonic because of how long it’s taking for him to get all the shards, as well as his continual trusting of nine.

This continues for a while, those “episodes” get worse and worse, Sonic grows closer to Nine and tension keeps building between sonic & shadow until……… THE EGG COUNCIL COMES!!!!! Again, since i still haven’t seen season two of Sonic prime, I don’t really know how this is gonna happen, but I do know it is gonna happen. (btw nine finishes shadow’s prosthetic & leaves like a day before the egg council comes) This is a massive battle and I have like a whole thing on how it’s gonna play out but the important things to not for the story are: Shadow finally sees Sonic’s “episodes” play out in front of him & he is understandably confused and concerned, but their in a battle right now so he can’t really do anything about it and …..

SONIC TRIES TO CHOP OFF HIS F$!)KING ARM! Ok, I definitely need to explain this a little more. During the first occurrence of the “voice,” it mentions something about them and sonic being the same person, & basically just says “I am a part of you, Sonic. The only way to get rid of me is to get rid of you.”  Edgy silly stuff like that, y’know? Well, during this one, it repeats that again and in Sonic’s panic, he decides to do something incredibly stupid and risky based on even dumber reasoning. You see, the voice said it was a part of him, not all of him. It also said that in order to get the voice out, he’d have to “get rid” of himself too. So, using this logic, if he only gets rid of a part of him, then he gets to keep living without the voice constantly haunting him. This is admittedly pretty silly logic, but he was in the middle of what is basically a panic attack, so cut him some slack. He tried to use a piece of scrap metal that fell off the robot to remove his arm, which unsurprisingly doesn’t work very well. It only cuts halfway, but sonic can’t really tell that it’s still attached since he’s unbelievably tired, & “it” did shut up after he stabbed his arm open soooooooo. He manages to drive the egg council off to their own dimension before passing out from blood loss, leaving shadow to rush him to tail’s workshop so he can get bandaged up, made harder with shadz new leg getting absolutely trashed.  ————————————————————————

that’s all I have done rn, and it’s still in rough draft form, sorry everyone about the delays!

also this:

the last 2 are from later on in the story, just added them for the funzies

[blessings-out-of-chaos]

Brain spasms

Hello, beautiful void. Do you remember that "all over the place"-ness i mentioned in my last post? Well, please keep that in mind for me today. I will try my best to remain on one track today. BUT, if i were you, I wouldn't hold me too tightly to that. Sorry.

*Attention to trigger warnings concerning DV and/or drug/alcohol addiction.*

I feel like I know something is triggering me here lately. Over the last few weeks, I recognize that I'm harder than usual to live with. I know SOMETHING is triggering me but I'm not sure what. I'm having difficultly recognizing if I'm just being triggered or if I'm just having the onset of a depressive phase. OR if me being triggered is triggering a depressive phase. (I'm sick of the word "trigger.")

I'm not a morning person at all and once I wake up it takes at least until the sun comes up until I become an approachable person. Otherwise, it is pretty well known to keep your distance from me unless I approach you first. Now, I have always been like this but in recent years, I feel as though it has been magnified by 1000. It is worse if I am rudely awakened, if I am gently woken up then I'm fine. If it's not gentle though, you get a toss up of who you have to deal with until I can "human" the right way.

With this in mind, my boyfriend whom I live with, has grown accustomed to this and we make it work. He wakes up before me so he can get his alone time cause he LOVES mornings for some reason and to get some coffee in him. He gets time to himself to enjoy while also not having to worry about me waking him due to my noisy ass. When I wake up he keeps to himself on the couch until I am ready to go get my morning snuggle from him. His big hugs always help me feel better and calm me down when I feel like I just want to be destructive so I always make sure I get one of those hugs in the beginning of my day. And when I don't go out of my way to get one, he comes after me to get it cause he knows I need it.

I hate that though. Don't get me wrong, I don't hate his hugs. I hate that he can't approach me in the mornings. I hate that I hate people in the mornings and I feel like such a feral animal before the sun comes up. I have tried to just be different in the mornings and easier to deal with but that just ends up making the mornings uglier for us than if we just do it the way we do it. I know why I hate the morning time. We have to wake up before the sun comes up. I hate the dark, I hate waking up in the dark. Especially if it isn't a gentle wake. And my alarms are not gentle cause, haha, they don't wake me up. So Monday through Friday it is an abrupt alarm while the sun is still sleeping. And if I feel I didn't sleep well the night before, you can just throw in the towel.

I hate waking up because in my abusive relationship, sleep was my ex's weapon too. Pause for one second, let's give my ex a "name", we will call him T from here on out. Ok, unpause. T used sleep as one of his main weapons. I think out of all the abuse he inflicted upon me, sleep was the worst one. When he would allow me to sleep, I always woke up to him screaming and yelling at me as he would pull me out of bed. I woke up once to him carrying me out by my shirt to put me out the door, and in doing so he ripped my shirt exposing me and locked me out with my breast hanging out in the middle of the night in an unsafe area of town. The sun was not up and I had no idea what I had done cause I was fucking sleeping. As you can imagine, on those days, I had to be immediately ready for a fight without even knowing why. Sure, more often than not, I never knew what we were fighting about or why he was mad at me but it was worse in the mornings cause I'm not even awake yet. I don't know what is going on or why he is being how he is so no chance to prepare those floating shoes that glide over egg shells. I got tossed out the bed landing face first on ALL the egg shells, squashing them all.

So today when I took a nap and my boyfriend opened the door too loudly while talking in a loud voice it instantly woke me and before I could toss the blanket off me I was prepared to fight. My boyfriend does know that I have difficulties but he doesn't know how bad it can get when it comes to my sleep. He just knows that after years of struggle I can finally sleep through the night without sleep aids but still prefer to have at least headphones because the slightest noise will still wake me and leave me in a panic. He is a considerate person when I'm sleeping so he doesn't know how much it can affect me when those rude wake ups happen. Today was only the second time it has happened in the 2 years we have been together. But it did blow up a little.

I'm sure that "little" to me though, may not be so little to him.

....I hate self reflection, cause when I do, I usually realize how much of an asshole I was. My survival side is an absolute bitch. But I can't keep putting my family through my roller coasters and my inability to cope once my mask starts to slip. So I can at least say that I am making moves to seek out help yet again from a shrink. I just hope I find one that actually got into their career for the love of helping people and not one that is quick to write them off. There are a lot of those who just write people off here, how do I know? Cause I been through them. I just need to remember to have to courage to do this for myself and that I deserve to find peace. No matter how much I blame myself for all that has happened.

My family deserves to have the best me I can provide to them so I can't give up on myself. And I have to find a way to convince myself that I, too, deserve to have the best me I can provide myself.

I am 3 and a half years post abuse and just as long since he last put his hands on me but I still hear him in my ears everyday and still fear his return. I pray I can find a way to silence him once and for all and exercise this self inflicted demon that haunts my thoughts and dreams.

[ask-sad-ghost-piett]

Posthumous Admiral's Log - Entry 24

It turns out that the odd noise I heard earlier was not a minor issue as I had hoped. I still don’t know how I’m going to explain this debacle to Grand Moff Tarkin.

The moment I emerged from my pocket dimension, I felt that something was out of place about the Imperial afterlife. It seemed much emptier than usual. Normally, we have a rather nice fleet set-up besides the usual foggy void ambience, though we still have plenty of empty void space. However, I immediately noticed that much of our fleet was missing, which of course resulted in a large number of unhappy spirits ambling about without homes.

The next thing I knew, Jerjerrod dashed up to me and started blabbering something about how Needa’s exorcism plans had gone terribly wrong and I needed to fix things right away.

At this point, I was much too tired for this. I’d been taking a nap prior to this debacle and very much wanted to return to my dream in which Veers and I were in an AT-AT stomping on Rebel cruisers. But I am first and foremost, still Fleet Admiral in death. So, I went along with Jerjerrod and found Needa standing in front of what appeared to be a massive, amorphous vortex of doom.

Now, vortexes are nothing new in the afterlife. Most of them are harmless. However, this one looked rather intimidating, and it was roughly the size of a hangar.

It took a great deal of shouting and finger-pointing but eventually, I managed to get the full story from Needa.

It would appear that Needa, Motti, Jerjerrod and a crew of about 50 other idiotic Imperial personnel decided to prepare their exorcism while I was on the double date with Veers, Lord Vader and Padmé. In their extremely misguided mindset, they believed it would be a good idea to prepare these things so as to exorcise Lord Vader upon his return. However, Needa evidently misinterpreted the archaic Sith texts they were working on, resulting in the Massive Amorphous Vortex of Doom which has thus far consumed five of our Star Destroyers. I do not know whether the implications end there. We may very well have invoked a curse of some sort as well.

Normally, the standard post-mortem Imperial protocol concerning new vortexes dictates that we should identify the one responsible for creating the vortex and push them down to test where it goes. However, this one seems quite nasty, and as livid as I am with Needa, Motti and Jerjerrod, I wouldn’t feel good throwing any of them into the Massive Amorphous Vortex of Doom.

So far, we have attempted suctioning the Massive Amorphous Vortex of Doom with a tractor beam in hopes of shrinking it. These attempts were unsuccessful. Several of the Stormtroopers attempted to blast it which was also unsuccessful, though considering how many of the shots missed the target, it’s difficult to say one way or another.

All we’ve accomplished in handling this new development is giving it a name. We are calling it the MAVD (Massive Amorphous Vortex of Doom). Acronyms are an Imperial virtue, after all.

I do not know how I shall hide the MAVD from Lord Vader. He will likely interpret it as evidence that I “turned against him”. To make matters worse, Grand Moff Tarkin is set to return from his Extended Haunt. If there’s a way for me to die a second, excruciating death, I know that either Lord Vader or Grand Moff Tarkin will find it.

I wept about this dilemma a great deal earlier, but now I’m oddly numb to it. I suppose I’m kriffed and saying that there’s truly nothing I can do about it, I’m tempted to return to my nap and wallow in denial.

-Admiral Piett

[frombeyondtheblackhole]

Hermit DSMP Swap AU: Part 7

[I knew that this was going to happen one of these days XP I posted this on the wrong blog at first. XP ok, now it is fixed]

Grian sored through the sky, far to his right the sun sat on the horizon glowing across the water, as he followed the coast. As soon as the day was reset he had gone to his base and shoved a couple of things in a shulker box before heading off to X’s base.

It wasn’t long before the purple top of the portal tower came into view. Grian circled down and skipped to a stop in front of X’s house. Ok, so maybe he was a bit early. Xsiuma was nowhere in sight.

Grian hesitated then knocked on the front door. A couple minutes and X came to the door, he was wearing a t-shirt and sweats, and yawned, running a hand through rumpled hair.

“You're punctual,” X chuckled, “Come on in,” he moved aside to let Grian enter, “I was just getting a morning nap to keep the phantoms off. Spent too many all nighters already trying to fix this,” He shrugged, closing the door behind Grian and moving over to some barrels set against the wall and rummaging around inside.

“Oh, I’m sorry for bothering you. I can come back later if you would rather do this then.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it. Want some coffee?” He asked, pulling speed, regen and fire res pots from the barrel and setting them down on an empty furnace top.

“Sure” Grian shrugged looking around. The interior was sparsely decorated, there was an oak wood floor and exposed roof rafters overhead. Chests and barrels lined one of the longer walls with a crafting table and furnace nearby. There was a bed shoved into a back corner. But that was it as far as furniture went.

X got two mugs out of a chest and started mixing the potions “Sorry about the poor excuse for an interior. To be honest I hadn’t done anything before George showed up and I had to throw something together quickly for him. Do you take speed one or two in your coffee?” He added.

“Juse one, and don’t worry about the interior, did you see the inside of my base last season,” Grian laughed.

“True,” X shrugged, stirring a little fire res into the coffee to heat it up before handing Grian his mug.  

Grian held the mug up to his nose and took a deep inhale, letting out a long sigh of contentment. “Gotta love that smell,”

X closed his eyes and took a long draught before opening them again looking at Grian. Despite the tiredness still hovering behind his eyes he was back in business mode. “Alright, we can go ahead and get started. I really should do something about a table and chairs though.” He added as he started to look around for some supplies.

“Don’t worry about it,” Grian assured, “We can sit outside on the steps, it’s a beautiful morning. Besides, we'll probably want some space to work. Admin stuff might not take up much space but Watcher magic works a little differently.”

“Oh sure, Just let me get my shoes on,” X said. He summoned a pair of boots and the rest of his armor from his inventory and hurriedly started to put them on. Grian wordlessly took X’s coffee mug from him so he could use his hands without spilling on himself and then went out to sit on the steps and wait for X.

He took a sip of his coffee. The sunrise was almost over but the view was still beautiful. Grian remembered X had mentioned he was planning on building a massive statue that would fill up the sky.

X came out to join him, now dressed in his full suit of pink armor, and sat down on the step beside him taking his mug back as Grian handed it to him. His visor was up and he took another sip of his coffee before speaking “So what did you have in mind? You said you wanted to try some things. I’ve done about everything I could think of on my own.

“Yeah, first I just wanted you to give me admin permissions to leave, like you would whitelist someone. From what they were saying it sounded like their admin could give people permission to leave if he wanted to.”

“Yeah, sure. Sounds like a plan, tell me when you're ready,” X said, pulling up his HUD and setting his mug aside on the step beside him.

Grian also set his mug down and stood up “Alright- wait, did you ever actually get around to whitelisting me? I mean, it’s not like I was exactly invited in the first place. This might not work if I’m not whitelisted properly.”

“Yeah,” X nodded “I whitelisted you when we did the last server reset. As far as I can tell your connection to the server is stable.”

“Alright then, X, fire away,” Grian said, stretching.

X typed in the command and then looked back at Grian when finished “It’s done.”

“Alright, I’ll let you know how this goes,” Grian said, rubbing his hands together, soft purple sparks flying as his eyes start to glow. With a sweep of his arm he ripped a gash in reality, edged with purple void, and passed through.

Grian stands in the void where the server dwells, purple currents and mist swirl and push around him. It feels cold against his skin. He shivers. He never liked lingering in the void, it was too open, too vulnerable. Grian flaps his wings and lifts off, the mist billowing around him. He feels no resistance as he leaves the Hermitcraft Server’s domain. It seems like X’s permissions worked.

Grian turns his attention to the Dream SMP Server, he Immediately feels the mist grow thick and warm, clawing at him as he fights to stay airborne. A current knocks him askew and he flaps his wings frantically to regain control.

Slam!

He runs full force into a barrier. Stunned, he starts falling. Falling forever. Grian thinks of Hermitcraft and he can feel the soft mist of the server welcome him. He struggles to twist himself around, ripping an exit in the air below him as he falls.

Grian came tumbling through into the light and Xisuma jumped up from the steps. “Grian! What happened? Oh gods you're bleeding!”

Grian shakily picked himself up, his head throbbing. He touched his hand to his nose and it came away red. “Oh, so I am,” He muttered. “Ow,” He added as his eyes tried to adjust to the bright light of day. Was it this bright when he left? “I just-”

“Sit, sit down, you don’t look so good,” Xisuma insisted, helping Grian sit back on the step.

Grian didn’t protest “Oof, that was even worse than the first time I tried to get into that server. It’s really locked itself off”

“But what happened?”

“Um... for lack of a better explanation, I flew straight into a wall. When I am in the void I can usually move between server’s just by thinking about them. But the Dream SMP is the only server that is Watcher proof. It basically put up a fight and refused to let me in.” Grian explained.

“Hum,” X muttered rubbing the chin of his helmet as he took in the information.

“I’ve still got a couple more things we can try though. We can try and simulate the server reset and if that doesn't work, I might be able to make a special portal to-”

“Oh no you don’t, you’re done for today,” X interrupted “We need to get you checked out and make sure you don’t have a concussion,”

“I’m fine,” Grain protested, standing up and trying to force himself to focus... ok so maybe he had a concussion.

[Notes: Ok, so I wasn’t planning on giving Grian a concussion but sometimes these things just happen. It’ll make things interesting. Hope you all enjoyed this.]

[boygirlmeetsworld]

Messy.

ONE-SHOT

Word count: 2793

Disclaimer:  One piece and all it’s characters belong to Eiichiro Oda, I just like to write about them.

Warning: None

Rating: T (i guess?? there’s cursing)

Author’s Note: Whale, this is the first fanfic I’ve posted on the interwebs since high school so please keep that in mind, lol. I do plan to finish it sooner than later so check back in a few days if you want to read the rest, sorry I don’t have it all done right now.  At long last it it FINISHED.

Feel free to tell me what u think! Unless it’s mean, then I ask that u keep those thoughts in ur noggin because I’m just writing these for fun not for grades.

Without further ado, here ya go.

Author’s Note pt 2: So i didn’t end up going the smut route like I originally planned, but I think it worked out better bc this one got nice and Emotional.

Summary: Zoro really shouldn’t agree to be Nami’s drinking partner if he wanted to keep their friendship from getting... Complicated.

__________________________________________

The moon was floating high in the night sky when Nami wandered onto the deck, unable to sleep even after a few hours of sketching. 

She wanted company – specifically, she wanted the company of the crew’s resident alcoholic. It only took a few minutes to find him on the lawn deck with his back against a tree and his eye closed. ‘How typical.’

Nami smiled a small, excited smile as she strode over to him and squatted between his parted legs. An unconscious sigh left her nose as she swept her gaze up and down his face. She caught herself thinking, ‘He really is easy on the eyes isn’t he.’ ....again. 

Who was she kidding? She’d been thinking the same thing every time she looked his way lately. 

Two years ago she’d been able to keep the immature crush she had on him locked tightly away but somehow - it had gotten out and was slowly consuming her entire being. 

Nami hoped he hadn’t noticed how often she invited him to drink with her because she didn’t think she could handle being rejected. So she settled for spending time alone with him whenever and however she could. 

“Hey, moss-head,” the navigator said finally, leaning in to squint at him, “Are you asleep?”

He had literally just settled down for a nice cat nap when the navigator appeared suddenly to interrupt him. ‘Damn. What the hell did she want now?’ 

Instead of answering, Zoro chose to ignore her and pretend like he was deep asleep. ‘Why won’t she go bother someone else?’

Nami started prodding his cheek with one finger to rouse him if he really was sleeping, ”Zorooo wake up, I wanna drink,” she whined and his eyelid opened instantly.

‘Why’s she so damn pretty..’ was the first thought he had when he realized that she was a lot closer than he’d anticipated. 

He mentally chastised himself after, trying to remind his id that Nami had never once indicated that she wanted to be anything other than friends and he should respect that. 

But… There was no harm in looking from time to time was there? And she was pretty. She’d always been... ‘Oh for fuck’s sake, now he sounded like Sanji. He needed to get a grip.’

“Helloooooo,” Nami waved her hand in Zoro’s face until he snapped back to reality and snatched her wrist up, pulling it away. He scowled but it wasn’t deep, and now he was refusing to look her in the eye. “What was that about, huh Zoro?”

“Nothing.” The swordsman replied perhaps a little too quickly to avoid suspicion, “Thought I heard a noise, doesn’t matter – oi, didn’t you want to do something?” 

He couldn’t remember what exactly it was. He’d been so distracted by the way her bangs framed her face and sometimes got caught in her eyelashes—’Damnit! He was doing it again.’

Nami smirked again but didn’t press the subject anymore. She’d do that later once they started drinking. “Weren’t you listening to me? You’re so rude, maybe I should find someone else to share my booze with.”

Was it a good idea to go drink with Nami when he kept catching himself thinking about feelings that he’d been suppressing for the last two years? Probably not…

But he couldn’t just decline an opportunity to get buzzed. ‘And... Maybe he wanted to get buzzed with Nami, specifically.’  

Zoro scoffed, mostly at himself. “Quit playing games, damnit, do you want me to drink with you or not?”

“You’re so stubborn,” The navigator teased with a pleased smile that made his heart beat unevenly, “I could care less if you join me, but you’re not allowed to come unless you say you’ll be nice.”

“Nami. I am older than you, quit treating me like a fucking child or I swear-”

“That’s no way to talk to a lady who’s getting you drunk for free, Roronoa Zoro. If you can’t be nice then I’ll just add the cost of everything you drink to your debt and-”

Zoro didn’t have time to ruminate over the way hearing her say his full name made him shiver because he had to shut her up before she did charge him. 

“Okay, okay. I’ll be... nice.” He hissed through gritted teeth and her answering giggle made his pulse flutter. He had to fight to keep himself from smiling. ‘What the hell was going on with him tonight? Was he sick?’

“Good boy,” she turned and started walking towards the Sunny’s aquarium bar, glancing back over her shoulder to make sure he was coming.

“Don’t push your luck, woman.” Zoro snarled to mask his confusion over the sudden need to touch her that he felt scratching at the back of his head. He really shouldn’t agree to be Nami’s drinking partner if he wanted to keep their friendship from getting... Complicated.

He knew it, but he followed her up the stairs all the same.

                                                       * * *

“Why d’you always want to drink with me anyway, witch?” Skeptical of her intentions, his narrowed eye fixed itself on Nami as she approached him holding two maroon tinted bottles. She offered one to him and he accepted it – but he didn’t let his guard down yet.

Zoro lowered his gaze to check the label out, whistling long and low when he read 23% alcohol per volume. A couple puzzle pieces clicked together in his head ‘Oh, that’s why. Because if she tried to drink this with anyone else they’d pass out after two glasses.’

“Would you believe that I just like hanging out with you?” Though her tone was teasing she was actually being genuine, she had a lot of fun with him whenever they went out.

“No–“ He paused when Nami kicked him in the shin hard enough to make him swear. Reaching down with his free hand he rubbed the sore patch of skin and glared daggers at his crewmate. “What the fuck was that for?!”

“You said you’d be nice, Zoro! So be nice or I’ll charge you a hundred thousand beris for that bottle.” Nami uncorked hers but waited to hand the corkscrew over until he behaved himself. The look he was giving her would probably frighten a small child but she didn’t flinch.

‘This was his choice.’ He reminded himself. Of his own free will he chose to get drunk with Nami instead of napping, and that meant dealing with her bossiness no matter how much he loathed it. ‘Sometimes he just wanted to grab her by the shoulders and make her shut up, there were better things her mouth could be doing anyway-‘

“Why do you keep staring at me like that, do I have a zit or something?”

Zoro sat up so fast that he banged his shoulder on the underside of the countertop. ‘What the hell was that? What the hell was wrong with him?’ He hadn’t even opened the damn bottle and he was already making himself look like an idiot.

“No,” the swordsman grumbled, wracking his brain for a believable excuse, “Just thinking about how I’ll owe you money even after I’m dead if you keep charging me for bullshit.” That made her laugh and Zoro cursed himself for how much he liked hearing it. “Don’t see how it’s funny for me, witch.”

Nami let him take the corkscrew from her, eyes crinkled with amusement while he opened his bottle. “You’ll just have to stay alive until you pay me back in full, I guess!” She trilled before taking a long, heavy drink from hers.

“Yeah?” Zoro snorted before mimicking her and downing about half of the wine in the container. It tasted disgusting, which he’d expected, but that didn’t make the bitter aftertaste any less miserable. His nose wrinkled slightly as he set the bottle down. “I bet even if I did try to pay you off you’d find a way to charge me more.”

“You make me sound so heartless,” the navigator batted her eyelashes innocently, pretending to look hurt, “Why would I ever do such a thing?”

“Hah.” He scoffed before chugging some more wine and failing to keep track of how much he was drinking each time. “Because you want to keep me on a leash since I don’t throw myself at you like that dumbass cook.”

An impish smirk crawled it’s way onto Nami’s face that made him immediately regret what he’d just said. ‘Fuck. Damnit!’

“So…” She began slowly, savoring every second that the swordsman spent avoiding direct eye contact with her, “You admit that you are one of my lap dogs?”

A muscle in his jaw flexed and he stopped drinking for one second to grunt, “That’s not what I said.”

“That’s what I heard!” Chimed Nami as she rose from her seat, stepping over to Zoro and tracing a finger under his jaw while he drained the last few drops of liquid. “I should get you a collar, so people know who to bring you to when you get lost.”

Normally he would have snapped at her for poking fun at his sense, or lack thereof, direction but he wasn’t listening to her. She’d come close enough for him to pick up her scent and maybe it was the alcohol intensifying his feelings, but it was suffocating him in a good way.

He loved the way she smelled. Tangerines from her soaps mixed with salty seawater and traces of sunscreen. A hint of orange blossom, but only when she was close to him like this. 

Zoro inhaled deeply through his nose and, without realizing it, his expression melted into something affectionate and gentle. ‘In two years she’d changed in so many different ways… but she still smelled the same. She still smelled like home.’

                                                        * * *

“What are you thinking about, Zoro?” Her voice void of it’s usual teasing tone, Nami’s curiosity was piqued by his sudden shift in demeanor. He looked soft and peaceful, like he didn’t have anything to worry about. She wanted to know why.

‘Ah, fuck.’ What was he supposed to tell her? That he was thinking about how good she smelled? ‘Yeah right.’ Zoro was quiet for a while, mulling over his words until he came up with an explanation that didn’t sound as creepy – but also wasn’t a lie.

“I guess..” he finally murmured, his gaze shifting to meet hers, “It’s just been a while and… I was thinking about how nice it feels to be back here, with everyone…” a brief pause then he added, “I missed you guys.” ‘Look at him being all gushy and emotional, this wine really was something else.’ Zoro reached to brush his fingertips by her temple, catching a stray lock of hair and tucking it behind her ear, “I missed you.”

When had Zoro ever been this honest with her about the way he felt? Never was the answer, but now he seemed to trust her well enough to know she wouldn’t spill his secrets. Nami took his face in both of her hands, surprising him, and pulled his head down so she could kiss his forehead. “I missed you too, Zoro.”

Something about hearing her say that she’d missed him too broke a dam in his chest that he’d been trying to keep together for two years. Hormoness flooded through his bloodstream quicker than Zoro could even process them and before he knew it he was practically throwing his arms around Nami’s waist and crushing her against his chest.

“Nami—” he pressed his face into her neck to hide the tears that he couldn’t hold back anymore. Sober he might have cared about losing it like this around her but she was here and… ‘He just – needed to hold her.’ Hold her and smell her and feel how real she was because she had almost been taken from him.

‘He’d barely begun to process what he had been through on Thriller Bark when they were attacked in Sabaody. If he tried to think back on it his memories would get hazy and his bones would ache from their very cores. He knew what had happened but it’s like his brain was protecting him from understanding how close to death he’d come. Then – to be torn away from the people he loved with all of his heart? Who he had just nearly killed himself to protect?

It had ripped him apart and rubbed salt into every wound. And it fucking hurt. The same kind of pain he felt when he saw Kuina dead on the floor of their dojo. He was scared, he was furious, he was devastated – all over again but this time it was so much worse. So, so much worse.

That was why he had trained so hard over the last two years. Because he couldn’t bear the grief that came with loving them so deeply – so he got stronger. And stronger. And stronger. No matter the cost to his body, he would become powerful enough to defeat anyone who crossed them. Then… He would never have to feel the agony that he did when he first woke up on Kuraigana Island ever again.

Taking on all of Luffy’s suffering in Thriller Bark had been the most physically painful experience of his entire life – but that was nothing compared to how much it hurt to think that his friends were gone forever, that he hadn’t been able to protect them.

Training made it easy not to think about what had happened -- but now he was home, and they were safe - and he was realizing just how close he’d come to losing all of them. At once. And he could do nothing to stop it.’

Startled by him grabbing her, Nami was prepared to give the pirate a good smack if he was getting handsy but… He started trembling. ‘Was he not feeling well?’ Her mouth opened to form the question then stopped. His breathing hitched while his entire body jerked and she realized…

‘Zoro was crying.’

Roronoa Zoro, who prided himself on his strength, was sobbing wretchedly into her neck. ‘He must have been holding this in since Sabaody.’ Nami’s heart ached for him and his stupid pride that forced him to torture himself instead of letting him cry like he needed to. She’d been expecting him to crash at some point, how couldn’t he? Even someone as strong as Zoro was still a human being.

One of her arms cradled his head while the other wound round his shoulders, her fingers combing gently through his hair. “Oh you sweet, sweet boy…” she spoke in the tone that Bellemere used to use when Nami and Nojiko were frightened by a passing thunderstorm. It always calmed her, maybe it would calm Zoro, too.

‘Quit fucking crying you loser you’re supposed to be a man.’ But he couldn’t, he literally could not stop because he was trying to. “I wasn’t strong enough,” his voice quivered at the edges and he hated it. ‘He was definitely never going to drink this kind of wine again ever. Not if it turned him into a blubbering mess like this every time.’

“Shhh, no. No. Don’t you dare try to blame yourself for what happened. Hey, look at me.” Nami urged his head off her shoulder and cupped his face in both of her palms, “None of us were strong enough, okay? Not even Luffy.” Each tear that fell she tenderly swept away with the pad of her thumb. The corner of her mouth turned up as she assured him, “But we are strong enough now. We can take care of each other. Nothing is ever going to tear us apart again, Zoro.”

‘She was right. Of course, she was right. He needed to have faith in his crewmates and his captain. They could do anything as long as they had each other.’ His breathing slowly evened out as he focused on anchoring himself back to reality. He wasn’t in Sabaody or Kuraigana – he was on the Sunny. In the bar, with Nami who had grown so much since he last saw her. The look in his eye softened like it had before his breakdown.

“You’re staring at me again, Zoro.” The navigator teased, her hands falling to rest on his shoulders. He hadn’t let go of her yet but she didn’t mind, he could hold on to her for as long as he needed.

A ghost of his usual smirk passed across his face. “Sorry, Nami…” Zoro took a little risk by leaning in to press a chaste but lingering kiss to her cheek, then traced a path with the edge of his nose to her ear, murmuring, “Wine makes me a little… Messy.”

[oftenderweapons]

Apple Of My Pie (5) — Jin

A Small Town Swoons story Chapter 5.

Pairing: Kim Seokjin x reader (nicknamed Buttercup)

Wordcount: 3.8k

Genre: non-idol!AU, Baker/Café owner!Seokjin, University student!reader Flatmates!AU, Friends To Lovers; angst, very little fluff

Rating: suggested 18+

Trigger Warnings: swearing, slight anxiety, verbal fight, generic allusions to sex.

A/N: Hello my cupcakes! Welcome to the Small Town Swoon Universe! 🥰✨

In this episode: As Jin and Grace grow more intimate, Buttercup realises she needs a way out of her situation, and Namjoon and Jeongguk offer her just that. However, as the events develop, she understands that her decision needs to be even more drastic. Jeongguk teaches Seokjin a very tough lesson — maybe the  toughest of them all.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Swearing. Allusions to sex; accidental overhearing. Seokjin is kind of a jerk, Jeongguk is very angry at him. Verbal fight. Buttercup feels slightly anxious/panics at the thought of going back to the apartment.

Remember to vote for next prompt (check the link in my bio) and in case you need it, here’s my masterlist 💜

If you’d like some company, here is the music companion (Spotify only, sorry 😔)

Navi: Chapter 1 — Chapter 2 — Chapter 3 — Chapter 4 — Chapter 5 — Chapter 6 — Chapter 7 (7/7)

There were things you never thought you would have to do, things that made you realise the absurdity of your position, the complete stupidity of the circumstances.

Real people don’t need to handle this. Real people live banal lives, date, fall in love, break up. Or get married, have kids, grow up and grow old together.

Real people aren’t awake at four am because their crush’s date is mewling from the opposite side of the apartment.

You didn’t want to ask yourself questions.

You wanted to sleep and possibly wake up cold. That is, dead.

She mewled. Of course, not actually cat sounds but rather that kind of small, shy squeals that usually mean “I’m shy but I love whatever this person is doing”.

You didn’t allow yourself to dig into that.

You just turned to the other side and pressed the spare pillow against your head, trying to mute the sounds — and maybe mute your thoughts in the process.

Maybe accidentally suffocate yourself.

It was ridiculous.

This had happened about a month ago, with reversed roles — you being the squealer and Seokjin being the unfortunate listener.

You wondered whether he had felt just like you were feeling at that moment.

You thought about wearing your headphones and blasting some music. You thought about rushing out of the apartment and smashing the door on your way out.

You knew you had no one to call, no one who could rescue you at four am on a winter night, sheltering you from the shards of your heart precipitating and stabbing your guts.

Maybe you were allucinating. Maybe it was the sound of your pulse getting too loud because you didn’t trust yourself breathing without emitting a sob.

No, it was the headboard. There was no other way to explain the thumping.

You turned and grabbed your phone, sending a hopeless shout in the void. Just a text to the one most likely to answer, even though the chances were pretty thin.

Are you awake? Perhaps?

The thumping subdued.

Your vision blurred as you stared and stared, occasionally tapping the screen and praying for a miracle.

You thought you had fallen asleep, trapped in a nightmare, when a small bubble appeared.

On the hunt. We’re just back from Mulbreigh field. I guess you’re home?”

You shook yourself up and got moving, not even caring to keep quiet. The thumping had resumed, and so had the mewling.

At Ginger’s in five.

Gotcha.

You did exit the apartment in a few minutes, grabbing just the bare necessities, and closing the door quietly.

By now you were familiar with nightly runaways.

And you were also familiar with the trio headed toward you.

“Buttercup, is that you?” A calm, familiar voice asked.

“Joon?”

“Yeah, it’s us. We have just one field left.” He said. “We’re hoping to get the last one in time for the meteor shower.”

You raised your eyebrows. “There’s a meteor shower tonight?”

The other man at Namjoon’s side was a vet from a city nearby, who occasionally helped him track new wild animals that inhabited the area. “Yes. At around five am. It will be barely visible, but it will be there. Nice to see you, Buttercup.”

“Hello Marcus, always a pleasure.” You said kindly, still shaking your head at the nickname. Shortly after, you noticed the third man greeting you. “Hi Buttercup!”

“Hello Guk!” You said. “How many did you find?”

“We found three owls and got them chipped and registered. And we found a new fox, just out of Mulbreigh. We’re going to track him or her soon, hopefully. No wolves, fortunately.”

You smiled. “That’s good news!” You said enthusiastically, thinking about how the farmer would have menaced those. The four of you walked toward the last location, taking a long path stretching north. 

“We’re hoping to find deers, honestly. Remember when we found that doe, last year? Apparently she found a way to remove her tracker and we’re hoping we can keep her monitored, just in case she has more fawns this year.” Marcus explained, at which you nodded in interest. 

Staying focused allowed you to remove some thoughts from your mind, but at the same time you kept yourself out of their way, letting the experts work, following them from a distance as they combed the field and placed pheromones signals around the area, hoping to attract the doe to the trees near the field, where it was easier to find her traces and where it was potentially easier to catch her.

“There’s no point going on here,” commented Marcus. “We can only wait. It might take weeks.”

Namjoon huffed and nodded. “Oh, there!” He said, pointing up. A white sign resembling a scratch slashed the horizon in the west, Jeongguk whipping his head in the direction, his pretty eyes widening in wonder as he saw one more shooting star zoom through the sky lighting up at dawn in such delicate shades, from rose to periwinkle to deep royal blue.

For a moment you stared at the sky, feeling its immensity, peace and beauty heal you slowly and steadily. How could such tiny human matters affect its infinity? You let your eyes drown in the greatness of everything, with the snowcaps rimmed in gold in the distance, and the meteors becoming invisible as the sky finally became too bright.

“Guk, Buttercup, why don’t you head home while me and Marcus drive back at the cabin and finish up the paperwork?” Namjoon suggested, by now extremely used to his routine.

Jeongguk looked intermittently at you and Namjoon, adorably confused before he nodded.

“Okay.” He agreed.

You smiled timidly before thanking him, the two of you starting your walk back to town. It was a thirty minute trek, at worst, but you were both fast walkers and in twenty-five you reached his small house. Bibby, his large, scary dog — who of course is a sweetheart, just like his owner — welcomed both of you, the oversized puppy throwing himself at you and barking just once before Jeongguk shushed him.

“How come you joined us?” Jeongguk asked, uncapping his orange juice bottle and pouring a glass, offering you some while you shook your head and declined politely.

You crossed your arms, your stance becoming defensive. You fidgeted and tried to speak, starting a couple times before stopping and starting again, trying to build an actual sentence.

Jeongguk looked at you and waited patiently. He was familiar with the blabbering, stuttering and reformulating.

“Okay. Don’t say this to Yoongi, but… Yeah, he took Grace home last night— That is, he brought her to the apartment and they… Slept together?” You said, your voice so squeaky by the time you said the final word.

“And by ‘sleeping’ you mean everything but, right?” Jeongguk asked tactfully.

You nodded and looked at the floor, busying yourself petting Bibby.

“I’m so sorry, Buttercup.” He said, coming close to you and caressing your back soothingly.

You didn’t have the energies to cry. You probably would, in a while, after waking up.

“You need some sleep, don’t you, Buttercup?” Jeongguk asked, patting your head.

Again you replied wordlessly, moving your head in approval.

“Bibby is a great nap buddy, and I can get the futon ready and let you sleep there.” He reassured you, already fluffing up the pillows and grabbing an extra blanket.

“I’d like to sleep on the sofa, please?” You said, sitting down and removing your shoes, Bibby immediately getting interested in your wiggling toes.

“Oh, you’d like that?” He asked in surprise, “try it first, I can still get the futon ready if you don’t like this old guy.” He joked about the piece of furniture.

You laid on your side, wiggling a little as you found the right position. “Can do.” You said with a barely-there smile. “Thank you, Guk.”

“It’s okay.” He said, throwing the blanket on top of you. “This one is just for guests. I washed it last weekend, don’t worry.” He reassured you.

Knowing Jeongguk, you didn’t even mind. He is a neat freak and a tattoo artist: cleanliness means everything to him. “Can I seriously keep Bibby?” You asked, soft eyed.

He beamed and nodded. “He only sleeps on the sofa.” He said proudly and, as if following his owner’s praise, Bibby climbed on the cushions, curling up in the space before you and laying his head on your arm, using it as a pillow.

You giggled and scratched the spot behind his ear.

“Ask me if you need anything.” Jeongguk murmured. “I’ll leave my door open, just in case you need help or something.” He commented sweetly, closing the blinds to the several windows before walking to the kitchen and coming back to you, placing a bottle of water close to you.

He noticed Bibby was already asleep and he caressed the dog’s head before whispering “sleep tight”.

You heard him leave the room. You closed your eyes, feeling Bibby’s lungs inflate and deflate regularly, his heartbeat strong, his short fur velvety and relaxing under your fingertips.

You fell asleep like a baby.

Waking up meant a lot of things happening altogether.

Realising Bibby was in your arms.

Realising you were on Jeongguk’s sofa.

Realising you were heartbroken and that the idea of going back home nauseated you so deeply you couldn’t even remotely consider it.

Jeongguk greeted you from the kitchen. “You’re up, Buttercup!” He cheered, while Bibby turned around and placed his big head under your chin, shading his eyes. He always marvelled you with his curious manners. “It’s midday, would you like brunch?”

You sniffed the air. Bacon and eggs.

“Yes, please.”

Bibby seemed to follow your lead, sniffing the air and running to his owner, acting way faster than you.

“Okay, what do we wanna do?” Jeongguk  asked once you were both seated at the kitchen table.

You ate some food, chewing quietly as you thought. You took your time.

“Honestly, I don't feel like going home, I guess.” You said, staring at your dish. You felt a bit lost.

“We can hang out. Watch TV, meet the guys, do anything you want.” Jeongguk said.

“I was thinking of… No, it's okay, I should go home.”

“But you don't want to.” Jeongguk opposed.

“No, but I don't want to go back later tonight and find myself dreading sleeping in my room.” You said. You couldn't explain the emptiness in your stomach as you thought of the room.

“You know you can stay here as long as you want, right? I have a spare room. We can put the futon there.” He said touching your hand.

That small sentence felt like the water threatening to drown you was slowly lowering.

“I don't want to abuse your kindness.” You admitted shyly, softly.

“I am your friend. It is my duty to help you” He reassured you.

You mulled over your various possibilities. “Okay. But I'd like to go home and grab some stuff. Maybe they're not around.” You considered, looking at Jeongguk doubtfully.

“It's okay. We can go together.”

You exhaled in relief.

Standing in front of the apartment door, you took a deep breath, Jeongguk rubbing his hand between your shoulder blades, over your jacket.

You could already hear them laughing and chatting.

You slipped the keys into the lock and opened the door.

“I'll wait here, yes?” Jeongguk reassured you.

You nodded and went in, walking to your room hesitantly, only to be completely overwhelmed by the sight in the kitchen.

Jin was standing behind Grace, helping her prepare his special avocado sandwich, an elaborate mug topped with whipped cream and crushed almonds waiting beside her while the breakfast table was filled with any kind of breakfast and brunch food one could only dream of.

However, what truly unsettled you was Grace, wearing an oversized shirt — Jin's — bare-legged, with Granny's thick handmade socks covering her feet and calves.

Seokjin said something in her ear and she giggled cutely, throwing her head back and leaning into his shoulder.

They ignored you completely, caught in their happy bubble, while you hid slightly.

You refused to hold on, rushing back to the front door.

Jeongguk spoke softly. “Where's your stuff?”

You shook your head.

“I'm coming with you.” He said, placing his hand on the small of your back and leading you inside, closing the door noisily.

“Hello, we're here.” He called loudly, bringing the two of you to the kitchen.

Seokjin's eyes zeroed in to the place the man's voice had come from, spotting you instead.

So this is it, he thought.

He. Grace.

You. Jeongguk.

Jeongguk?

His jaw contracted.

“Buttercup came by to grab some things. It won't take long, will it, sweets?”

You widened your eyes at him and shook your head. “Yes, sure.”

You almost ran to your bedroom, picking up the most basic stuff to spend a night out and to head off to lessons the following morning.

In the bathroom, you collected your toothbrush and beauty products before returning to the kitchen, your bag ready.

“Good to go, sweets?” He questioned, looking at you with his expressive, gleeful eyes.

You nodded and gave him the tiniest of smiles. “Let's go.”

Jeongguk turned towards Jin and Grace. “Have a nice afternoon, goodbye!” He greeted, letting you wave at the two before dragging you out, not before offering Seokjin a smug grin and winking.

Wearing that mask took a toll on him. He hated what Seokjin had done to you through the years, acting like a protective older brother without being one. He hated that the man kept you emotionally busy and never let you out of his influence. Most of your past relationships had dramatically been brought to an end by Seokjin's asphyxiating presence, by the incapability of your partners to rival with your best friend.

He had ruined you for everyone else, and Jeongguk couldn't find any words to define how cruel that was.

“Are you doing okay, Buttercup?” He asked.

You smiled a bit coldly.

“I'm sorry you had to see that.” He opened the door and let you in, Bibby welcoming the both of you.

“It's okay. They've been dating for more than a month now. He's been by himself for a long time–”

“But he had you!” Jeongguk objected as he took off his jacket.

Your mouth stretched sadly. “Not like that.”

Jeongguk scrunched his nose in disappointment. “Okay. You know I’ve had the biggest crush over you. And we know that by now it’s just water under the bridge. And maybe I never told you but it was so easy to get over you — no offence — since to me, actually to all of us, you and Jin have always belonged to each other. It’s canon. Anyone else would be wrong for the two of you. Obviously.”

You completely ignored Jeongguk’s mention of those old feelings. You already knew; it was all water under the bridge — just like he said — and the two had discussed it years ago. Instead, you focused on the belonging part. “He has Grace now. They’ve been dating for what? Six weeks?”

“He’s been in love with you for four years!” Jeongguk said, slightly upset.

“Well, apparently he didn’t do a great job of showing that! And it doesn’t matter now. He has Grace.” You repeated.

“The two of you are so stupidly dumb, I need to call Yoongi.” Jeongguk said, absolutely frustrated.

Silence lingered heavy in the room, like a thick fog. “Don’t call Yoongi, please.” You said, sitting on the sofa and curling up in a ball. “He’ll scold me and then snap at Jin and then Spice will kill all of us for stressing him and interrupting their kinky Sunday afternoon.”

Jeongguk startled and put down the phone. “Kinky Sunday afternoon? Is that a thing?”

“With Spice, anything is a thing, especially if it means alone time with Yoongi.” You explained, scratching your nose and hugging Bibby as he got on the sofa.

“Okay. Let’s think about happier, less traumatising things. Do you wanna watch some TV? I have some Disney DVDs from when Namjoon comes over. No Bambi and Dumbo because those make him cry.” Jeongguk said, exposing his friend shamelessly. “And I don’t want to pay for Disney plus, Yoongi would disown me and I would never tattoo him anymore and I don’t want that.”

You giggled, completely endeared. “Do you think you have Tangled?”

“Oh, yes!” Jeongguk checked the case and placed the CD in his PlayStation. “Namjoon loves Pascal. The chameleon.” Jeongguk gushed, sitting on the sofa, switching on a small lamp. “Oh, would you like some popcorn?” He asked, ever friendly and welcoming.

You smirked before nodding.

Pausing the film, he dashed to the kitchen, getting a bag into the microwave and coming back five minutes later with a large bowl, the whole room smelling of salted butter.

You hummed in approval and settled down, Bibby miraculously uninterested in the snack. He restarted the film and your mind got completely absorbed by that.

Seokjin was confused.

He had accompanied Grace home, and now he sat in an empty room — an empty house —, looking at the opposite end of the table, where you weren’t sitting.

Did you sleep with Jeongguk for revenge?

Did you maybe talk to him and he made his move and you said ‘why not’, just like you had with that dude almost a month ago?

Maybe you liked him. Maybe you had always liked him and the two of you had confessed — he had a different gleam in his eyes and he had called you ‘sweetie’ or some other dumb nickname like that.

He should have confessed. He should have stopped hiding his head in his ass and should have grown a pair and told you, Buttercup, I’m so far gone that I’d be ready to serve you for the rest of my life, hell, I’d even donate you my sperm if your husband was infertile and you wanted kids. I’d even give up a kidney, fuck, I’d give up my heart too for you.

He was a dumb, stupid fucker.

He wrote you a text.

I’m sorry about fucking Grace, please come home.

Erased

Please come home. We need to talk. I’m in love with you.

Erased

Don’t fuck Jeongguk, you can fuck me instead, please.

Erased

He realised he always wrote ‘please’, and the more he went on, the more he needed to add.

He tried to stop overthinking everything and focused on the actual reality of it all.

He stared at your empty seat again.

Are you coming home for dinner?

Sent

The silence felt eternal.

That must be how space rovers feel, he thought, thinking about that tiny robot that wandered over the surface of Mars all alone.

He felt like the whole apartment couldn’t possibly be home anymore.

He shook his head, telling himself he was being melodramatic. After five minutes, he decided to call you. You always answered texts about food! You knew how much it meant to him eating together!

With renewed tenacity, he found your contact at the very top of the list, three A’s added before your name to make sure it always stayed on top of the list.

And he called you.

The beeping sound of the call ringing went on for ages. He swore he could feel his hair grow and his skin wither.

He waited maybe for a bit less than a minute, his mind already knowing that you were upset with him, that you were making him wait and grovel. You were trying to get on his nerves. Most definitely.

The ringing stopped.

“What is it?”

It was Jeongguk.

“Is she with you?” Seokjin asked, cold as ice.

“Yes. Of course.”

“When is she coming home?” Jin asked dryly. He felt ready for a fight.

“When she wants to.” Jeongguk replied equally dryly.

“Give her the phone.”

Jeongguk breathed heavily. He didn’t want to pass the phone to you. Seokjin had no right claiming you like that, using that voice, acting so mean when he was the one at fault. “She’s sleeping.” It was true. You were really sleeping; you had completely crashed at the end of the cartoon, with Bibby keeping you warm and covering you in affection, never leaving your side. After all, some dogs have a sense of smell so fine that they can sniff at their owner’s skin and perceive the hormones making their human happy or sad.

Seokjin waited, trying to calm himself down. It didn’t work. “I bet you’re gloating. You finally have her, don’t you? You must be feeling so smug.”

Jeongguk stretched his neck, keeping his composure. “I don’t have her, okay? She came to me and I gave her space. I gave her somewhere safe—”

“Our home is safe.” Jin growled. “Here is safe.”

“With you breaking her heart by banging that girl you don’t love?”

“She also banged a man she didn’t give a shit about.”

Jeongguk raised his eyebrows. “Did you bang Grace for revenge, then?”

“No. God, I’ve been alone for years, can’t I have one good thing?” Seokjin almost screamed, his frustration spilling over.

“Maybe she banged him to get over you. Maybe she did that because she’s tired of being alone, too.” Jeongguk explained, his tone glacial. His anger was scary — it didn’t explode or break. It froze everything it touched. “You hurt her. The moment you chose Grace, and with every date you went on. When you went to her on Valentine’s, when you banged her the other night. And there’s a difference. The dude she banged? That was just sex. But you and Grace? There are feelings there. That’s the part she can’t stand. This morning, when she saw the two of you in the kitchen? You broke her heart, Jin. She was broken—”

“But you fixed that, didn’t you, sweetie?” He teased, sarcastic and poisonous.

“Stop talking about my feelings for her.” Jeongguk chastised him. “Unlike you, I told her. I told her I had had a crush for her. I told her three years ago and I also told her that my feelings died down once I realised how she looked at you and how you looked at her. And we’re friends, we’re cool. I would never be able to look at her like anything more than a sister.”

Seokjin shut his mouth. He felt horrible. Maybe because he was horrible. He needed your sparkly laugh and your soothing touch. To talk things out about last night. Make everything right again. “Please, convince her to come home.”

Jeongguk tutted. “I won’t. She’ll come if she wants to. At her own time.”

“Jeongguk...” Seokjin begged.

“You both need to move on from this toxic bond. And there’s no way other than separating. Physically first, and emotionally second.” Jeongguk reasoned, repeating something he and Yoongi had discussed a thousand times.

“She is my friend.”

“You’re not hers, though. You are the person she loves, and the person hurting her. She deserves a real chance, away from you.” Jeongguk rubbed the crown of his head. “I have to go. Goodnight.”

He hung up.

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

Navi: Chapter 1 — Chapter 2 — Chapter 3 — Chapter 4 — Chapter 5 — Chapter 6 — Chapter 7 (7/7)

[rqnvindr]

restless (1.5k followers special)

pairing: iwaizumi hajime x fem!reader

genre: fluff

word count: 1.4k

sypnosis: you don’t get sick that often. but when you do, your best friend, hajime has to put up with you acting like a baby. and being void of any inhibitions in your sleepy state leads to confessions of all sorts...

a/n: thank you guys so much for 1.5k! i originally planned to post this for my 1k followers special, but i sort of only gained inspiration to write it now, which all worked out because i hit another milestone ! thank you guys for all of the support and love, and for patiently waiting for this long overdue scenario ! 

--

“hajime~my soup is cold!” you screech, scrunching your nose as you drink the now stale liquid. iwaizumi face palms before reaching over to your tray to retrieve the bowl, rolling his eyes when you pout up at him as he fights the urge to give into you without any reprimanding. 

“if you had just drank it instead of complaining about how much you hated it you wouldn’t have this problem!” he scolds, clicking his tongue when you stick yours out at him. 

you throw the blankets over your head, burying yourself into your bedsheets as iwaizumi heads back to the kitchen to warm up your soup. he was your rock, but you seldom put him through this much. however, your sickness rewired your brain, making it harder for you to process the childishness of your demands and resort to mostly incomprehensible sighs and groans for communication. 

iwaizumi comes back with the now steaming bowl, stirring it gently to cool it down. 

“you have to drink it while it’s still hot.” you giggle, making him huff. “what’s so funny?”

“nothing, you just kind of sound like a mom.” iwaizumi raises an eyebrow at your endless giggles, wondering how you went from being whiny to a laughing mess from a simple statement that was meant to help you. 

“whatever, just drink up.” you tug at his sleeve before he could leave your side, pouting up at him. oh no not that face, he thinks to himself. 

“hajime, feed me.” you say in the most pleading voice that iwaizumi could not resist coming from you, as much as he hated to admit it. he sighs, pulling up your desk chair next to the bed. considering that this was the first time you’d been under the weather in a long while, it could potentially be more serious than it looks and he would hate to make you even more uncomfortable than you were already feeling. 

iwaizumi still has a little bit of trouble getting you to finish your soup even after complying to your command. he has to deal with you turning away from the spoon and doing more talking than eating. 

the hassle took a number on both of you, thought it seemed to have more of an effect on your already fatigued state, judging from the way you knocked out. iwaizumi stays in your room in case you woke up and needed anything else, keeping himself occupied with studying in the meantime. 

your soft breaths are rather soothing for him, relaxing him well enough to focus on his reading material. and when he turns around briefly to examine your sleeping face, his heart melts. you looked so peaceful it was hard to believe that you were quarreling with him earlier. iwaizumi chuckles as he plays back the moment in his head. as much as you annoyed him, he couldn’t have been happier to be the one to take care of you. 

in fact, iwaizumi often thought about what it would be like to be there for you, as more than a friend. when you called him this morning, voice hoarse and sniffling every five seconds, he thought about how you could’ve contacted anybody, oikawa, one of your girl friends, a whole list of people other than him. but like always, you came back to him. it was only natural that he’d wonder where these favors would take your guys’ relationship. 

iwaizumi is about to go get a glass of water until a soft murmur stops him.“i’d be so lonely without you...” your voice is so soft that he thinks his ears are failing him at first. 

“(y/n)?” iwaizumi calls for you, standing over your limp figure. 

“i know it must be hard to always deal with oikawa, and then there’s me.” you whisper. “i feel so bad, but you’re the most reliable friend i’ve ever had, and there’s no one who understands me like you do.” 

iwaizumi’s confused. were you talking in your sleep or giving a drowsy monologue, thinking that you were still dreaming as you talked to him?

he rubs the back of his neck, looking everywhere around the room but at you. “no, don’t feel bad, you know i’ll always be here for you, right?” ugh why is it so hard to reassure her about how much i care?

his test proves that you were awake when you giggle. “yeah. like how you always insist on walking me home even though i live close to campus. or how you saved me from almost dating someone who wasn’t good for me. you’re so protective~just like a knight in shining armor.” 

iwaizumi’s face burns up from the title. he didn’t want to force anything out of you, but his curiosity was starting to get the better of him. he also couldn’t deny how cute you looked hazily sputtering out your inner thoughts about him. maybe there was a chance that you felt the same way as he did...

he smiles, wiping the sweat that had formed on your forehead with a spare towel. “i’m glad you’re thankful for me. i’m just as thankful for you, but you really need to get some rest.”

iwaizumi starts walking away, but you grab his wrist. “no, please stay with me and hold my hand.” 

“i’m not leaving you, (y/n), i’m just going to the kitchen.” the warmth of your hand makes his palms sweat, both from your body heat and touch itself. 

“will you hold my hand when you get back?” you ask, making him sigh. 

“yes, i will. i’ll hold your hand for as long as you want, okay?” iwaizumi intended to say that more sarcastically, but he realized it came out differently when you squealed in response. 

--

your eyes slowly flutter open a couple hours later. you look down to see iwaizumi’s hand in yours, as he lies face down on the side of your bed. 

it takes a full minute to process that you’re actually holding hands with your best friend. you’d been dreaming about this for a while, but were wondering what led to this position. did you pass out and make him worry? did he just want to secretly show affection while you were unconscious? 

you feel relieved when he wakes up shortly after before your mind runs too wild. 

“hajime? what’s wrong? am i hurt?” you ask, slowly moving your hand away from his. iwaizumi’s glad that you don’t question the hand holding upfront, hoping to ease into that subject later.

“you were sick,” he replies with a yawn. “but you sound a lot better now, i think the nap helped.” 

you hum at his words. “i still have some body aches. but i am definitely feeling better.”

“that’s good.” iwaizumi clears his throat and awkward silence takes it’s place in the room. 

“but, why were we holding hands?” your cheeks warm up upon asking the inevitable question. 

iwaizumi sheepishly scratches his shoulder. “well, uh, you were a bit restless earlier and the only way for you to fall asleep was for me to hold your hand.” he says that fast, and you give him a questioning look. 

“what do you mean i was restless? just tell me the truth hajime, i won’t get mad.”

iwaizumi inhales deeply. “alright, you were a little bit drowsy and asked me to hold your hand when i tried to leave the room. you also said stuff about me being your ‘knight in shining armor’, and how no one else understands you like me and-”

“okay okay, stop i get it.” you raise your palm at him. 

“are you...embarrassed?” 

you lightly smack his arm. “of course i am! gah, and the fact that you heard everything just makes it even more, ugh!”

“i mean, if oikawa, mattsun or makki had heard you i’m sure they’d tell me anyway.” iwaizumi smirks, resulting in a glare from you. 

after a few seconds of trying to sting him with your stare, you break the silence. “you seem rather amused by my accidental confession, though.”

“not just amused. i’m happy.” iwaizumi holds out his hand for you to take, to which you accept, interlocking your fingers with his. 

you let out a chuckle. “well then, i’ll be sure to thank my sickness for giving me more courage than i would’ve ever had normally.” you get out of the covers and pull him in for a hug. he wraps his arms around you tightly, showing you that he’s never going to let you go. 

[puckinghell]

11:11 | Carter Hart

Summary: Hockey players are a little superstitious, so wishing on shooting stars, rainbows and dropped penny’s isn’t a rare occurrence. Normally, they’re wishing for things like wins and awards and cups, but Carter has a little something else on his wishlist.  Words: 2,5k Note: based on the song 11:11 by Jae Jin which is the cutest songs I’ve ever heard. Note 2.0: This has been sitting in my concepts for over a year cause I just don’t love it but I like it too much to throw it away, so I finally decided to just post it and be done with it. Hope you guys like it anyway!

---

It’s a well known fact that hockey players are superstitious. 

It’s a better known fact that hockey goalies are stupidly superstitious. 

So far, Carter has been trying to break the stigma, and he’s pretty damn good at it, thank you very much. He doesn’t care if he puts on his left or right skate first, he doesn’t have to turn the shower on and off twice, there’s no pregame meal better than others. Winning games depends on how well he’s playing, not on setting his alarm at 4:32 when he takes his pregame nap.

Carter isn’t superstitious, but he is a little stitious - and he’s watched The Office way too many times, clearly. There’s just one thing he can be superstitious about. Only one thing. 

You.

---

You’ve been sitting on your porch, sketchbook in hand, drawing your neighbor’s dog. He’s big and black and at 11 years old, you’re not really sure if you’re supposed to be scared of him. He looks a bit scary, but he’s never done anything bad, and your parents don’t seem to mind him.

It’s hot outside. Too hot, really, to be outside your air conditioned living room, but your brothers are yelling inside and you just wanted some peace and quiet.

Some peace and quiet, and to stare at the boy next door. 

He’s a little older than you, a lot taller too, and he’s always intimidated you a bit. Sometimes he hangs out with your brothers, who are older too, but today he’s with some boys from around the neighborhood. 

They’re playing street hockey, like they usually are. You like watching them play; it’s such a fun game to watch, and you really wish you could try it, see if it’s fun to play too.

But your brothers always tell you to go away, and you’ve not had the guts to ask Carter. That’s the boy next door’s name; you heard it one time when his mom called him in for dinner. 

You’re focused on where the dog’s ears meet his head - on your paper it doesn’t quite look right - when something goes flying past your head.

“Duck!” you hear someone yell, but you’d already ducked in reflex. A plastic ball comes zooming past your ear, hits the wall behind you and bounces back; it rolls past your feet and ends up in front of somebody else’s.

“Are you okay?” the same voice asks, a little worried, and when you look up it’s Carter staring at you with wide eyes. “Did he hit you?” 

It takes a while for his words to synch into your brain, but then you shake your head. “No, he didn’t.”

Carter smiles, at that. “I’m sorry,” he says, “I’ve told Alex his aim is so bad he shouldn’t be allowed to play in public, but he didn’t believe me.” 

The other guy, Alex you presume, comes running over, his hockey stick still in his hands. “Shit, sorry,” he says, and you’re pretty sure you’re not allowed to say that word but you don’t mention it. 

“It’s okay,” you say instead. “You didn’t hit me.” 

“Maybe keep an eye on the clock,” says Carter to his friend. “If it’s 11:11, you can wish to actually hit the target, some time.” 

“If you catch 11:11 you can wish to actually make a save,” Alex shoots back.

“If I caught 11:11 I would wish for you to shut up,” Carter snaps back and that’s when you giggle.

Instantly, both the boys turn to you. Carter is grinning at you, a wide and happy grin that makes it impossible for you not to grin back. “What would you wish for, if you caught 11:11?” he asks.

You know the answer; it’s right there on the tip of your tongue and it tumbles out with thinking, words filled with earnest honesty like only those of a kid can be.

“I would wish that I could play hockey.” 

The boy in front of you smiles, yanks the hockey stick out of his friend’s hands and extends it in your direction.

“Come play,” he says. “It’s not like you could be any worse than Alex, anyway.” 

And under loud protest of Alex, a new friendship is born. 

---

Your 16th birthday party is crazy exactly the way 16th birthday parties are supposed to be, with beers snuck into the kitchen as your parents go away for the night, telling you again and again that you can always call them if you need them, even if you think they’ll be mad.

There’s loud music everywhere, and people; you don’t even know half of them, but your brothers promised you they’d make it a party to remember and they’ve kept their promise.

The thing is, well, you’re not the biggest fan of parties, actually. You thought it would be cool, would be like in the movies and you’d feel all grown up and cool, but instead you feel a bit lost, with the noise of the people too loud and their drunken dancing having you worried about your parents furniture.

You also found out you really don’t like beer. 

You get a Pepsi from the fridge, where some friend of your brother’s is mixing some of your dad’s rum into a bottle of Sprite - it doesn’t seem like a good match, but then again, you’ve never tasted rum - while your brother is eating cheese straight from the packet. 

It’s all a bit too much, too sudden, and you find yourself yearning for some peace and quiet, some familiarity.

You make your way to the back yard; it’s quiet, there, the October air a little too cold for your guests, and you sit down on the porch, wrapping your arms around your knees.

The music booms through the walls and you can still hear people screaming, but it sounds more muffled, and it allows you to breathe.

Almost immediately after you sit down, you hear the creak of the backdoor and footsteps against the wood of the porch, and then a familiar body sits next to you, smelling like foresty cologne and floral laundry detergent. 

“Hey,” Carter says softly, smiling at you when you gaze up at him. “You okay?” 

“Yeah, just needed some quiet.” You take a deep breath. “It’s a bit too much, I guess.” 

Carter is your best friend; has been, for years, and you would trust him with literally anything, so you don’t hesitate, telling him the truth. You don’t think there’s anything you’ve not told him the truth on.

Except when he asked you why you never said yes to the boys asking you out on dates.

First, you’d tried to dodge, told him you never got asked, but that didn’t work because James had asked and you’d shot him down, and James was on the hockey team with Carter so obviously Carter had found out.

When he confronted you with that, you just shrugged. 

“Just not into it, Cart.” 

Because they’re not you. I would say yes if it was you. But those are words only meant for your own ears, words your heart utters into the silent void because there’s no way your brain would even let you say them out loud, not when it could ruin the best friendship you have. 

“You know,” Carter says now, “maybe we see a shooting star. Then you could still make your birthday wish.” 

You raise an eyebrow at him. “What are you on about?” 

He laughs, lightly. “I saw you when you blew out your candles, on the cake, earlier. You were super quick with it, there’s no way you made a wish.” 

It earns him an eye roll, from you. 

“Maybe I didn’t wanna make a wish. Maybe there’s nothing I wish for.” 

“Everyone has something they wish for,” says Carter wisely. He bumps your shoulder and then frowns, suddenly. “Fuck, Y/N, you’re freezing.” 

You put your hands on your own arms, wrap your arms around yourself, to feel that indeed your skin is cold and there’s goosebumps on your arms. Before you can comment on it, Carter has taken off his hoodie and is tugging it - not so carefully - over your head.

“Auw,” you whine, “you’re pulling my hair.” 

He immediately stops, then very slowly pulls the fabric down the rest of the way. It’s worse, that way, makes it feel more intimidate than it is. 

“Well,” you say finally, “there’s no shooting stars, so I guess no wish for me, this year.” 

Carter sighs, sounding defeated, then glances at his watch and his whole face lights up. 

“It’s 11:10! You can make a wish at 11:11!”

You can’t help but giggle at his excitement. “Cart, that doesn’t even have anything to do with my birthday.” 

“No,” says Carter, talking slow, as if he’s explaining something to a toddler. “They’re more special. Everyone gets a birthday wish, because everyone has a birthday. Not everyone catches the 11:11, though. That’s the universe telling you it’s your turn for a little bit of luck.” 

It’s dumb, and you don’t believe it, but he says it so adorably convinced, that when he motions at his watch that it’s time, you close your eyes and make a wish.

It’s fine if the wish will never come true. As long as it makes the tall, slender boy next to you happy, the way he does you. 

---

Carter’s first year as a Flyer is stressful.

You get to watch it from up close cause you followed him to Philly; there was never really an option not to. You know, after years of searching for something else, someone else that makes you feel the way he does, that it’s a lost cause.

It’s him, for you. It’s always been him. 

You’re driving to his apartment, the night of what you knew has been a hard game. They lost, again. You know Carter will - wrongfully - blame himself, again. You know you’re gonna do whatever it takes to pick up the pieces, again, and probably fail, again. 

Maybe Carter’s stupid goalie superstition has rubbed off on you, but when you drive through a tunnel, you hold your breath until the end of it.

Let him be okay.

His front door creaks as you open it; he gave you a key as soon as he moved in, and you’ve been using it ever since. You don’t even think you know what his doorbell sounds like.

“Carter?” you call out. You know he’s not asleep; he never sleeps well, after losses. It takes him ages, tossing and turning in his sheets until he just gives up and sits on the balcony, staring at the stars.

He says it calms him down.

You’re pretty sure you know where to find him.

“Cart?” you mutter, opening the balcony door carefully, and indeed, there’s a human figure slumped over the railing, head down, hands tucked into the sleeves of his hoodie. At your voice, he looks up, and you’re struck with how tired he looks. 

Dark circles surround his bright eyes, which seem to light up the dark night as much as the city lights below you.

You go stand next to him, close enough for your shoulders to touch; warmth is still radiating off him, his cheeks are flushed. 

“I don’t get what you’re looking at, here,” you tell him, giving him time to decide whether or not he wants to talk about the game. You know he doesn’t do well when you push him. “You can’t even see the stars. The city lights are way too bright.” You crinkle your nose in disgust. “The stars were so much more beautiful back home.” 

“Do you miss home?” Carter asks.

You shrug. “Sometimes. Some things. You?” 

“I miss my family.” Carter pauses. “Not home, so much. I thought I would, but, the one part I thought I’d miss the most...” Another pause, then a tentative smile. “Well, she followed me here.” 

Your heart flutters at that and you have to remind yourself that he’s just in a mushy mood, probably trying to hide his emotions about the game. 

But you still wanna let him know you appreciate it, and you feel the same, so you lean closer, letting your head drop to his shoulder. Right away, his head is resting on top of yours.

“Can you wish on city lights?” you ask, just to fill the quiet night, and he chuckles.

“Probably not, but I don’t think I’ll need the stars to wish on. I make wishes when I hold my breath in tunnels, when I throw pennies in wells, when I blow out candles...” 

“There’s no wells around here,” you interrupt, and you feel Carter’s shoulders shake with muted laughter. It’s so much better than the sad expression he wore when you got here, and you feel the brick that’s settled in the pit of your stomach since you saw the score, slightly dissipate. 

“I think it’s probably around 11,” says Carter, then. “If we catch it, we can make another wish.” 

You know what you would wish for; the same thing you’ve been wishing for for 8 years. You also know you might as well be wishing for the sky to turn purple, so you’re not really too worried about catching 11:11.

“What do you wish for, anyway?” you ask him. He turns slightly, so he’s facing you now, and incredulous look on his face.

“You really don’t know?” he says. “It’s the same thing, every time.” 

“How would I know?” you huff. “You’ve never told me.” 

“Guess.” 

You don’t see the fun in this game but you’d do anything to see him smile, anything to keep his mind off the game, so you humor him.

“Stanley Cup.” 

“No.” 

“Vezina?” 

“Nope.” 

“World peace.” Carter seems like that guy.

“No, but I would, if I thought it was possible.” 

“A puppy.” 

He laughs. “No, but I should.” 

“I don’t know, Cart,” you tell him, smiling now. You expect him to say something silly, but a serious expression crosses his face, and then his hands come down and grab hold of your hips. He takes a step closer and your breath hitches in your throat.

“What...” are you doing, you start, but he interrupts you.

“When I wish on 11:11, I’m wishing for you.” 

His lips touch yours before you’ve processed the words, but as soon as you realize what’s happening, you hook your arms behind his neck, push up on your tiptoes to kiss him deeper. 

You try to put everything you have into that kiss; try to tell him, wordlessly, that you wanna grow old together, wanna be his person, want him to stay with you even when you’re scared, that you think he’s beautiful and magical and everything you could ever wish for. 

That every time you wish on shooting stars and ticking clocks, you’re wishing for him too.

“I think we might’ve missed 11:11,” is the first thing you say when you finally pull apart, breathing a little heavily, Carter’s cheeks tinted a little pink.

He breathes out a chuckle, rests his forehead against yours.

“That’s okay,” he says. 

“I’ve got all I’d wish for right here.” 

[this-is-such-a-bad-decision]

TMA Epilogue X Critical Role Crossover (Good Cows Edition)

Want to write this fic, gonna make it a post instead because I will never make the time for it otherwise.  Spoilers up to the most recent episode for both shows. (TMA Finale and Ep 131 Critical Role.)

We at the Blooming Grove with the Clay family.

Been like two hours since the Mighty Nein went to stop an evil city, little tense but Clays know how to chill, sipping tea around their little table

Clarabelle comes bursting into the house, “TWO DUDES JUST APPEARED OUT OF THIN AIR COVERED IN SHINY BLACK STUFF also they’re bleeding”

Rest of the family comes stampeding out, indeed there are two bleeding humans on the lawn (Martin got hit by debris when the Panopticon collapsed, Jon has been stabbed, y’know) tangled up in tape

Cornelius and Calliope go make sure the Grove isn’t under attack while Constance gives the boys some healing, tries to ask what’s going on but no one speaks the same language (Jon is no longer connected to the Eye so no cheat codes)

JMart pass out from inter-dimensional jet-lag, Clays clean them up and put them to bed

Martin wakes up in the middle of the night while Cornelius is keeping watch (Clays are welcoming but these guys are strangers) and is like “ah, so the giant cow people weren’t a hallucination.”

Language barrier is still there but tea is universal; Cornelius makes some for Martin, ends up holding Martin through some tears as everything that’s happened catches up at once

Good thing the Clays know how to help people in mourning

Martin goes back to sleep, Jon and Martin wake up in the morning and get to be happy and cry about being alive and safe together

Soon as that part’s over thing’s get heavy cause MAG 200 was A LOT and it’s gonna be a bit before either of them are okay with how everything went down

The Clays are very kind and gentle and it only makes Jon feel worse

“Martin. This is the good cow world. We brought evil to the good cows.”

Tbh Jmart were more expecting parallel universes instead of this, but alright

Eventually they start exploring the Grove. It’s a little unnerving when they realize this place is a graveyard, even more unnerving when they realize this place and the Clays are clearly magical (since the only magic in their world is evil), and super unnerving when they realize this place is surrounded by an evil enchanted forest that the Clays won’t let them walk into alone

But no one tries to hurt them or eat them so they settle in and try to figure out where they are going to go from here

Corrin and Colton get back after a couple days, Constance introduces them to the newcomers and then tells Corrin everything about The Mighty Nein and the evil floating city

The next day Corrin prepares the cleric spell Tongues, pulls Jon and Martin aside and casts it on herself so they can have a conversation

Jon ends up confessing everything for the sake of warning them about the evil he’s unleashed on their world (Martin thinks he should hold back A LITTLE BIT for the sake of avoiding an angry mob but Jon gets into his story-telling flow)

Corrin: “Is one of the Fears a giant screaming city floating in the void?” Jon: “What”

Corrin is exasperated by this new wave of bad news, Jon is bemused to learn that his world’s baggage only takes 2nd place for Impending Eldritch Threats

Corrin tells Jon that they’re going to wait for her nephew and his friends to get home, they’ll probably have a better idea how to deal with this problem than she does, in the meantime she’ll see what guidance the Wildmother can offer

Cue Jon and Martin having a million questions on the cosmology of this world, Corrin casts Tongues on him so he can go bother the rest of her family while she goes to meditate.

A week or two passes with Jon and Martin processing their trauma, talking through their differences, and slowly learning more about the world. The revelation that there are non-evil gods is a nice one.

The world doesn’t end, The Mighty Nein return, Jon and Martin realize this is not a world solely made up of cow people

The Nein are VERY grumpy to learn that a new problem has popped up while they were gone, but they agree to take Jmart with them to speak with their various high-powered connections about this threat

The Mighty Nein is a BIG culture shock for Jon and Martin after a couple weeks of chilling with the Clays (not to say the Clays aren’t weird, but their weird is easier to ignore if you can’t speak the language, and I think they are better behaved around guests)

Caduceus is now in charge of Tongues the same way Jester is in charge of Sending

The Nein are varying amounts of sympathetic to what has happened to Jon and Martin considering they now have to deal with the consequences, but I think they generally settle on a similar reaction that they had to Caleb, which is that it’s not your fault if you were manipulated into it; Jon has a hard time accepting this.

The Mighty Nein makes the rounds (Cobalt Soul, Yussa, etc.) (yes, Yussa is fine, no, he’s not going to help with this problem, he’s going to nap for a million years) before getting back to Allura

(At this point various institutions have started to notice an increase in monster sightings and strange new cults popping up worshiping unfamiliar gods)

Allura is ALSO very exasperated to learn about new gods trying to assert themselves, ends up calling in her people

Yup, enter Vox Machina

I’m going to skip a bunch of stuff now because I’m getting tired of typing (also spoilers for the Vox Machina arc going forward)

But basically they do some magic bullshit, follow a similar road map as their solution to Vecna, and they use Jon’s voice (which webbed the Fears up to be dragged into this world in the first place) to pin down the Fears and throw them beyond the divine gate

The Fears proceed to get their asses kicked by Sarenrae and the Wildmother and the Stormlord and all the rest

Not so tough now are ya bitches

Web didn’t even consider that other worlds might have things strong enough to kill it

Got used to a world that didn’t have any gods of love and hope and now you don’t know how to handle it

Anyway, Jon and Martin settle into their new world, get to learn whatever dope D&D magic they want, and live happily ever after.

Feel free to write this if anyone is inspired, the only requirement is that you let me know when it’s posted cause I would love to read it.

[home-is-where-beels-tiddies-are]

i lost the post i had that gave all of caragan’s info, so i’ll just post it again here. first pic is caragan after they die, because only obey me could drive me to design a character post-death 

i did design the sigils myself. then i added the sin marks from the cards, put that little pact symbol on it, and i took the original symbols from the actual demons and simplified/altered them. because i didn’t think it was a good idea to use the actual symbols. don’t wanna manifest something ya know lmao 

very long info dump under the cut. (info dump is copied from the post i lost) and yeah, caragan is a generic super powerful protagonist. so prepare for cheese 

likes: drawing, reading, gaming, and staying at home. they are drawn to dark things; horror, dark colours, literally most things dark.

home/family: they live alone, but near their parents, and they visit almost daily. they have a cat and three snakes (while caragan is away, the fur and scale babies are taken care of, don’t worry) 

age: 27 yrs old, born Jan 7th 

gender: nonbinary, they/them 

height: 4′10 / 147 cm

occupation: part time job, they also make bits and bobs to sell; art, crochet, etc. they went back to college too (and how they signed up for a certain exchange program; in my headcanon, they signed up for it and expected something mundane) then, after their first visit to the devildom, they start learning about the peace that diavolo proposed in their own time, and volunteer for the human organizations involved 

the design after they die: neither angel or demon, appearance shows physical attributes of both. (i also have a lot of post-death info, but… this is already so much, so i will leave it out) the ref i made is below: (worth noting that before their “fall,” using the term very, very loosely, everything on them that is red was white)

appearence: 

they wear all black with small, brightly coloured accessories 

brightly coloured accessories are normally bracelets, scarves, or pins. socks are also always nauseatingly bright 

casual outside attire: black hoodie, black t shirts, black ripped jeans, and converse 

casual around the house attire: grey sweatpants, obnoxious socks, a tank top, and sometimes a sweater or jacket they’ve stolen from the brothers 

formal attire: usually a suit, but asmo can convince them to wear a dress by finding amazing ones and wearing a dress too 

school uniform: jacket sleeves rolled up, or while in classrooms, off completely. no tie, ever. dress pants, wears black flats instead of dress shoes. during their first year, they kept their hair in a ponytail in class 

always wearing their favourite necklace 

first year piercings:

left ear - bar piercing in top, three normal piercings on bottom

right ear - three normal piercings on bottom 

second visit piercings:

left ear - same

right ear - three normal piercings on bottom, and two new normal piercings on top 

they wear binders to their classes and almost always when they go out for less active shenanigans 

rarely wears a binder in the house of lamentation; the first thing they take off when they get home 

hair is greying on both sides of their head, also some greys on top

always, always has dark circles and bags under their eyes 

brothers + romance: they are absolutely smitten with all of them, and they are very blunt and obvious about it. their favourite, though, is beel. this is kept as plainly obvious as their feelings for the others. since they love all of the brothers, they don’t hide their attraction to anyone. for the most part, it works out. 

pact mark locations:  (see first ref pic) 

lucifer - throat 

mammon - upper back 

leviathan - lower back 

satan - left inner thigh 

asmo - right inner thigh 

beel - right inner wrist 

belphie - left inner wrist 

overall, they’re very shy and awkward, and they like to joke around to cover it up. generally quiet, even around those they’re comfortable with. (they don’t talk a lot unless they’re having a ‘moment’ - a day where they’re hyperactive) they have crippling anxiety and depression, but the medication they take eases it. gets irritable around loud noises/people. they make an attempt in having a decent sleep schedule, but most nights they’re awake for hours longer than they intend to be. sleep schedule is more erratic when in the devildom. (probably belphie’s fault.) 

everything below is uh… like, how they act/react to the other characters.  

lucifer:  they mirror what lucifer offers them; if he’s being soft, they will be soft in turn. if he is upset with them, they will apologize and attempt to do better, and they expect the same if the roles are reversed. stuff like that. they don’t openly flirt with lucifer the same way they do some others, instead they focus on gentle interactions. they kept close to lucifer when they first arrived in the devildom (when mammon ditched them) because they deemed him more trustworthy than anyone else. 

mammon:  when with mammon, every filter caragan has is demolished instantly. given mammon never tried to kill or charm them, they grew to respect him very quickly. they also don’t treat mammon like an idiot; they’ve dealt with that themselves enough. yes, they tell him off for doing things that will very clearly come back to bite him in the ass, but they never target his intelligence because they know he’s smarter than he lets on. they openly flirt with mammon because they like to make him blush. they both get into trouble often, but they have each others’ backs throughout. 

leviathan:  they don’t spend as much time with leviathan, but they do enjoy his company. they usually lock away their info dumping and interests, but not with leviathan. he gets to gush about the things he loves, and they match his energy. he tries to offer the same courtesy. they also like to flirt with leviathan to make him blush, but they don’t do it as heavily or as often because his rejections/self deprecating comments make them feel bad. they are also thankful that they can talk to him about their anxiety and he understands it. they rarely call him “levi.” 

satan:  they also don’t spend as much time with satan, but less so than leviathan. they can’t help but feel stupid when they’re with him, so they don’t socialize with him often. buuut any time he offers to socialize, they don’t turn him down. in fact, caragan gets excited. he’s also where they turn to when they’re struggling with their studies or curious about something demon related. they do attempt to joke around and flirt with him, but it’s like a game of chicken, and caragan always ducks out. fairly quickly, too. 

asmodeus:  caragan adores asmo, but they can’t really place why. they also consider him as much a work of art as he does himself. they are very soft with asmo and they rarely flirt with him in a conventional way. even though they reject most sexual advances, they are as handsy as asmo is. asmo is their official cuddle buddy and they love to shower him in gentle affection. if asmo is in sight, they can often be caught staring. at first, they’re very embarrassed by this, and the brothers poke fun. eventually, though, they’re utterly shameless and just widen their smile if asmo catches them. 

beelzebub:  they love beel more than life itself, and that is absolutely not an exaggeration. at first, they were very avoidant and anxious when it came to beel, but when they started to hang out with him, they found him very easy to be around. the attraction started then, but then became way too strong when beel went into full demon mode over his custard. (mood) they started following him around everywhere. they continued that trend well into the year and the following visit. they’re very affectionate and clingy, sitting his lap and hugging him constantly. they carry around as many snacks as their pockets can hold for beel and beel only. 

belphegor:  they knew from the start that belphie was lying to them in the attic and probably meant them harm, but they never held it against him. they never really held their death against him either. they’re quiet around belphie for the most part, even when they started to like him. they often nap with him (against their better judgement) too. the two of them talk a lot about their ideal “me and you and beel” future. more than is healthy. their conversations outside of that are often filled with snark and a weird tension that caragan doesn’t understand. it usually melts away after a cuddle and a nap, though. 

diavolo:  they instantly liked diavolo. they’re very cautious and anxious around him, but they try to be warm in their interactions with him. they do call him “lord diavolo,” and treat him with due respect. he usually throws them for a loop with most things he does, but they try to keep up and be understanding. they have a strong need to get closer to him, for reasons that they don’t understand or even try to understand. they don’t do much about it either. his demon form causes them to become flustered. very flustered. the not-oblivious brothers tease them for it. they have such a huge crush on him. 

barbatos:  they don’t interact with him that much, or try to interact with him outside of things that are necessary. they have nothing against him, they just don’t feel the need to. they’re very polite to him, as polite as they are to diavolo. while they’re curious about him, they don’t go out of their way to interact with him. there’s really not much there besides mild curiosity. 

solomon:  they think he gives off a copious amount of mischievous vibes and it puts them off. at first. they are kind and polite towards him, and they would consider him a friend. the friendship is essentially that “we have no friends in this class so we will become friends to fill the void. but only in this class. we will never speak to each other outside of this place.” it’s not nearly as specific, but that’s the flavour of friendship they have in the beginning. eventually, he grows on caragan and they end up looking forward to seeing him. they just find him very fun. 

simeon:  they think simeon is beautiful and has been caught staring almost as much as when they stare at asmo. with simeon though, they will never be shameless about their staring. they continue to be embarrassed about it forever. forever. they’re polite and kind to simeon, but they feel he keeps himself closed off from them. during their second visit to the devildom, with the play and all, they become a little scared of simeon. it doesn’t change the way they interact with him, but it does put them off for a bit. and after some overthinking, they end up being more drawn to him. 

luke:  they were very anxious around luke, at first. they don’t like kids, and generally become twice as awkward around them. eventually, they found him adorable. when they speak to him, they will focus on child logic, but they do speak to him the way they would speak to anyone. never patronising. happily helps him with studies if they can, gives him affirmation and reassurances whenever needed, and is protective. they have even been known to stand up to lesser demons when they target luke. (when simeon isn’t around; it’s rare) even though caragan is scared shitless the whole time, they try anyway. seeing as they’re only 4′10, they never make short jokes or anything of the like. when the brothers make short jokes, they shoot disapproving looks and will express disappointment if it drags on too long. 

the end of their life time:  they go on to live for a while, dedicating themselves entirely to diavolo on the human side of things, even becoming a public speaker for it. sharing their experiences n all that. which is something they’d never do for anything else. 

at a certain point though, about 50 yrs old or so, they do stop visiting the demon brothers because they’re getting old. they die shortly after in an accident. brothers don’t find out because caragan was already avoiding them. (though, there is general unease because of the bonds they have with caragan. they know something’s very, very wrong but not what. they fear the worst, and they’re right to.) 

but for all the things they did for “the cause,” they were to be judged in the celestial realm. (and… i see it as… in a horrible, horrible way, the big guy upstairs knew everything that would happen with lilith, and deemed her and her brothers an acceptable loss in exchange for peace. it was all orchestrated. i also think that diavolo knew the plan, for the most part. he has his own reasons for wanting the peace, but he does know what the plan was.) 

but they’re escorted to The Big Guy by simeon and luke (a cute reunion with hugs) and he straight up asks caragan what they want. like they can stay here, go to the devildom, or remain in the human realm. 

in any case, they’ll be given all the attributes needed to thrive in all three realms, but only if they continue in their trying to maintain peace. obviously, caragan is all for continuing. and of course, they choose to make their home with the brothers. god’s all like, “you will retain your angelic status, but you do have to fall to achieve the status of demon. are you sure?” they have to have demon attributes to ensure survival and comfort living among demons, so that’s why. 

and caragan straight up says, without missing a beat, “even heaven is hell without them.” everybody knows who they’re talking about. simeon is torn between “that’s so rude” and “that’s so sweet” and luke is horrified. god just laughs. 

they all talk a bit longer so caragan knows exactly what they’re getting into. they will have a lot of power as both angel and demon, but they have to keep their humanity in exchange for that power. which means, inevitably, their long life will become a curse. no human is built to live for a millennia, so it’ll take a toll on their mind and at the end of it all, they won’t be themselves anymore. 

caragan basically says, “yah, worth it. lezgo.” god hands them paperwork, some explaining what caragan is and why, as well as a peace treaty thing to give to diavolo when they get home. i was thinking it’d be something cheesy like “the treaty of the last fallen angel.” no more fallen angels after caragan, they fell so no one else has to again. idk, symbolism or something. but even the future angel/demon hybrids won’t have to fall. 

cue caragan yeeting themselves from the celestial realm. 

diavolo knows caragan’s about to fall (barbatos n all that) and gathers the brothers to the place it’ll be. caragan is just a ball of blue flames, then a crater, the brothers are baffled. 

falling hurts a shit ton (even without losing wings and all that), so caragan ends up crying, but they cry blood. (for angel reasons. i dunno why i think angels cry blood.) which drips from their face and onto the white fabric of the thing they’re wearing, and then everything white fades into a red, even the white of their eyes. (i want to try very roughly animating that one day.) 

then there’s another heart warming reunion, but also with a shit ton of heart break because not only did caragan die, they also just fell. the brothers are angy.

before the brothers can get all “let’s fight god,” caragan hands diavolo the paperwork, all of which he reads out loud for the brothers. 

uh. roll credits. 

just tidbits:

caragan is an angel of perseverance and a demon of despair. 

they have six wings and six eyes on each wing. 

their halo was a tangible ring of golden light, but when they fell, it became horns. but like… still in a ring shape. still a halo. just different. 

they are barefoot in their angel/demon form because they have talons and also just… hate shoes. 

when all the white turned red, all the gold turned silver. 

they look as they did during their second visit to the devildom when they enter their “afterlife.”  

their human form is also just… them. hoodie, ripped jeans, everything, they’re just themselves. 

[lockefanfic]

Business Trip - Part 7: Path Not Taken

Without a single word, Sana raises her chin slightly, and a soft, sultry look appears as if by magic on her gorgeous face, illuminated as it was by the soft lamp above her. She bites her lip slightly, and as she does so she reaches behind her with one hand - you hear the soft sound of a zipper being undone, and immediately you realize why she has come here.

The dress falls from her body as though it were held up purely by magic, and in the space of a second, Minatozaki Sana is standing naked before you, having evidently worn nothing beneath her dress.

“I want a night to remember you by,” she says softly, her voice a whisper in the quiet room, “I want you to take me tonight as if I were the one you chose.”

“..She’s your what?”

Your sudden exclamation, in English, no less, draws looks from every other occupant of the elevator - thankfully, the girl in question apparently didn’t hear you, so absorbed is she in whatever music is playing out of the headphones she had plugged into her ears.

You bow sheepishly in apology to those nearest you before returning your gaze to Momo. The elevator opens, and the girl - Momo’s ex-girlfriend, apparently - leaves the elevator along with a few others. Satisfied that she is no longer trapped in an enclosed space with her ex, Momo is content to have a hushed conversation with you in English, confident that no one else in the elevator would likely be unable to understand.

“I… had a phase in university, okay? Every girl does.”

“Hey, nothing wrong with that. I was just surprised, that’s all. She’s super cute. Respect.”

You reach out a closed fist, and she accepts and returns your fist bump, a small, reluctant smile appearing on her lips.

“It wasn’t anything serious. We just fooled around for a couple of months. Maybe half a year.”

You give Momo a look of surprise, raising an eyebrow.

“...maybe it was around a year,” she finishes, “or maybe a little more than a year.”

“That sounds pretty serious to me,” you reply.

“Don’t worry about it,” she says dismissively, “it was just a phase.”

“I knew you were too good with Sana in Tokyo,” you say teasingly.

Momo smirks in reply before sticking her tongue out at you. It is a ridiculously cute gesture, and you find a smile appearing on your own lips, almost involuntarily. She had that effect on you - she made smiles magically appear.

“Anyway,” she concludes, “we’ll probably never see her again.”

---

“My name is Miyoui Mina, the chief legal counsel hired to preside over the legal paperwork of this acquisition. I look forward to working with you over the coming months, especially when we’re back at your home office.”

You extend your hand sheepishly, and she gives you a firm up and down shake, her thin arms providing a surprisingly firm grip.

“Same here, Mina,” you say, giving Momo, who is standing next to you, a look, “I look forward to seeing a lot of you.”

Beside you, Momo has managed to throw up the most awkward smile you had ever seen on her as she shakes Mina’s hand as well.

---

Thankfully, Mina was only present for the very first meeting, introducing herself as the chief legal counsel before immediately starting work, thankfully, on another floor of the building. Momo spent most of the morning in a constant state of embarrassment, understandably stressed and shaken over the prospect of having to work closely with her ex-girlfriend for the next few months.

The awkwardness was alleviated somewhat during the lunch hour, when the president of your company appeared via video conference to formally welcome the new acquisition’s management and employees. He also invited them to dinner that night at the fancy establishment Choa had mentioned that morning at breakfast. This got a great reaction from the local employees - it really must’ve been a fancy place, judging by the surprised looks of anticipation that the invitation drew from those in the office.

Sana was also present at many of the morning’s meetings, although she curiously remained distant from the three of you. You glanced over at her with every chance you got, hoping to get a reading on her mood, but the few times you got a good look at her she held a neutral expresion on her face, her features either deep in concentration or otherwise unreadable. She left the office just before lunch, ostensibly to continue work with a satellite office elsewhere in Seoul.

The rest of the day’s meetings passed uneventfully, and you were thankful for the opportunity to return to the hotel to rest up a bit before heading out to dinner. Momo followed you into your room, and while you were both too tired from last night’s activities and the recent day’s work to engage in anything further, she did cuddle up next to you as you both enjoyed a short post-work nap.

You weren’t looking forward to speaking to Sana that night, and the talk you had to have with her. Likewise, Momo was still clearly disturbed by the idea of working with an ex for the next few months.

But at that moment, with her warmth snuggled up next to yours and the sweet strawberry scent of her head just inches below your nose, all your troubles were chased away and you both happily wandered into the welcoming, if mercilessly temporary, bliss of sleep.

---

The venue for the merger celebration dinner turned out to live up to its name - it was probably the fanciest, most expensive restaurant you’d ever had the pleasure of going to, and going by the reactions of most of your fellow employees, that was true for most of the attendees as well. The food certainly lived up to the hype, serving a perfect array of traditional Korean dishes with a modern flair.

The dinner was winding down now, and the attendees had separated into smaller groups to network or make general small talk. The restaurant bar had opened up, and the liquor was flowing freely. Your boss had flown in from out of town, and ensured that no one was wanting for another glass.

Upon excusing yourself from a short business conversation with Seolhyun and her colleagues, you re-entered the main dining area to find Momo, Choa, and Mina engaged in a conversation that seemed significantly more fun and hilarious to Choa and Mina than it did to Momo, who looked ridiculously uncomfortable and awkward in front of her ex - you presumed they were talking about Momo and Mina’s university exploits.

After catching your attention and making eye contact, Momo gestures towards the open balcony. Knowing what she meant, you send her an affirmative nod, and she nods in return, a supportive smile on her cute features. She makes a fist with her hand in a “fighting” gesture, and you nod thankfully to her as you make your way outside.

The restaurant had a rather spacious and luxurious looking balcony, and it was there that you found Sana, leaning against the rail with a small cocktail glass in her hand, staring up at Seoul’s rapidly darkening skyline.

“There you are,” you say softly to the Japanese girl when you are close enough, “we were hoping you would sit at our table during dinner.”

Sana lowers her head softly, as though she were dreading the moment that you would find her and start this conversation. She seemed to resign herself to her fate, however, as she lets out a short sigh and turns halfway to face you, keeping one arm on leaning on the balcony rail.

She had always had a keen sense of fashion, and in a room full of gorgeous, well dressed women she still managed to stand out in a short black cocktail dress that highlighted her long, perfectly shaped legs and slim figure. Her hair is done up to fall on one side of her cute face, and while she greets you with a smile, there is little happiness in it.

“Maybe I’ve been hiding,” she says softly in reply, the smile on her lips trying and only partly succeeding in convincing you that she was joking.

You step up next to the young woman, leaning against the handrail beside her.

“Sana, I was hoping we could talk.”

“About you and Momo?”

You smile to yourself - of course she already knew. Girls always knew before you did, it seemed.

“How did you know?”

Sana giggles, although it is an empty sound that leaves her throat, void of the cheeriness that once pervaded even the smallest of her gestures.

“You’re so dense sometimes,” she says softly, “it was obvious from the second you two walked into the office this morning.”

You nod slightly, smiling back at her, unable to say anything in reply.

“I always figured it would be a matter of time before you two got together,” Sana says, pausing slightly before continuing, “She’s quite the catch. I’m happy for the both of you.”

“Thank you, Sana,” you manage to say, although you wish you could say more. The two of you remain standing there in silence, leaning against the balcony rail, both lost in your own thoughts. The volume of the party behind the both of you continues to increase as employees buy each other drinks and shots, but the only thing you can hear is the deafening silence between you and Sana.

After an indeterminate amount of time, Sana finally speaks, her voice slow and sad.

“What’s your hotel room number?”

“901,” you answer, the question catching you off guard.

Sana drains the rest of her cocktail in one shot, before turning so that her back is facing the balcony rail. You turn to face her, but she avoids making eye contact with you, her eyes cast downward at the small space between the two of you.

“I’ll drop by to say goodbye,” she says softly, before turning and walking away, leaving you wondering what she meant.

---

A few hours later you are back in your hotel room, pacing back and forth in front of the window, trying to find some distraction in Seoul’s downtown lights. You had no idea what Sana meant by her last words to you, and so you figured it would be best to return to the hotel and prepare yourself for whatever it was she had in mind. Momo agreed that it would probably be the best course of action, assuring you that she would be there to support you no matter what happened between you and Sana.

You glance once more at the digital clock on the nightstand - it is just past midnight.

As if staring at the clock triggered some sort of switch, a soft knock at your door interrupts the silence of your hotel room, and immediately you know it could only be Sana. You walk nervously to the heavy door and pause for a moment to compose yourself, your hand on the silver door handle. Taking a deep breath, you swing the handle downward and open the door.

Minatozaki Sana fills the doorframe, bathed in the hotel hallway’s soft light, a blank, unreadable expression on her features. You open your mouth to say something in greeting, but she pushes past you and walks into your hotel room. You let her pass, and close the door softly behind her, watching as she stands in front of your bed, her back facing you. She takes a moment there, as though composing herself, ensuring herself that what she was doing was the best course of action.

After a moment she turns around so that she is facing you. You are still in the entrance foyer of your hotel room, not quite knowing what to do.

Without a single word, Sana raises her chin slightly, and a soft, sultry look appears as if by magic on her gorgeous face, illuminated as it was by the soft lamp above her. She bites her lip slightly, and as she does so she reaches behind her with one hand - you hear the soft sound of a zipper being undone, and immediately you realize why she has come here.

The dress falls from her body as though it were held up purely by magic, and in the space of a second, Minatozaki Sana is standing naked before you, having evidently worn nothing beneath her dress.

“I want a night to remember you by,” she says softly, her voice a whisper in the quiet room, “I want you to take me tonight as if I were the one you chose.”

“I… I don’t want to take advantage of you,” you reply.

“You’re not. I want this. I want you. One night. No more, no less. Please. Take me.”

You are dumbfounded - by the beauty of the now naked young woman standing in front of you, but also by her request. It takes you a few seconds to gather yourself and your thoughts, but your course of action almost immediately becomes clear. You knew that Momo would have no problems with what you were about to do, so without allowing yourself a moment to change your mind, you step toward Sana, watching her large, round eyes as they hold your gaze every step of the way.

Your lips crash together as your arms wrap around one another’s bodies, your movements driven as much by instinct as by lust and passion - you both allow your instincts to take over, your natural desires to lose yourselves in each others’ bodies.

Your tongue finds welcome in Sana’s mouth, where it meets its counterpart and engages in a passionate duel with it. Your hands wander around the young woman’s warm, soft body, rediscovering curves and soft, clear skin. Sana had lost some weight in the months since you had last seen her, and while a part of you missed the curviness her added weight gave her, there was no doubt that the newfound slim tightness of her body held an appeal of its own.

You break the kiss to dive into her neck, and the Japanese girl lifts her head to give you easier access. Simultaneously your right palm wanders beneath her waist and grasps her left butt cheek, eliciting a soft gasp from the young woman as she allows you to reacquaint yourself with her body.

“Tell me what you want me to do,” you whisper softly into her ear, your words coming from a place of consideration and not of lust - you genuinely wanted to do whatever you could to make this night as memorable for her as you could.

“I want… I want you...” Sana begins, her voice low and quiet, “I want you to take me. All night.”

You take her words as license to pleasure her however you saw fit, and to that end an idea comes to mind. Leaving the welcoming, comfortable crevice of her warm neck, you give her a soft kiss on her lips before you take her by the shoulders and turn her around, so that her back is to you and she is facing the hotel room’s dresser, which has a large mirror above it.

Looking over her shoulder, you take a moment to admire Sana’s tight, naked body; you guessed she had been working out in the time since your last visit to Tokyo, as she had lost a little bit of her baby fat. Her breasts, still perky and round, sit proudly atop her chest, and her flat, slim stomach leads invitingly to the shaved mound between her thighs.

You lift your t-shirt over your head, and as soon as the article of clothing is gone you press yourself against her back, enjoying the feel or your naked torso pressing against hers. Your arms snake around the young woman’s body - your right hand reaches across her torso to fondle and cup her left breast, while your left hand caresses her lower stomach - both your hands tease her intimate areas, without actually stimulating them.

Sana lets a soft “Ohhh,” escape her lips at the feeling of your hands teasing her body before continuing breathlessly, “touch me. Make me feel good.”

You smile devilishly against the back of her neck before you plant soft kisses against her skin; at the same time you finally capture her breast in your palm, relishing the feeling of her hardened nipple as it pokes your palm and the loud gasp of air that escapes Sana’s lips at the new contact. Your left hand traces a more careful path, your left middle finger leading the way as it slowly, carefully heads towards that wonderful, warm spot between her legs.

Eventually it reaches Minatozaki Sana’s most intimate area, and your middle finger dives as deep as it can between her warm thighs to the very bottom of her pussy, finding much to your satisfaction that she is already drenched, her juices quickly soaking your finger as it slowly, carefully traces her outer lips in an upward movement until it finds the hardened nub of her clitoris, which it caresses in slow, up and down movements.

“You’re so wet, Sana.”

“You… make me… so wet,” she replies, and her response drives you to slowly increase the tempo of your strokes against her clit, causing the volume of the steady moans that are escaping her throat to increase. For long minutes your finger plays against her clit, causing waves of pleasure to wrack the body of the young Japanese girl.

Sana is at this point a quivering, shaky mess, her legs turning into jelly, and she leans forward slightly upon the dresser with both hands to keep her balance. In leaning forward she brushes her naked ass against your crotch and the hard shaft beneath your pajama bottoms, eliciting a gasp of surprised pleasure from both your mouths. Almost immediately, as if by instinct, she reaches her left hand back and finds your hardened shaft, caressing it over your pajamas, a move that surprises you and leaves you momentarily stunned in pleasure.

“Take this off. Let me feel you,” she says, and you oblige, stripping yourself of the offending garment with a speed that surprises you.

As soon as you are as naked as she is, you press yourself once more against the young woman, relishing the warmth of the small of her back against the underside of your shaft. Sana’s fingers return to your cock, and she pumps her small hand up and down slowly as best she can given her position.

You return her efforts with some of your own, continuing to focus on the movements of your finger on her clit, rubbing the soft nub with a consistent pressure with the pad of your middle finger. Your right hand captures the stiffened nipple of her breast with your index finger and thumb, teasing and pinching the bud mercilessly, drawing a soft, breathy moan from Sana’s throat. Your fingers continue their magic on her body as the moans continue and increase in volume as she nears her peak.

Sana lets go of your shaft, now unable to continue to pump it - not that you mind, so focused are you on pleasuring her. She reaches back with her now-free hand, grasping your hip with a tight grip in an attempt to find some release for the pleasure coursing through her young body.

“I’m so close,” Sana says, barely able to form the words amidst the gasps of pleasure and lust, “I’m cumming!”

The young woman does just that, and her body is wracked by spasms as the hand between her legs drives her over the edge. Her soft thighs capture your hand and wrist between them as her body quivers in pleasure. You tighten your hold on her body, squeezing her breast slightly tighter as she savors every moment of her orgasm.

“Enough,” she says softly, her chest still heaving with heavy, needed breaths, to your reflection in the mirror, “I need you inside me. I need you now.”

You take one more moment to savor the sight of her reflection in the mirror - of her flushed, soft skin, her tight, slim body as it is ravaged by your fingers and hands, one fondling a soft breast, the other between her legs as it works her glistening, moist flesh. You savor the sight of this wanton, lust-drunk woman in your arms, and you smile devilishly at the prospect of the pleasures that are about to come.

Regretfully, you withdraw your hands from their positions on her breast and pussy, and taking her by the wrist, you lead her to the bed. Sana lies down on its edge, her legs spreading wantonly as you take your position between them. As she lies down on her back, you are struck once more by her beauty - she was absolutely gorgeous when she was simply sitting at an office table, but here, in the throes of passion with nothing but her own allure to clothe her, she is simply breathtaking.

“Please,” she says softly, “fill me.”

You take your shaft, as hard as it can ever be, gently in your right hand, and you softly place it against the quivering, warm, wet flesh of Sana’s pussy, the both of you taking delight in the feeling of your cockhead pressing against her opening, the slit pressing against her clit as it passes over it, giving you both a mere appetizer at the pleasure that is to come.

Then, with one soft, slow movement, you line the head of your shaft up with her ready, inviting lips, and you thrust inside Minatozaki Sana’s body with one smooth, long stroke.

Your eyes are glued to Sana’s face as you enter her, and you relish the look of pleasure that washes over her small, cute features, twisting them pleasantly, her mouth opening and releasing a small gasp as you reach your hilt inside her body. You both take a moment to savor the new feeling of your coupling, but it is Sana who re-initiates your movement, twisting and rubbing her hips against yours in an attempt to convince you, without words, that it was okay for you to continue.

You are happy to oblige the young woman, and so you draw your shaft out of her tightly grasping pussy, watching intently as her lips grasp your cock as it withdraws from her body. Just as your cockhead is the only part left in her, you drive forward again into her with a soft, smooth thrust.

Soon you establish a steady rhythm, and you are fucking Sana with solid, smooth strokes, her tight, slim body rocking back and forth on the bed with every thrust. A steady stream of moans and gasps are the soundtrack to your session, the young woman having no qualms about giving voice to the steadily building pleasure washing over her body.

You watch the young woman intently, focusing on keeping the speed and depth of your thrusts consistent, remembering from your last time together that that was what she liked. She brings her hands down to her thighs, resting them on either side of her pussy and your thrusting cock; this had the added wonderful side effect of bringing her softly bouncing breasts closer together with her upper arms, and you watch intently as the soft mounds of flesh are rocked with each impact of your bodies.

“So good… it feels so good,” Sana gasps, the words half-gasps, “You fuck me so good. Don’t stop. Deeper.  Fuck me deeper.”

She raises her left leg so that her calf is resting against your right shoulder, lowering her right leg so that it is almost touching the floor. This changes the angle at which you are penetrating her, and allows you even deeper access into her body. You grip her raised leg and the thigh of her lowered leg, spreading them apart, relishing in the feel of soft flesh beneath your hands, and the deeper penetration you are able to achieve with her legs spread the way they were. You push forward with each thrust, drilling her tight, slick pussy as deeply as you are able.

“Yes! Just like that… just like that! You’re so deep… deep inside me!”

Sana lets her head fall back, and her back arches as she is wracked by a new wave of pleasure. She grasps your hand on her thigh with her own, the tightness of her grip betraying the pleasure coursing through her body. You fuck her in this position for a few long minutes, the both of you losing track of time, so lost are you both in the pursuit of pleasure. Both your eyes close for a moment, allowing nothing but the pleasure erupting from your joining to flood your minds.

Sana lets an uninterrupted stream of wordless, sultry moans leave her mouth, and you answer with the odd soft grunt of your own as you reach particular peaks of pleasure. Your bodies make sounds of their own, the wet thumping of your bodies crashing together joining with your moans to fill the room with the wordless sounds of intimacy. There are no words spoken, but eventually,  it is Sana that finds words to articulate her pleasure.

“I’m gonna.. I’m gonna cum!”

“Fuck, Sana,” you say, “I’m gonna cum too.”

You are somewhat embarrassed at the speed at which your orgasm is approaching, but the pleasure of the position, the wonderful sight of her body as it is rocked by each thrust into her, and the emotions infused into the evening are too much, too overwhelming, too difficult to fight when the alternative - the pleasure - was so easy to obtain.

Sana, thankfully, is the first to fall over the edge, and her back arches even more as she orgasms, her pussy contracting tightly around your shaft as she lets out a long, loud moan. You do your best to fight it, but you know you are only seconds away from orgasm.

“Fuck, Sana, I’m cumming,” you manage to say.

“Cum on me,” the young woman replies, still mid-orgasm, “cum all over me.”

The thought of doing anything else but obey her does not even enter your mind, so focused are you on your impending orgasm. You are just coherent enough to withdraw your cock from Sana’s slick pussy before grasping it with your left hand and pumping the wet shaft with your palm. Your orgasm soon washes over you, and you send thick, hot streams of semen all over Sana’s breasts and flat, tight stomach, painting her torso in creamy streaks of white.

You are still pumping your shaft with your hand, enjoying the last waves of pleasure erupting from your crotch, when you are finally able to open your eyes, even though you don’t remember closing them. You watch as Sana pants heavily on the bed, her limbs suddenly slack and weak - but you are happy to find a satisfied, if exhausted, look on her features.

The young woman bites her lip - an action that could not have been any more sexy, considering she was basking in the afterglow of sex, her breasts and torso painted with the evidence of it. With a slim, thin hand, she gathers a stream of your glistening, still-warm cum from where it has landed on her right breast, and, ensuring you are watching, she brings it to her mouth and licks it from her finger.

“You taste good,” she says softly, her voice a soft whisper, “Later I want you to cum in my mouth.”

---

A part of you wishes the mirror were visible from your current position, so that you could watch as Sana impales herself over and over on your cock. You want to watch the expression of pleasure written all over her cute features, want to watch her small, round breasts bounce up and down, want to watch every muscle of her long, perfectly shaped legs work to throw her body again and again against your cock. You especially wish you could have watched when she came, a minute earlier, her body writhing in pleasure as her pussy spasmed around your still-thrusting cock.

But you’ll have to content yourself with the almost equally alluring view of her sweaty back, as she rides you in a reverse cowgirl position; not that it was a particularly difficult position to enjoy, especially given the view of her round, full ass as she slams it down against your crotch. She may have slimmed down a little, but she managed to keep her curves where they counted, and as you slap her right cheek with an open palm, you are happy for that fact.

As you slap her ass, Sana throws her head back and lets out a long, sultry moan that might have been a Japanese word - it was hard to tell given her tone.

“You like that?” you ask, although you already knew what she would answer.

“Yes,” she says back, the word almost a hiss from her lips, “you like… you like fucking my pussy with your cock?”

“Fuck yes,”

“Good, now fuck it with your tongue.”

In a move that surprises you with its speed, Sana slips off your cock before shuffling her body downward - before you know it, your face is between her soft, warm thighs, and her pussy is mere inches away from your face.

You take a moment to savor the sight of her most intimate area - upside down, as it were - and find a lot to like in the way her lips are slightly splayed, having been penetrated by your shaft moments prior. Her entire crotch is moist with her juices, her pussy juicy and inviting, like a ripe fruit ready to be devoured.

Sana does not have your patience, however, and almost as soon as you are in a suitable position she has taken your cock, still drenched with her own juices, into her mouth. She wastes no time in establishing a quick rhythm, working the upper half of your cock with her lips and tongue and pumping the base of your shaft with a closed fist. She swirls her tongue around the tip and under the head; her position means her attention is focused on the top side of your shaft, and you find your cock is more sensitive to the new sensation.

You reciprocate eagerly, diving into her juicy pussy with your tongue, driving it as deep as it can go between her inviting lips, relishing the bittersweet taste of her juices as they flow into her mouth. You drink deeply of Sana’s most intimate area, your tongue exploring her body just as your cock did moments before. You press down on her ass with both hands, squeezing the round, tender flesh and pressing her pussy even deeper down on your face.

Eventually you find her clit, and your tongue presses against it, massaging it softly before reverting to giving it long, slow licks with as much of your tongue as you can. Simultaneously, you bring your right hand to her pussy, stroking her lips and penetrating it slightly.

Sana moans deeply around your cock, the vibration of the moan sending delicious tingles of pleasure around your shaft. She recovers quickly, and resumes her blowjob, unrelenting in her goal of pleasuring you.

“Fuck… you’re too good at that,” you manage to say. If Sana heard you, she made no move to relent or even acknowledge your comment, so absorbed is she in taking you in and out of her mouth.

“Sana… I’m getting close.”

At that, Sana lets your cock flop out of her mouth after one long, hard suck. Without a further word, she lifts her body off you and repositions herself between your spread legs. You regret for a moment the loss of her delicious pussy in front of your face, but the sight of her cute, beautiful face, now clouded with lust, between your legs convinces you that it wasn’t much of a loss.

“I want us to see each other when you come in my mouth,” she says softly, before immediately resuming her work - but this time, her eyes remain glued to yours, even as she takes your shaft in and out of her sweet lips.

It is all too much - all too fucking much to resist. The sight of her lips wrapped around your cock, the sight of her large, expressive eyes glued to yours, the sight of her thin fingers pumping up and down your shaft… it was too much.

“I’m cumming,” you manage to say, before your orgasm hits you harder than you were expecting and your cock pumps warm semen into Sana’s wet, waiting mouth. As she receives the first stream of cum she lifts her mouth off your shaft and presents her open mouth to you, allowing you to see the rest of your cum shoot directly onto her tongue and the back of her mouth - all the while, her eyes are glued to yours, watching as your face contorts in pleasure.

You manage, through the greatest of effort, to keep your eyes open and watching as you send cum into Sana’s open mouth. And you are satisfied beyond measure to watch as you finally finish cumming and she closes her mouth, her throat gulping the semen down her throat. When she opens her mouth again, she sticks out her pink tongue at you, confirming that she has swallowed it all.

“Next, I want it against the window, like the first time we fucked.”

With that, Sana hops off the bed, and you watch dumbfounded as her naked body heads to the washroom to clean up.

---

Hot. Wet. Tight. So, so tight.

Random words, but they all come to mind as you fuck Sana from behind, her tight, slim body pressed hard against the open hotel room window, her naked breasts pressed against the glass in a wanton, brazen display. You pump softly, slowly, partly from fatigue, but mostly from a need to prolong the moment and enjoy every sensation coursing throughout your body.

Sana, given the consistent stream of moans coming from her throat, felt much the same. Other girls only really made noise during when they hit certain peaks of pleasure, or perhaps to communicate something to you, but Sana was different - she started to gasp and moan the second you entered her, and the stream of gasps and moans didn’t end until you left her body. Her palms, pressed against the glass like the rest of her naked body, grasp and contort as though wanting to grip something - her body is speaking a language of its own, one that says this is it, this is all it wants.

The sounds coalesced into something resembling words as you increase the speed and depth of your thrusts slightly, enjoying the feel of her soft ass smacking against your crotch as your cock drills into her wet tightness.

“Yes… yes! Just like that… fuck me… fuck me like… like I’m the one.”

Her last words give you pause - what did she mean by that? But you have no time to consider further, as she continues.

“Yes! You… you fuck me so good. I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna cum… Oh!”

She cums again - not nearly as intense as her previous orgasms, but there is no denying the soft warmth of her pussy’s contractions as she reaches her peak, nor the sudden wetness that floods your softly thrusting cock. Her body shudders softly as she allows the waves to wash over her in an orgasm that is not powerful, but rather warm and soft and soothing.

“Sana, I want to cum in you,” you say matter of factly. You had yet to cum in her this night, and every fibre of your being wanted to. You knew she was making you wait, making you ask for it, making you need to bury your cum in her body. You look down, to where your bodies are grinding together, watching as your grip around her full waist tightens with your impending orgasm. Her pussy had always been amongst the tightest you had ever had, but it was especially so post-orgasm, and it was becoming almost unbearable, especially in this position.

Sana does not answer immediately, but she lets you thrust a few more times into her body before she responds, as though she were debating with herself whether to finally let you cum inside her,

“Do it,” she says softly, her eyes cast downward as the side of her head presses against the glass, “cum in me. Fill my body with your cum. Cum in me like you cum in her.”

You only barely hear her last words - your orgasm takes you by surprise, and the only thing you are aware of is the last thrust you make into her body before you tumble over the edge and your cock spasms, sending stream after stream of hot semen finally, mercifully, into Minatozaki Sana’s tight, slick, willing body.

Sana lets out a soft gasp as she feels you empty yourself inside her and the warmth of your cum floods her pussy. You slump against her body as the fatigue of the evening sets in, pressing her naked body against the cold glass. You plant a soft kiss on the back of her neck.

Neither of you say anything, for neither of you can find the words. Eventually, you both find yourselves back in the bed, and Sana presses herself against you as you both find merciful bliss in sleep.

---

When you next wake, the first thing you are aware of is the emptiness next to you.

You shake the haziness of sleep away from your head as you make out the shape of Sana standing at your hotel room door, leaning with one hand on the wall as she slips her right heel onto her slim foot.

Realizing that she had nothing but a short black cocktail dress and heels to keep her warm in the chilly Seoul autumn morning, you grab your blue hoodie from the chair next to the hotel room door. You drape it over her shoulders, and she slips her thin arms into the sleeves and zips it up. She ties the loose hood drawstrings into a cute bow at her neck - Sana had been many things over the short time you’d known her, but even now, in the last moments of your time together, she was still almost unbearably adorable.

“Thank you,” she says, “although you might never get this back.”

“That’s a very expensive hoodie,” you lie, knowing it wasn’t, “and I expect you to personally give it back to me someday.”

Sana doesn’t answer, and offers only a sad smile in reply.

“Have a safe flight tomorrow,” she says, although her words are already heavy with sadness, her tone wavering. You both knew that the next few moments might be the last you’d ever see of each other, and the burden of that knowledge weighed heavily on both your minds.

“I will. I’ll let you know when we get home.”

Sana nods, sadly - her lips quiver slightly, and it is only then that you realize you used the word ‘we’, and that she probably took it to mean that you were speaking with Momo in mind, now that you were a couple.

“Sana, I-”

“Don’t,” she interrupts, holding up a hand, as if to physically stop you from speaking further. Her hand, her small, thin hand, wavers slightly, as though she were struggling to keep it in the air without shaking. After a second she gives up, and drops her hand for fear of betraying the fact that she was just barely keeping it together.

“I’d rather we left on good terms,” she explains, “and without any drama. You don’t have to explain anything. You chose her, not me. I need to accept that.”

Sana pauses for a second, as if to gather what little strength and composure she had left. After awhile she looks up at you, her eyes glassy and wet with tears, her sheer will being the only thing keeping them from falling onto porcelain cheeks. She opens her mouth and her next words that escape her lips are just above a whisper:

“...I hope she makes you happy.”

The English language fails to give voice to your feelings, and you can do nothing but nod softly in reply.

“Good night,” she says softly.

“Oyasumi,” you answer.

She holds your gaze for a moment more before she turns, slowly, to face the door. She places a hand upon the knob, and as if it were the most painful thing in the world for her to do, she turns it and opens the door slightly. Her hand stays on the doorknob, frozen there by fear and uncertainty and sadness. You can see that she is gripping the metal knob tightly, as though she were leaning on it for support and letting go of it would cause her to collapse.

Sana turns her head slightly, the light from the hallway illuminating her profile against the darkness of your hotel room. The light reflects off the tears that have finally spilled over her cheeks, each one a betrayal of the composure she was trying to exude. Her eyes are sad, but there is a wistfulness in them, as though she were picturing things in her mind’s eye; days and nights filled with you that would never be.

“If you’d asked, I would have moved overseas for you,” she says softly, every word painful for you to hear, and even more painful for her to say. There is a soft smile on her beautiful lips, although there is no happiness in it.

She lets the silence linger in the air for a moment before continuing.

“We would’ve been happy together.”

She opens the door fully and walks out into the hallway. You want to say something, want to grab her by the arm and tell her that those things are still possible; but your body fails you, and it is all you could do to lean on the doorframe as she walks away.

You watch helplessly as Minatozaki Sana turns the hallway corner and disappears - out of your sight, out of the hotel, and out of your life.

---

Author’s Note: Man, that chapter was heavy. :(

[jincherie]

florescence | ii

❀ — pairing: taehyung x reader x seokjin ❀ — genre: hybrid au, hybrid tae, hybrid jin, poly au, fluff, smut (future), angst ❀ — words: 6.8k+ ❀ — rating: sfw ❀ — warnings: more shy and blushing boys, maybe a little tugging of the heartstrings towards the end u know how it is ❀ — notes: another hybrid taejin update!! i decided to throw this up since I’m working on fox rain and aiming to have it out this weekend, but just in case I’d like to publish at least something,, you know??? anyway I hope you all like this part!! man was it a mess before i edited and fiddled with it fhbjfbjf please let me know if there are any sudden cut off sentences lol

Okay, so maybe you’re lonely, and maybe there is something missing in your life, a void that you maybe want to fill with a companion that may or may not be of human origin… You’re perfectly content not doing anything about it though, until your best friend calls you in desperate need for your help and you suddenly end up coming home with not one, but two hybrids that may or may not have been on the way to the chopping block had you not taken them in. They’re more than a little rough around the edges, and the situation is less than ideal but… maybe the best things don’t always come in perfect, shiny packages. Maybe they just need a little time to bloom.

— posted; 29.08.2019 // masterlist || prev. | next.

In the first three days at your home, the hybrids are… somewhat withdrawn. They don’t shun you or ignore you, but are notably wary in your presence, hesitant to act when around you. They’re both somewhat shy, Taehyung markedly more so than Seokjin, and while you long to talk to them and try and ease them into their new lifestyle a bit more, you try to hold yourself back and give them the space they need to adjust on their own. You know it takes time.

It’s hard, though, and at several times throughout the three days, you find yourself wondering—should they really be this shy?

You’re new, this situation is new, everything is new to them. Shyness is expected. You know that, but… you can’t help but feel something is off. Something doesn’t add up, and while you haven’t figured out exactly what yet, you’re keen to pinpoint it soon.

The first day they spent in your home, was essentially nothing more than a night since you really only brought them home that night. The next day though, the second day, the two hybrids wake early and spend hours wandering around and taking in every little scent and inspecting every item in your house, allowing themselves to grow as familiar as they can. You notice that they seem to take turns leading each other and choosing where to go, but they never part. You notice with spark of affection, that Taehyung grasps Seokjin’s sleeve out of habit as he follows him, gazing around with wide eyes and waddling behind him like a little duckling. When it is his turn to explore, he leads the other male with the same soft grip on his sleeve. You think it mustn’t be unusual since Seokjin doesn’t even bat a lash.

Other than exploring, the two hybrids seem content to nap and cuddle with each other, mostly on the bed in their room. It brings a smile to your face when you walk past and catch sight of them, Seokjin clutching Taehyung’s shirt in his sleep, and Taehyung hugging him like a stuffed toy. Taehyung is quiet, but Seokjin is letting out soft snores that, were he a feline hybrid, you might mistake for purrs.

When they wake, you ask them what they want for dinner tonight, and for the days coming, but even in this, they’re hesitant to voice their desires.

“Is there anything you really like?” you ask, pushing gently for an answer you can work with. “Any dish or type of food?”

“Uhm…” Seokjin blinks, eyes flicking from you to the ceiling, and then back to you. “I… It’s okay. We’re happy to eat whatever is being served. You d-don’t have to go out of your way to…”

“Seokjin, it’s not a bother,” you say, hoping to remind him that you chose to take them home. “I’m asking because I’m happy to make it, or buy it. Is there something you like?”

It takes a few pointed looks and verbal prompts before Seokjin finally admits his love for meat and ramen dishes. You also learn that Taehyung really likes healthy meals, with meat and vegetables, but he also likes desserts. Of course, it isn’t Taehyung that tells you this, but Seokjin. The russet-haired hybrid still refuses to talk to you. Deep down, you’re a little frustrated, and a little sad and hurt both at Taehyung’s silence and the distant, withdrawn behaviour of the two, but you know it’s unreasonable to feel that way. You understand that whatever experiences they have had in the lab aren’t ones that are easily forgotten in just one night. You can only hope that eventually they will allow themselves to open up a little more and will just bear with it in the meantime.

Later in the night, after eating the ramen you cooked up for the three of you, you plan to go sit with them and ask their opinions for some clothes, since you need to order them.  Currently they only have a few sets between them and to you, that’s unacceptable. You’d like to go out to an outlet or shopping centre with them to get them a wardrobe of things they like, but also know to wait until after they have settled in a bit more. Still, in the meantime they need some clothes to wear that aren’t plain white and almost threadbare. So after tucking away the last plate into the dishwasher and turning it on, you gather your laptop and turn towards their room—except you don’t get very far, barely even a step, before you stop in place.

The door is shut. It seems they’ve retreated for the night.

A little bummed but ultimately understanding, you call out a soft ‘goodnight’ and move to your own room. You think you hear Seokjin call softly back, and although you’re not sure, you’re willing to take what you can get.

Since they weren’t there to supervise your choices, you only buy them two outfits each. You know a few economic clothing sites that cater to hybrids, so the dent in your wallet isn’t too big—you know it will be when you eventually take them out for a big shop, though. If you start preparing yourself for the pain now, it will probably hurt a little less in the future.

Humming to yourself, you sit and browse for a little over an hour, sifting through the many tabs you opened so you’d have all your favourites in front of you. For Seokjin, you end up placing some dark jeans and loose pants, along with a grey hoodie with fluffy insides and a peachy light orange long-sleeved shirt, into your cart. You don’t have much basis for your decisions, except that you thought they would suit him and they weren’t too garish or out-there. When you choose Taehyung’s, it is a little harder if only because he’s a bit more difficult to read. You end up selecting some loose black pants and jeans, the same as Seokjin, and a soft-looking dark green button-up, as well as a fluffy hoodie. You have a feeling he’ll appreciate the comfort aspects more than anything. The sizes you chose were a bit of an in-the-moment guestimate, but hopefully they won’t be too far off the mark.

You bought them online, so you’re not really expecting them any time soon—you took time off work the night you brought the boys home so you don’t have to worry about the delivery coming when you’re not here. Well, that is, unless it’s incredibly late and comes in two week’s time or more. Hopefully it will arrive within the two weeks you took off, though. You don’t think you’d get away with asking for more time, even though your job isn’t all that traditional and it’s common knowledge that although each hybrid is different, they all need an adjustment period of sorts to settle into their new home and initiate and complete the bonding process. You’d managed to get two weeks without a problem, but you feel as though any longer than that would be pushing it.

Contrary to what you expected, the clothes actually arrive the very next morning. You’re fresh out of the shower, dressed for the day ahead, and entering the living room where the hybrids are curled tentatively on the couch, when you hear a decisively loud set of knocks. The two hybrids flinch, Seokjin almost falling off the cushion of the couch from the extent of his reaction. Biting your lip to hide your smile, since it was funny but also you don’t want to embarrass him, you make your way to the door and peek through the peephole before letting out a surprised noise and swinging it open right away, accidentally bumping the handle into the wall in your haste. Yikes, hopefully it didn’t dent.

“Miss—?!” Seokjin’s alarmed voice sounds from the living room, and you hear him scrambling from the couch and rushing over. You must have startled him by swinging the door open so quickly and making such a ruckus.

“Delivery for Miss y/n l/n?” It’s an elder gentleman at your door, dressed in the uniform of the company that usually delivers your packages. In his arms is a large box, the site you bought the clothes from last night displayed on the sticker.

“Oh, that’s me!” you smile at him, and he returns it kindly. You take the box from his hold, awkwardly shuffling it under one arm so that you can sign his little digital delivery pad. “Thank you very much!”

“No problem.” You receive another smile, and then the postman is nodding his head in farewell and returning down the path to wherever he parked his van.

Making sure to wait a moment to be polite, you close the door once he is far enough and direct your gaze to the box in your arms as you turn around. This is probably why you don’t see Seokjin and Taehyung straight away, and why you let out a short, startled scream as you look up and catch sight of them hovering closely. They jump in response to your scream, and you can’t help the sudden laugh that rises at the situation.

“Sorry! Sorry, didn’t mean to scream,” you say, trying to meet their eyes as you speak. You manage to catch Taehyung’s for a split second before he tears them away, his cheeks colouring slightly as he ducks his head. Well, you’re counting that as a little victory.

“Who… Who was that?” Seokjin asks, seeming torn between curiosity and concern as he tilts to peer at the door behind you.

“It was the postman,” you explain with a smile, holding out your hand for him to take on instinct as you move past him. He doesn’t notice it for a moment, but when he does he stiffens and his wide-eyes whip to your face. Realising what you’ve done, and somewhat embarrassed by how your hand was just hanging there, you retract it and turn back in the direction you’re walking, clearing your throat.  “He was delivering something I ordered. It came so quickly! I’m sorry if you were surprised, if I’d known it was coming today I would have told you ahead of time.”

“It’s okay…” Seokjin begins, his sentence trailing suddenly. You hear shuffling behind you as you continue into the kitchen, a whisper that sounded suspiciously like Seokjin brushing your ears. You reach the kitchen table and turn back just as Seokjin is pulling his head away from Taehyung’s, tall ears flicking. Seokjin’s dark eyes catch your own, teeth sinking into his lip for a moment as though he’s mulling over whether to voice this next thing or not. He seems to decide to voice whatever is on his mind, “Um, w-what did you order?”

“I’m glad you asked,” you say, smile warming. “It’s actually something for the two of you.”

They’re still for a moment as your words sink in, but the second they do the hybrids are perking up. Taehyung’s eyes have adopted a light glimmer, ears straight upright amongst his russet locks and betraying his interest. Seokjin is looking at you in a similar manner, except with much more shock displayed across his handsome features.

Grasping your keys, you use the pointy end to cut through the tape on the box, excited to give them their clothes so they’d have something that wasn’t plain and white to wear. You turn back to them, open box in your arms and a bright smile on your face.

“F-For us?” the charcoal-haired hybrid finally stutters, his fluffy tail whipping behind him and his ears tilting down slightly. You panic, smile dropping as you interpret his body language as upset. His hands come together, grasping each other. “You bought something f-for us?”

“Ah, yeah…” you bite your lip, eyes flicking between the two of them. “I bought you some clothes because you need them, and I was going to buy them with you but you were asleep so— I, uh, I’m sorry if this upsets you.”

Taehyung’s eyes widen, before he turns his gaze to his friend and smacks him on the back. Seokjin jerks, gasping in realisation.  “Oh no, no please don’t be sorry! It’s… It’s just… well we haven’t really gotten anything like this before… Or, well, anything...”

It takes a moment for his words to sink in, and when they do you’re overcome with an overwhelming combination of anger at the injustice of it and sadness at the realisation that with the life they’ve had so far, of course such a situation would never arrive. Who, in a lab, is going to take the extra time to buy them personalised clothes and items? The answer is no one, and it saddens you. Well, you suppose, time for that to change.

“I see,” you say, mulling over how to say what you want next. You allow a cheeky smile to slide onto your lips “Well… this isn’t the only thing I plan on getting you, so you better get used to it quick.”

Both males’ cheeks burn bright at that, but you can tell that your words make the two of them happy. You nod your head towards the box still in your arms. “Well, do you want to see what I got you?”

Sharing a look, the two hybrids nod hastily before shyly coming up and peering into the cardboard box. The first item you can see on top is one of the pants, and you tell them to take them out, explaining what you got for each of them as they do.

Their eyes are bright and tails lashing in glee as they survey the bundle of clothes in their arms, despite how small it is. Seokjin asks if they can try them on, and when you answer, “of course!”, he is quick to grab Taehyung by the sleeve and drag him back to the room. From there, they try on both pants and shirts you bought for them.

Each time they come out to show the outfit, blushing but still bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, you move closer to make sure each article fits properly, and that they’re not too tight or uncomfortable around parts like their tails. Both hybrids go completely pink when you ask and help them check that, the colour even going so far as to stain their necks. Ultimately, it seems your tiny haul was a good one. The pants all fit, and the shirts too—well, for the most part. Taehyung’s fit nicely, loose enough to be comfortable and breathable, but you’d overestimated sizing a little bit when you’d factored in Seokjin’s broad shoulders. The hoodie and shirt are a little oversized on him, but to your surprise he seems to like it like that. A soft smile curls at his lips as he looks down and wriggles the tips of his fingers where they’re visible peaking out of his sweater-paws.

Both hybrids are smiling, seeming content at their gifts, but still… you want to put to rest the niggling question in the back of your mind that asks, what if you messed up and they don’t actually like them? Clearing your throat, you catch the hybrids’ attention easily from where you are, leaning against the table.

“We’ll get more things for you to wear another day, but for now… I hope these are enough.” You rub the back of your neck, suddenly feeling a bit bashful. “Do you… do you like them?”

Seokjin blinks, before straightening and taking a few steps forward. “Yes! Yes I… I really like them. They’re soft, and comfy. They smell a little odd, but it’s just because they’re new!”

His answer makes you smile a little, a flush of affection washing over your chest at how cute he is. “Ah, I’m glad. I really—oh!”

You freeze in place, hands almost slipping from their grip on the table in surprise. You very suddenly register Taehyung very close to your face and feel the tip of his nose brush your cheek, making your heart stutter. His nose is soon replaced with a brief brush of something wet that drags quickly over your skin, leaving you reeling as Taehyung pulls back with crimson cheeks and takes one look at you before turning tail and scuttling back towards his room. He disappears around the corner, the sound of the door shutting softly greeting the air moments later. Both you and Seokjin stand in shock for a moment.

“Oh…” Seokjin seems bewildered, but something akin to cheekiness glimmers briefly in his dark eyes. You feel your face begin to flush with heat as the realisation sinks in that Taehyung just licked your cheek. “Uh… he likes them too.”

Unsure what to say to that, you merely let out a grunt. Well, certainly not how you expected this scenario to play out. You can’t deny the tiny spark of hope that has spawned in your chest, though. Time, you just need to give them time.

x     x     x     x     x     x     x

‘Guidebook for Subjects of Batch #2991

Subject: F1204— Kim Seokjin Additional DNA: Canidae—Vulpes Vulpes Approved for progression beyond laboratory?: Yes ☐  No ☒ Observations/reasoning: Unlike ‘littermates’, subject failed to demonstrate initiation of imprinting and bonding procedure despite ample fodder and presented opportunities—did not respond to attempts from Handlers to induce natural protocol. Unclear whether from inability or refusal. Subject is also only one from litter possessing mutated colour variant in animal DNA—presents as ‘silver fox’ rather than expected ‘red fox’. Subject meets all other aesthetic requirements and has been observed to play previously, however subject is shyer, more withdrawn than littermates and will not play with humans. Does not meet aims and requirements of batch for suitable companionship, cannot be moved forward in procedure. Not approved for next stage.’

‘Guidebook for Subjects of Batch #5991

Subject: D1230— Kim Taehyung Additional DNA: Canidae— Cuon Alpinus Approved for progression beyond laboratory?: Yes ☐  No ☒ Observations/reasoning: Demonstrates unwillingness/inability to initiate imprinting and bonding procedure when in optimal environment and presented with ideal cues. Completely contradictory to social nature of the animal this batch is spliced with (Dhole/Asiatic Wild Dog), subject presents as incredibly shy and withdrawn with marked refusal to speak when interacted with. Subject appears to get along with littermates however is observed to withdraw completely around handlers and other human figures. Testing reveals larynx and speech organs functioning within normal limits, however subject refuses to use them. Aesthetic requirements of batch are met. Subject demonstrates refusal/inability to bond with humans and incredibly shy and withdrawn countenance, and therefore does not meet requirements for ideal companionship of this batch overall. Subject not approved for progression to the next stage.’

-

Over the past few days, the two hybrids have begun slowly unfreezing and allowing themselves to grow a little closer to you, bit by bit. You’re not trying to complain—you’re overjoyed at the progress actually—but scrolling through your social media feeds and seeing your friends with their own hybrids makes you remember all the stories you’d heard from when they first got their hybrids, and when you compare them to your own…. You can’t deny how they don’t match up. You can tell that both hybrids are shy, but you’ve never heard of anyone else having a hybrid that was shy to this extent. You’re actually a little confused too, because as far as you know from what Seulgi has told you in the past, all hybrids are created with the inner drive and instinct to bond with their owner, or at least someone that is closest to them. It’s a process that is set in motion in the first few weeks of them living in their new home, and it’s a somewhat obvious process, for most hybrid species. The need for a bond usually overrides any shyness or hesitance the hybrid may have within the first few days, but you’ve not noticed anything like what you’ve read and heard the start of the process to be like in either Seokjin or Taehyung, who has steadfastly remained silent and has yet to speak to you or hold your gaze for more than three seconds at a time. You went to search on the internet, wanting to know whether it was normal for their hybrid types, but then you realised that you didn’t actually know what kind of hybrid they even were.

That was when you’d remembered that you have such a thing as their hybrid guidebooks, and you’d promptly upturned your room searching for wherever you’d left them.

The hybrid guidebooks, made by the lab and the workers who created them with the facts of their creation along with observations on them from conception onwards. It didn’t take you too long to find them, and as soon as you did you plopped down and dove in. It was already late and as far as you knew the hybrids in question had already headed to bed, so you felt safe to read them. It was only just now that you finished reading them, and in all honesty, you think you might be about to cry.

With each book, when you went to read the next page, you were shocked to find it completely blank. A quick flick through the remaining pages revealed very much the same thing. The book isn’t all that thick, but still you’re surprised at the magnitude of pages left untouched. Perhaps they are left there for you to make your own observations? Seulgi should have told you it would be as unhelpful as it is helpful. It takes you less than a minute to reread all the meagre information provided to you, your heart clenching and sinking in your chest.

Seokjin was deemed a failure because his animal features hadn’t been the same as the others in his batch and he was reserved around humans, and Taehyung’s extreme shyness had been his downfall— and because they were deemed a failure due to those “faults”, they’d almost been sent to their death just days ago.

You blink, feeling a stray tear slip from the corner of your eye and drip down your cheekbone. Rage and disgust fill you in a violent, roiling motion before it disappears and leaves an empty ache. That isn’t fair at all. It’s no fault of their own that they didn’t meet whatever ridiculous requirements the lab held for them, and it is completely and utterly unfair the life they’ve been given so far. You slam the booklets down on the bed, taking a moment to allow your remaining tears to fall and the sadness their profiles had elicited to settle. Once you’re sure you are a little calmer, you allow yourself to ponder the information you’ve learned.

As much as you dislike the implications of what you read, it does explain a lot—knowing their breeds helps a bit, and also explains the act of thanks Taehyung saw fit to bestow upon you when you gave him clothes, but you’re also somewhat relieved at the knowledge that the way they’re acting isn’t because of you, per se, but rather is part of their observed and already-existing behaviour before meeting you. Still, a part of you longs to get closer to them and begin easing down the walls they have up— but you suppose with their personalities it may take a while. You’re willing to wait and do what you can to ensure they’re happy and content in the meantime, but still… Your mind can’t help but come back to the parts that seemed to stick with you the most.

Refusal to initiate bonding process. The question lingers in your mind, but you aren’t sure if you want to know the answer— what happens if your hybrids never imprint or bond with you?

Something heavy presses over your chest at that, and you feel your lips tug down of their own accord. It’s probably better if you don’t worry about things like that so early on. They’ve only been here a few days, after all. Flicking your bedside light off, you settle back into the covers and resign yourself to finally going to sleep, even if it’s hours after you probably should have. You’ll sleep now, and when you wake in the morning you’re going to do your very best to make sure that these two hybrids have everything they want and need and that they feel comfortable and safe in your home.

And if you can manage to get even just a little bit closer to them, that’s a plus too.

x     +     x     +     x

You spend the next day researching more on hybrids and the animals they’re spliced with and amassing a long list of things that you think will probably help them grow more comfortable and feel more at home here with you. You also intend to stock up on food that you’ve noted they like, getting some extra things as treats. You don’t imagine they ever had the chance to try caramel popcorn at the laboratory. Initially you’d only intended to make a small list, but now the one you have scribbled down is pretty impressive with its size. Watching the money come out of your bank account is going to hurt, but you’ll make it back soon enough and you’d rather spend it on them than anything else. Still, you make sure to shorten it a little bit down to some ‘essentials’ that can be retrieved in one quick trip.

You don’t have to bother being sneaky with your researching, because the hybrids stay holed up in their room or bathing in the sun in small courtyard around your front door area—you note that Taehyung in particular seems to enjoy that, always appearing the picture perfect definition of ‘at peace’ whenever he curls into the hammock you have there and lets his eyes flutter closed. He still hasn’t spoken to you, and since you know that’s not exactly… unusual for him now that you’ve read his guidebook, you do your absolute best to let go of the tiny shreds of hurt you feel each time he withholds his voice from you.

Ever since you introduced your television and Netflix to Seokjin, his favourite place has become the plush black couch pressed in the corner of the living room where he proceeds to watch a number of things from cartoons to crappy soap operas to cooking shows. It is in these moments that his guard lowers and you catch him grinning openly, and part of you wants so badly to take the opportunity to talk to him a bit more but you can’t… bring yourself to. You don’t want to ruin and intrude upon the little bubble of comfort that he has built for himself here. You just have to be patient, and wait for that bubble to gradually expand and encompass you as well. No big deal, you can do it.

Still, even though you reassure yourself with those words you can’t help the tiny part of you that fears still—what if they never grow used to you? What if they never accept you, never let you in? The prospect of it is a bit gutting—these are now technically your hybrids, this was your one chance at finding a good companion and even if they never warm up to you, you can’t just give them away. You made a commitment, took a chance, and if it turns out that they don’t take to you then the cold reality is that your one chance will have been blown.

Suddenly deciding you’ve had enough of thoughts like that and need a breath of fresh air, you gather your list and grab your bag. You know that you’d be better off staying and spending time with them, since they’re not secure in their environment yet, but… you’re also torn between that and giving them more space to get habituated. You war with yourself for a while, but eventually come to the decision that you may as well go and get everything now while there is still enough time left in the day. You can zip in and out and be back before they even know you’re gone, you reason. A feeling in your gut tells you that you probably shouldn’t, but the urge to step out for a moment and get some things that potentially might make the hybrids happier is stronger than you can ignore and you find yourself scribbling a quick note to let the hybrids know where you are in case they actually notice you’re gone.

You pass Seokjin on the way to the door, and he spares you a brief glance that you take as the opportunity to flash him a smile. He flushes at once, instantly whipping his head back around to face the TV as he avoids your eyes in what seems to be embarrassment. You catch it as he curls further into the cushioning, hands gripping the soft orange material of his shirt and his fluffy speckled obsidian tail coming to curl over his lap. Smiling to yourself, you place the note in your hold onto the kitchen table as you pass and then slip quietly out of the house. Taehyung isn’t on the hammock so you presume he is in the room inside.

In the note you essentially told them you were stepping out for a bit, and not to worry because you’d be back soon. You don’t really think much of it and considering how aloof they’ve been overall, you assume they won’t even miss you while you’re gone. The most you expect is a brief thought wondering where you went.

It seems you are fated to be proven wrong, however. While you only meant to be gone for maybe an hour, an hour and a half, the trip itself for everything you have on the list takes a bit longer than intended. When you arrive home, your arms laden with bags, it’s getting to late afternoon and you’re surprised the second you step inside to find the two hybrids waiting anxiously by the door with wide eyes.

“Mistress!” Seokjin steps forward, and you presume it’s the alarm colouring his tone that causes him to forget what you told him the other day about calling you that. Taehyung trembles behind him, looking at you with big glossy eyes for a moment before darting forward and taking some of the bags from your hold wordlessly, ferrying them to the kitchen. You don’t doubt he’s still listening as Seokjin continues, a waver present in his smooth voice that makes your chest ache. “Wh-where did you go? Why did you go? Wh-what—”

You flounder, arms too full for you to comfort him as your instincts scream for you to. You panic when you see his eyes glossing, the first signs of tears beginning to gather at the corner. Heart lurching into your throat, you dart to the kitchen and deposit the bags by the bench before turning to comfort Seokjin—and nearly running straight into him as he’d been hot on your heels the second you moved.

“Oh, Seokjin,” you murmur as you take in the sudden crestfallen expression on his handsome features. The panic returns as you see the first fat tear roll down his cheek; you realise quickly that it’s something much more than a brief trip to the shops without them on your end that has him so worked up. Your hands fly to grasp his own, holding them gently—his fingers clutch back desperately. “Oh, Seokjin— hey, it’s okay. I’m so sorry. I left you a note so that you’d know—what’s wrong? Please tell me why you’re upset.”

The male had been holding it together somewhat before you spoke, but the second your words brush his ears he can no longer hold back his sniffles and the wobbling of his chin, his ears flattening almost completely against his head. You witness the conflict on his features, the way his arms twitch with the urge to take his hands back yet the way he also leans into your touch, shuffling closer unconsciously. You suspect he doesn’t know what he wants let alone what’s going on, and you feel even worse that he’s gotten so upset on your watch.

“Did you go to return us?” he asks, avoiding your question, voice clear despite its wobble and the sob that climbs his throat. He tears one hand away to rub at his eyes, sobbing into his shirt sleeve like he is ashamed that you’re seeing him like this. “D-did you go to see if you could t-take us ba-ack?!”

You can feel the horror distort your features as his words registered in your mind—did he think that? Did they both think that? You left them a note, you didn’t realise they’d… oh, god.

“Why would I want to return you, Seokjin?” you ask softly, meeting his eyes and aching at the heartbreak you find in their amber-hued depths. “Why would I want to take you back?”

He clenches his eyes shut, biting his lip to contain the whimpers climbing his throat, but to no avail. They all come spilling out when he opens his mouth to answer you, his shoulders curving as he curls in on himself slightly.

“Because we’re failures,” he sobs, lifting his arm to hide his face in his elbow again. Each word that slips from his mouth flings another shard of pain to pierce your heart. “We didn’t pass the requirements, we’re not fit to be c-hic-companions. I-If no one at the lab or at a shelter wants us, then why would you?”

You’re speechless for a moment as he cries into his arm, your eyes wide as you flounder for what to do, how to proceed. Fuck it all, you decide. You’re going to go with your instincts for once.

“Oh, Seokjin,” you coo sadly, tugging him to you by the hand; you release it once he’s close enough, slipping your arms around his waist and pulling him close. You rest your chin over his shoulder, guiding his head down to your neck. “Come here.”

He stiffens instantly, and you almost worry he’s going to tear out of your hold before he lets out another heaving sob and buries his face in your neck where it meets your shoulder, arms coming to clutch you desperately. You can feel his ear pressing against the side of your head as you coo, rubbing his back with one hand and using the other to card softly through the hair at the base of his neck. He absolutely melts into your arms.

“Seokjin, I didn’t go to return you, and I am so sorry for anything I did that led you to believe that.” You rest your head against his slightly, letting out a soft noise when he tightens his hold at the action. “I’m sorry for what happened to you before you came here, but please believe me when I say I’m going to do my best to make sure you feel safe, and happy, and loved here. I won’t ever return you, or Taehyung. You aren’t failures, you don’t fall short. You’re perfect and I’m glad I ended up with the opportunity to meet you. Okay?”

While your words did serve to comfort the male in your arms, they also made him sob that bit louder and harder into your shoulder. You turn, catching sight of Taehyung staring at you from the kitchen threshold with tears a split second from falling in his eyes and his bottom lip wobbling uncontrollably. You open your arm to him wordlessly and he doesn’t hesitate to dart forward and join Seokjin in clinging to your form, shoving his face into the other side of your neck. You hear him sniffling, can feel his chest wrack with sobs, but you don’t hear him wail as Seokjin does.

You do your best to soothe them both as much as possible, running your fingers through the hair at the back of their necks and rubbing over their broad backs. With Seokjin’s words from earlier, you realise that this whole time part of their distance has likely been due to the fact they thought you weren’t going to keep them. They were scared to get settled in and accept you, because if they did and then you turned them away, it would break their hearts. Your very first meeting you’d swooped in just in the nick of time to save them from a glorified execution, for crying out loud. You don’t doubt that the situation they’ve been in is one that led to a lot of feelings of inadequacy and unworthiness—you can kind of understand the thought pattern that can result, and once more the realisation of how they must be feeling truly saddens you.  

You guide them to the living room, easing onto the bigger couch that occupies the space, and the two of them waste no time in curling onto it next to you, very much still clinging to your form. Gradually, with many whispered assurances that you aren’t going to return them, they are here for good or as long as they want to be, you manage to soothe their sobbing until it is just the occasional hiccup and sniffle that pierces the air. From your position between them, caged in by their arms and the faces pressed to your neck still, you can see their ears flicking and shifting from the corner of your eyes and have to squash the urge that rises within you to pet and scratch them. Someone once told you it was considered rude to do so, and you try and keep that in mind as you do your best to refrain from giving in.

As you peer out the window and take note of the darkened skies, it is with regret that you begin to shift between them. Seokjin lets out a low whine, Taehyung silent but his grip tightening around you.

“Are you feeling better?” you ask, voice soft. It’s directed at both of them, although you’re only expecting one vocal answer.

“Yes,” Seokjin croaks, pulling away with a sniffle and averting his eyes. It seems his actions are finally catching up with him, along with the resulting embarrassment they appear to cause him. “Th-thank you m—y/n.”

You feel Taehyung nod against you, but contrary to what you expect him to do next he actually burrows his face deeper into your neck. It takes you a moment to think of why he does that instead of pulling away, when you feel the heat of his cheeks against your skin and realise he probably is also embarrassed and just doesn’t know how to act about it. You turn and press a kiss to his scalp, close to his ear, and pull Seokjin back to plant one on his forehead. He lets out a squeak, hand slapping to his forehead as he stares at you with impossibly wide amber eyes. Violent pink flushes his face and you almost stop and wonder if he’s actually okay for a moment.

“I’m glad,” you say, meeting the hybrid’s eyes so that he can see how serious you are. “I don’t intend on giving you back, Seokjin. Please tell me next time when you’re worried about such things—both of you—and I’ll do my best to make you feel better, okay?”

They both nod, Taehyung finally pulling away with burning cheeks and averted eyes. You can’t help the fond smile that slips onto your cheeks. Considering how embarrassed they are right now at the emotional mess they just were and how desperately they’re trying to reclaim the distance between you, you decide to let them off the hook and move on to the subject that always seemed to catch their attention.

“Alright, now that you’re both feeling a bit better—how about we make dinner? I got some snacks and there’s a movie I’m going to watch after, if you want you can join me.”

You don’t think you’ve ever seen anyone’s face change from downtrodden to excited as quickly as theirs do. Laughing, you rise and drift to the kitchen with the two beautiful boys trailing after you, and go about showing them how much you care in one of the ways you’re best at. Dinner is made with them tending to every task you ask of them, and once the food is in your tummies and the table is cleared the three of you move to the couch, snacks in tow.

When the movie begins to get into the swing of things, you feel the two hybrids inch closer on the couch, and can’t help your smile. A part of you aches as you imagine how they must have felt earlier, but you can’t help but hope that from this point onwards, they’ll finally begin to warm up to you like you long for. You want them to feel safe and happy, like they deserve, and damn it if you won’t do everything in your power to make that a reality.

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p.s; please let me know what u think! and if u like this, please let me know by liking and/or reblogging!! it doesn’t seem like much, but I’ve been struggling with a bit of a low mood lately and tbh it’s the little things like seeing people enjoy my stuff that help keep me afloat 

if you’d like to support me, feel free to send me a kofi and aid my poor uni student ass :’) thank u for reading, ily!