#w...which.... turns out to be extremely and uncomfortably accurate.........

[sanerontheinside]

themoosejthm replied to your post: yo let’s play a game which Senator would burn for...

for the lulz: Padme Amidala and her comms are all her gooey love love messages to Anakin. BECAUSE SUBTLETY

*cackling* dammit Padmé XD 

[kingexpl0sionmurder]

Clouds - Shirakumo Oboro

Author: @kingexpl0sionmurder​ Rating: 16+ Words:  5,674 Pairing: Shirakumo Oboro/F!Reader Warnings: Nudity, sexual innuendo, kissing, Oboro has no shame honestly. No spoilers here, I just mention his friends and his quirk a little! AN: Here is my entry for this month’s BNHarem server collab! The theme was Fantasy, so have this Greek Mythology AU where I basically floundered through ancient Greek customs and got to think about EraserCloudMic being best friends and Demigods. I don’t promise that any of this is historically accurate but I did try to get some things right! It’s all in good fun anyway, I just needed some nice fluff and some time to play around with Oboro because I love him a lot. Listen to the song Clouds by Borns pls and thanks. As always, the masterlist to check out everyone else’s stuff is HERE. My masterlist is HERE.

Buy me a Ko-Fi HERE.

--

You’d never experienced a drought this severe before.

The weather had become so unbearably hot. Even your lightest tunic was too much, and you had resorted to wearing as little as possible when you were home, spending as much time as you could in the nearby river to keep cool. 

However, the river seemed to be getting shallower, the lack of rain causing the water source to dry up.

The entirety of the small village that you resided on the outskirts of was in a panic. Crops were drying up, which was affecting people’s livelihood. The agora was nearly barren when you went in to sell the cloth you’d dyed and embroidered, the food stalls empty of the usual grain and barley you would typically find this time of year. 

Most people had taken to making the trek past your house and down to the small temple there, praying to Zeus for rain, hoping that he would smile down upon you and bring good fortune, and maybe a storm cloud or two.

You knew that it was probably fruitless, but you decided that maybe you should leave an offering to appease him. It wouldn’t hurt to try.

Wanting to wait until it was cooler so you didn’t die of heatstroke while you leaned over the boiling water, you waited until the sun went down before you dug out your best fabric and dyed it a pretty blue color. You pricked your fingers with a needle more than once while embroidering the edges with clouds and raindrops, using white thread so it stood out against the cerulean fabric. A few days later, you deemed it ready, attaching pins so the person wearing it could fasten it and folding it gently. You slipped on your sandals and headed out with the garment draped over your arm.

It was late, so no one was around, but you weren’t afraid. The breeze was cold now that it was dark out, making you sigh as you listened to the leaves rustling in the olive trees that lined the path. You hoped Zeus would be pleased with what you’d made. Garments that you’d crafted and sold in the agora were always highly sought after and praised. The attention to detail and the small embroidery work you did on the fabric caused you to get lots of commissions from high-class women who lived in the city. It was something you were good at and took a lot of pride in, so you hoped that he would be impressed by your hard work. 

When you arrived, you noticed there were a lot of offerings waiting just inside the door. You bowed your head and dropped to your knees in front of the statue within, closing your eyes as you placed the folded tunic at Zeus’ stone feet. “Please help us and send some rain. I made this tunic by hand. I hope you like the color. I chose it because it reminds me of the sky.” Whispering, you spoke aloud, feeling kind of silly, but willing to try anything to gain some relief from the sweltering heat.

Finishing the rest of your prayers in silence, you stood up and bowed, hurrying out of the small shrine and back up the path toward your home. When you laid down to sleep that night, you sent up one final prayer, hoping that things would get better when the morning came.

--

You woke up hours later to the sound of thunder. Sitting up in your bed, you felt tears well in your eyes, relief flooding through you. The rain was finally coming!

Briefly, you wondered if your gift had been the one that Zeus had deemed worthy enough to grant your village’s prayers. Swinging your feet off the bed, you dashed from the room, wrenching the front door open and running out into the night, bare feet slapping against the dirt as you made your way down the path towards the temple.

You didn’t know what you expected to find when you arrived. Would all the offerings be gone? Or would it be just as you left it hours before?

Dark clouds were rolling in overhead, and you laughed when you felt the first few drops of rain pelting on the bare skin of your arms as the temple came into view. You slowed to a stop, breathing heavily; the smell of petrichor in the air as water finally touched the dry grass and soil around you. 

Stepping forward, you entered the temple, lingering in the doorway. Zeus’s proud statue stood in the center just as before, offerings still sitting untouched at his feet. They all remained, except for one.

The sky blue tunic you had crafted was missing.

--

It rained for three days straight, the constant onslaught of water on the parched ground, causing puddles to appear in every dip of the landscape around your home. You stayed inside, leaving the windows open to let in the fresh air, breathing deeply as your worries melted away. You were excited to visit the river, hoping the water would be rushing and kissing the edges of the riverbank as it always had before. 

When the fourth day came with clear blue skies and a gentle breeze, you gathered up your towel and set off to the river. You skirted around the slowly drying puddles on the path, your sandals sinking into the soft earth as you made your way to your destination.

You arrived to see the river looked as you had expected, the water back up to its normal height, the current gentle, leaves floating along its surface. You looked around, making sure you were alone before you removed your tunic and laid it across a rock on the riverbank, before slipping into the cold, clear water. Most people from the village didn’t bother to come out here, so you weren’t too worried about being seen skinny dipping, but you always kept your ears open, just in case.

Time passed as you relaxed against the river’s edge, head tipping back to bask in the gentle sunlight filtering through the trees surrounding you. The weather was beautiful and was a welcome change compared to the unbearable sweltering days you’d been living the past few weeks.

A gentle splashing caught your attention, and your head snapped up, eyes scanning the water’s surface, assuming it was a fish. What you weren’t expecting to see was a man a little ways up the river, crouching down with his hand in the water, a serene smile on his face. You didn’t know if he saw you, but you suddenly felt self-conscious, dipping lower and crossing your arms across your chest to hide yourself. The plan had been to keep quiet and wait until he left. But then you saw what he was wearing.

The sky blue tunic was unmistakable.

“Where did you find that tunic?” You called accusingly. You had assumed that the tunic was missing because Zeus enjoyed your gift, and had given yourself credit for pleasing him enough to send the rain. To know that you hadn’t done anything at all, and a thief was the reason that your hard work was missing from the temple, was disheartening.

The man stood, his eyes searching for the source of your voice. When they landed on you, huddled against the side of the river, your head barely visible on the water, he smiled at you brightly. “It was an offering from the temple! Honestly, this is the nicest tunic I’ve had the pleasure of wearing.” He pulled on the bottom of it, pointing to the embroidered clouds. “The detail here is exquisite.”

Huffing, you frowned. “I know. I’m the one who made it.” His eyes lit up, and he opened his mouth to reply, but you interrupted him. “I don’t know who you think you are, but that tunic was made for Zeus. It’s extremely disrespectful to steal something from the gods. You must be crazy if you don’t think he’s going to strike you down with a lightning bolt the moment he finds out what you did.”

The man chuckled, raising his arms and folding them behind his head. You tried not to stare at his tan and muscular legs, or his equally muscular biceps. “You think I’m a thief? I’m offended, sweetheart.”

Blushing at the term of endearment, you shook your head. “Well, that’s the only logical explanation-“

“That’s where you’re wrong.” The man walked closer, and you shrunk back, trying to preserve your modesty. “It was a gift from Zeus himself.”

Your jaw dropped open, eyes wide. You weren’t sure how that was possible, but looking at the man before you now, you realized there was no way that he was mortal. He was too perfect.

Not to mention, his hair was like nothing you’d ever seen before.

It was a beautiful light blue, similar to the fabric draped around his body, fluffy and soft looking even from a distance, and it floated back and up, away from his head on its own.

“You’re a…” Trailing off, you got lost in the blue of his eyes as he stepped closer.

“Demigod.” He dropped his arms and shrugged. “My name’s Oboro.”

You were suddenly reminded of how very naked you were. “Could you, uh, turn around? So I can get dressed?”

Wiggling his eyebrows, Oboro smirked. “You sure? I mean, it’s nothing I’ve never seen before.”

“Ugh, please.” Annoyed, you glared at him. Demigod or not, what a perv.

“Kidding! I’m kidding!” Holding up his hands in defeat, he turned around, chuckling.

You took the opportunity to lift yourself out of the river and hurry over to where you’d left your clothes. You dried off quickly with your towel and wrapped your dress back around your frame.

When you were decent, you cleared your throat. “Thank you, Oboro.” You tugged at the fabric that was clinging to your semi-wet skin uncomfortably, watching as he turned back around and shot you a grin.

“So, you made this thing, huh?” Stepping closer, the man was suddenly towering over you, his smile charming. He reached out and plucked the towel you were still holding from your hand, bringing it up and over your head, his fingers rubbing your scalp as he dried your hair for you.

Speechless, you stuttered. What was he doing? 

The towel lifted, and you watched as Oboro gathered your hair and squeezed out the water that was sitting at the ends of it. “That’s better. So, you going to answer me?’

Blinking up at him again in shock, you watched the laughter dancing in his clear blue eyes, the way his nose crinkled when he smiled, the white bandage across the bridge of it making him look boyish and handsome. You were swooning. You needed to get a hold of yourself. “I...yes. I made it myself. I make clothing to sell in the agora all the time.”

Nodding, he handed your towel back to you. “Zeus is a pretty busy guy, you know? He asked for my help, told me to check into some of his temples to see if anyone needed help. He said if it was something we could do, I could take care of it and help myself to anything left for an offering as a reward.” 

“And you picked my tunic?” You felt a weight lift from your chest at his story.

Grinning, he pushed a piece of your hair off of your forehead. “It matches my eyes; how could I not?” He let his arm fall to his side. “I’m an altruistic guy. I like to help people, so I always jump at the chance when my father asks for my assistance. As soon as I saw that blue fabric, I knew I had to do something. I always say that handmade gifts are much better than jewels or gold because they come from the heart. So I called upon the Nephelae to come and bring some rain.”

You hummed, your face turning pink as you blushed. His innocent touching and compliments had your skin feeling warm. “Thank you, Oboro. I’m glad that it was well-received.” Clearing your throat, you glanced up at him through your lashes. “If you like it, I could make you another.”

“You’d do that?” He always seemed to be smiling, and you briefly hoped you’d never have to see him frown, knowing it would look out of place on his face. “I couldn’t ask-“

“I’m offering! I want to, honestly. You did so much for us with just that little bit of rain. I feel like that one tunic isn’t enough to show my gratitude.” 

It was his turn to blush, his teeth worrying at his bottom lip. “Okay. Only if you want to.”

“Great!” You clapped your hands together. “Do you have anything you want specifically? I have lots of different fabric to choose from, and I can dye it any color you’d like.”

“Surprise me.” He winked, lifting his hand to poke the end of your nose playfully. “You know, when I saw that thing, I figured an old lady must have made it. Didn’t think a beautiful woman like you would have done it.”

Scoffing, you folded your arms across your chest. “Do you have no shame? Flirting with me, and you don’t even know my name.”

He threw his head back and laughed. “I like you, you’ve got guts. What’s your name then, sweetheart?”

“It’s Y/N.”

—

After Oboro left you at the edge of the river, promising to come back and see you in a few days, you went home and sifted through the piles of fabric you had collected, trying to find something that you thought would be fitting for the handsome Demigod.

The original tunic you’d made was linen, and since it was still early in the summer, you surmised that it would be best to stick with that fabric. Your other choices were wool or silk, and neither would do well in the hot weather. 

You worked on dying the fabric a dark grey, the color of the sky before a storm. This time you embroidered the edges with golden bolts of lightning and white stars. You were very proud of it when it was finished, thinking it looked as lovely, if not better, than the one you’d left in the temple.

A few days later, you were outside tending to your garden when you heard footsteps approaching behind you. 

“Good morning, sweetheart.” 

The timbre of his voice made you shiver as you stood and turned to meet him. “Morning, Oboro! You’re here just in time!”

“Finished already?” His eyebrow raised. “Did you even sleep?”

Rolling your eyes, you smiled at him. “Of course! I slept some.”

Shaking his head, he stepped towards you, ruffling the hair on your head. “Don’t lose sleep on my account, okay? I can wait as long as I have to.”

You wished this man would stop making you blush so much. “Okay, fine. It won’t happen again. Would you like some wine?”

“Why would I say no to that?” He chuckled, following you into your small home, sitting at the table when you pointed to the chair, watching as you flitted around the kitchen preparing his drink.

“What have you been up to? Helping out your father?” You asked conversationally, setting the glass down in front of him.

Humming, he picked up the glass and took a sip. “A little. I spent some time with my friends mostly. I don’t get to see them too often since they’re always so busy.”

“Oh? Are your friends Demigods too?”

He hummed, sipping his wine again. “Shouta is the son of Hypnos, god of sleep. Hizashi is the son of Apollo, god of music.”

“Wow. I’ve never met anyone important like that. Well, besides you.” 

He snorted. “We’re not important, our fathers are. We’re just regular people.”

“Except you’re half god and incredibly handsome.” Huffing, you blushed, realizing what you said.

“You think I’m handsome?” His cheeky grin was too much to look at, so you turned away. 

Changing the subject seemed like the best option for your sanity. “Let me show you what I made for you.” 

He didn’t push it, which surprised you, but also made you feel grateful. You didn’t want to think about the man any more than you already had been. He was funny and kind and gorgeous, but he was also a flirt and a Demigod, and you really didn’t know what to make of all of that. You realized that some people might think the way you acted with him was disrespectful, but he was just a person like he’d pointed out. Mostly.

You walked over to your work table and unfolded the tunic, turning around and holding it out towards him. “I was trying to keep with the sky theme. What do you think?”

Oboro stood up from the table, leaving his wine glass behind. He stared at the fabric, taking it into his hands, his fingers tracing the embroidery. When he looked up at you, his face was filled with wonder. “Are you sure you’re not magic?”

You blinked at him. “What? Why?”

“This is amazing, Y/N. Truly. Thank you.” Grinning, he handed it back to you, his hands moving to the pins keeping his tunic fastened around his body.

“Oboro, what are you doing?”

The pins opening let the fabric around him fall free. “Trying it on.” 

You covered your eyes with your hand as he pulled the garment off his body, resisting the urge to peek through your fingers when you caught a glimpse of his chiseled abs and the swell of his pectorals as you heard his clothing fall to the floor. He took the tunic from your hand, taking his time pinning the fabric at his shoulders and under his arms. 

“How do I look?”

Removing your hand away from your red face, you moved forward, redoing the pin at his shoulder to sit straight. Stepping back, you walked around him. “It’s missing something.” 

He looked at you curiously, his brow furrowed. “What?”

You looked puzzled, finger tapping your chin before your face suddenly brightened in recognition. “I’ve got it!” You scurried away to your work area, coming back with a golden colored braided cord. 

Oboro watched as you reached around him, passing the rope between your hands. He lifted his arms as you tied it around his waist, cinching the fabric a bit and moving back to look over him again. “Perfect.”

His arms dropped, his head tilted down as he looked over the fabric again. Teeth pressed against his bottom lip, he looked up at you. “Another masterpiece, Y/N. I’m going to look better than all the gods in Olympus when I visit my father later.”

You shook your head, laughing. “Oh please, I’m not that great, Oboro.”

He huffed, stepping forward and surprising you when he wrapped his arms around you in a hug. “Just accept the compliment, would you?”

Hesitantly, your arms moved around him to return the gesture, your voice horse as you replied. “Okay.”

—

Oboro became a permanent fixture in your life after that. He appeared nearly every day, treating you to picnics and taking you for walks through the forests and down to the river. You looked forward to seeing him, his face the last thing you thought of before you fell asleep, and the first thing you imagined when you woke up. You were in too deep.

It rained more often, but it was welcome after the hell of drought you’d been through earlier that month. The weather didn’t stop Oboro from visiting, his strong arms dragging you out into the storm so you could watch the dark clouds above roll past. He made you laugh, his bright smile infectious as he carved himself a place in your heart.

You didn’t know what this was. Did he like you more than just a friend? He was a flirt, but you assumed he was like that with everyone. You weren’t sure if you should read into it any deeper, but there was a big part of you that wanted him to want you just as much as you found yourself wanting him. 

He was gentle and kind, going out of his way to help the people in the village when he visited, hefting large bags of grain in the agora. He never hesitated or asked for anything in return, and it made your heart flutter. The old ladies would stop you to tell you how wonderful he was, that he was a keeper, and whenever you tried to open your mouth and correct them, he would grin over at you and wink, and you’d lose the ability to speak. 

When he showed you the power bestowed upon him by his father, you couldn’t help but giggle. He waved his hands around, creating a cloud out of the air’s moisture and pushed it towards you. “They can’t do much but float around, but if I make one big enough, I can sit on it and ride it where I need to go.”

“You aren’t able to make them do anything else?” You poked at the cloud, watching as it broke apart and drifted away. 

“No, but they’re fun to look at.” He made another one shaped like a bird. “What do you think?”

“I think they look like your hair.” You teased, watching it float up above your heads. 

He starting making another one, bigger than the ones before. “Come on.” He brought it down low, sitting on it and crossing his legs underneath him. “Want to go for a ride?”

You shook your head, frightened at the thought. “No way, that’s too scary.”

“Come on!” He held out his hand. “I can show you the world this way.”

His smile was disarming, and you felt yourself stepping forward before you knew it. “You better not let me fall.”

“I won’t, I promise. I’ll keep you safe.”

--

“What are you doing tomorrow?” He asked, kicking his feet in the water. 

You were sitting side by side on the riverbank, leaning back and basking in the afternoon sun. “Mm, probably this?” You opened one eye and looked over at him. “Why?”

He shrugged. “My father wants to meet you.”

You sat up so fast you almost flung yourself into the river, Oboro’s hand grabbing onto your arm the only reason you didn’t fall in. “Excuse me?”

Snorting, he let go of you and rested his palms on the grass beside him again. “He wants to meet the woman who made the outfit I wore to dinner a few weeks ago. Remember, I said I was going to show up everyone in Olympus?”

Nodding, you shut your jaw, which had been hanging open since he’d told you his father, also known as Zeus, the god of the sky and thunder, the king of the gods, wanted to meet /you/.

“Well, Aphrodite commented on it, and then father asked who made it, so I told him about you. Will you come?”

You swallowed thickly, trying to find your voice. How could you say no? Could you refuse to meet Zeus if he asked you to? “I…”

His arm moved around your shoulder, pulling your closer. “Don’t be nervous.”

“Don’t be nervous? Are you kidding me? I know he’s your father, but to me, he’s a god.” You sputtered, feeling yourself shake at the thought of being face to face with him. 

“Well, I mean, I’m half-god, and you’re not nervous around me.”

You decided not to point out that he made you incredibly nervous. You were just good at hiding it. You pressed on instead. “What do I even say to him? What do I even wear?”

He burst out laughing, throwing his head back. “What do you wear? Clothes would be a start, Y/N.”

“I hate you, have I mentioned that before?”

--

You barely slept that night, your thoughts racing as you went over scenarios in your head, trying to imagine what it was going to be like when you were face to face with the king of the gods. For some reason, you were worried that he wouldn’t like you. You weren’t sure why it mattered so much to you. You tried to push the little voice in the back of your head away when it started pointing out how you were probably worried because of how you felt about Oboro.

It was ridiculous to fight it anymore. You knew you liked him. You weren’t sure what to do with that information, but there it was. And now you were going to meet his father. 

Oboro came to get you after breakfast, his cheerful smile falling when he saw your face. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“You look like you haven’t slept.”

You laughed. “I haven’t.” Rubbing your eyes tiredly, you sighed. “I’m just worried I’m going to make a fool of myself.”

Shaking his head, Oboro pulled you into a hug. “You’re not going to make a fool of yourself. You’re going to be fine. He’s not as scary as you seem to think. Plus, I’ll be right there with you. You don’t have to be afraid.”

Letting yourself melt into him, you buried your face into his chest. “I know, I’m sorry. I’m probably just making things worse.”

“Don’t apologize, it’s fine.” You felt his fingers tangle in your hair, his chin leaning on the top of your head before he pulled away. “Come on, let’s go. He’s going to meet us at the temple.”

“Do I look alright?” You stepped back from him and looked down at the dress you’d made; the fabric dyed a deep burgundy. 

Oboro didn’t say anything at first, making you doubt yourself, your head falling forward to gaze at the sandals on your feet. 

“No, you don’t look alright.” He said finally.

Eyebrows furrowed, your head snapped up to look at him. “What?”

He was grinning widely at you, holding out his hand to take yours. “You look beautiful.”

Your entire face felt like it was on fire when you realized what he said, your expression melting into a small smile. He wrapped his hand around yours and tugged you towards the door, his eyes crinkled merrily, trying not to laugh at his trick. He was such a lousy flirt, but his compliment made you feel better, even if you didn’t think he meant it.

--

Zeus was waiting inside the temple when you arrived, gazing up at the statue of himself with his hands folded behind him. “Sometimes, these things don’t look anything like me, but I’d say this is a pretty accurate one, don’t you think?”

When he turned around to face you, you had to agree. The statue looked just like him. “Y-yes, sir.” Bowing your head, you brought your hands in front of you and pressed them together. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Zeus laughed, stepping forward. “You don’t have to do that, though I appreciate it.” You looked up at him, meeting blue eyes the same color as his son’s. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Y/N. I’ve heard so many things about you. Oboro talks of you often.” He took one of your hands in his and kissed the back of it, his gaze moving to the man beside you. “You weren’t kidding when you told me she was beautiful, son.”

Your cheeks turned pink as you turned to look at Oboro, his face tinted red with embarrassment. “Father, please.”

“Please what? She’s beautiful and talented as well.” He turned back to you. “Oboro’s tunic was all anyone could talk about at dinner a few weeks ago. Aphrodite was impressed, and that’s not an easy feat to accomplish.”

“Thank you, Zeus. I’m humbled. I never thought what I did was anything extraordinary.”

“Nonsense! Quality work like that should be appreciated.” You heard Oboro telling you to accept a compliment in the back of your head, so you just smiled and nodded. ”Oboro showed me the blue tunic you made as well, and I would like to ask a favor of you.” 

“Anything, sir.” You felt your heartbeat quicken in anticipation, relaxing minutely when you felt Oboro place his hand on your shoulder and squeeze.

“I would like for you to make something for me. I know that the first tunic was originally an offering for me, but I think it better suits Oboro. I can give you whatever materials you desire. Color and pattern don’t matter to me; I just want something like what you’ve done for my son. Do you think you could do that?”

Your mouth worked without a sound coming out, your brain trying to process what was happening. Zeus wanted you to make clothing for him. “Yes, of course! I would be happy to.”

“Wonderful.” Zeus clapped his hands together and smiled kindly at you. “You’ll be paid for your work, of course. Anything you need, you let my son know, and he’ll get it for you.” He turned to the man beside you, a severe look on his face. “Don’t be a fool, Oboro.”

“Father, what do you-”

“You know what I mean. Have some courage.” He put a hand on his son’s shoulder and squeezed before turning and nodding back at you. “I hope we meet again soon, Y/N.” 

Before you could say goodbye, a clap of thunder sounded in the temple, causing the ground to shake slightly, and he was gone.

--

You weren’t sure how you made it back to your house, your thoughts elsewhere as you tried to imagine what you could make for Zeus that would impress him.

Oboro was uncharacteristically quiet beside you on the entire walk, his mind obviously elsewhere as well.

“You okay?” You asked him, cocking your head to the side as he stood in the doorway to your home, his shoulder resting on the frame.

He nodded, smiling at you. “Never better.”

Not believing him for a second, you pressed on. “Did your father say something that’s bothering you?” He looked away, his eyebrows furrowed. “You don’t have to tell me, you know. I’m just worried about you.”

His eyes met yours again. “You’re worried about me?”

“You always have a smile on your face, no matter what, so seeing you without one is a little worrisome.” You stepped towards him, craning your head back to look up into his eyes. “You can talk to me if you want. I won’t judge you too hard, I promise.”

Oboro huffed a laugh through his nose. “You’re funny.” His fingers traced along your jaw as he stood up straight, gazing down at you. “You want to know what he was talking about?”

Nodding, you swallowed thickly, feeling the mood in the room shift, the tension between the two of you was palpable. 

“He was telling me not to be a fool about you.”

Blinking, you tried to focus on the feeling on his fingers on your face, moving down to your neck. “About me?”

Humming, his thumb brushed across your chin, moving up to tug on your bottom lip. “He knows how much I like you. He just doesn’t want me to miss my opportunity.”

Eyes wide, you stared at him, not sure what to say, more content to watch him and see what he would do next.

“Ever since I saw you at the river that day, your face is all I can think about when I’m not with you. Spending time with you is all I want to do. I would be content to sit there and drink wine and watch you sew all day, just because I get to be with you.” He chuckled under his breath. “Shouta and Hizashi are tired of me going on about it. Well, Shouta is always tired, so that’s nothing new.” He pushed your hair behind your ear with his other hand. “They all just wanted me to tell you how I feel.” 

You closed your eyes briefly, breathing in deeply. You let your hands rest on his chest, smoothing the fabric of his clothes beneath your fingers. “I like you too, Oboro. A lot.”

He leaned in closer, his voice dropping in pitch and volume when he spoke. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

You felt his breath on your face, and you closed your eyes again when his lips met yours. Letting yourself melt against him, your hands slid up and over his shoulders. He kept his warm palm against your neck, his other hand moving to your waist to pull your body flush against him. He smelled like petrichor and sunshine, and though you were used to the smell because of all the time you spent with him, somehow it was different when he was kissing you, making your knees weak and your heart pound against your ribcage like it was trying to break free. You sighed when you felt his tongue press against your lips, your mouth opening to deepen the kiss, inhaling through your nose, not wanting to let the moment end.

When it did, your chest was heaving as you sucked in air, but you were still pressed against him, your fingers toying with the hair by the nape of his neck.

He looked down at you, his eyes bright and his lips twisted into a smile. “You okay?”

“Better than okay.” You were still out of breath, but you returned his bright smile. 

“Good.” He leaned down to kiss you again, but this time the kiss was chaste and left you chasing his mouth for more. He chuckled. “Come on, let’s have some lunch, and then I think you should take a well-deserved nap. I know you’re exhausted.”

Humming in agreement, you took a step back, your hand moving to cup his cheek. “Alright. You’re going to stay, right?”

His smile got impossibly bigger. “Sweetheart, I’m not going anywhere.”

[fawniewithorangejuice]

Confessions, Coffee, and Kisses - Part 1

It's been an awfully long day for Hinata Hajime.

Packing up his books, he stood up in one of the Reserve Course classrooms, admiring the terrifyingly clean floor.

Hinata hated this. Hated being around people who were so incredibly bland.

It just reminded him of his own bland existence.

When it comes to Hope's Peak Academy, the Main Course was the "big deal". Talented people who were the hope of the new generation. They could achieve anything they set their mind to - a clear carrier path. An obvious road to success.

... Hinata didn't have that.

A part of him wanted to accept it. A part of him wanted to give up.

Just let it be.

The universe wasn't kind enough to him to bless him with a talent, so he should just live with it.

He could only have one opinion overwriting all:

"Fuck that."

His Ultimate parents got him into the Reserve Course because of their fear for their image.

Imagine a successful, talented couple raising a child without talent.

Couldn't be them... so they did their best to hide the truth, for their own selfish desires.

Mr. Hinata long gave up on cultivating any possible talent his son might've had - he did not have any - so their so-called "family" was just a reason to keep their son alive.

He got fed, he had a roof above his head - but he never felt loved.

Hinata would never admit, but he craved validation. Which was fine, most children do... but not this way.

He developed the need to prove his worth.

This is why he attended every competition he saw fit, worked three times as hard as any of his other classmates - to get some sort of praise from his parents.

No, not praise. Any kind of acknowledgement of his existence.

He was mindlessly walking down the corridors, careful not to bump into anyone.

"Hinata!"

He heard a high-pitched male voice call out to him.

Hinata sighed, it was probably that annoying classmate again... Sakugi Kuri.

The boy always seemed a bit too happy-go-lucky to him, quite a nice contrast when it comes to the gloomy Reserve Course.

As if a gray cloud was constantly hovering over this department, while the Main Course had all the sunlight.

"What is it, Sakugi-san?

The brunette had the feeling the black haired boy felt like they were friends.

Hinata didn't really think so, but as much as he thought of Sakugi as a bother, his company was tolerable.

The shorter male looked at him with pleading eyes.

"You promised to help me out with the history homework, so please~?"

There came Hinata's signature sigh, paired with a nod.

"I did... give me your book, then."

Sakugi let out a loud "yay~" and bowed his head to Hinata, who had to give him a smile.

While they were walking out of the building, the black haired boy talked about things he found exciting.

Normal people talk.

Sakugi talked about his family, how they were planning to go on vacation to some city... Towa, was it?

Hinata just hummed as he listened, though his thoughts always seemed to drift away.

As they walked now on the streets, he noticed another one of his friends standing with a girl under a cherry tree.

Hinata's eyes widened, pulling the shorter male along with him to hide behind some bushes.

"Hinata?" Sakugi whispered curiously, obviously confused by the other's actions.

"That's one of my friends from the Main Course. He is probably getting confessed to right now."

The brunette smiled, even though not every part of him was happy for his friend's new possible relationship.

"Ah, but that is wonderful!" the boy exclaimed, and Hinata had to cover his mouth.

"Shh, be quiet, don't ruin this moment for him."

Hinata is going to be honest, he didn't really know much about Komaeda's love life. He didn't know if he liked someone at all, or if he would accept the girl's feelings.

The spring leaves were gently swaying in the wind, the sakura tree standing tall and beautiful as ever.

It was the perfect moment for a love confession, Hinata thought.

So you could imagine the confusion when he saw the girl staring at the ground, trying her best not to cry.

Sakugi raised an eyebrow, and he looked at Hinata.

"Didn't... why didn't he accept her confession?"

Hinata shrugged, honestly confused. The girl was an Ultimate as well, beautiful purple hair, pink eyes...

Then it dawned on him.

"Komaeda... is a difficult person."

That was a really accurate statement.

"It's because she is an Ultimate, isn't it? Komaeda can't indulge in being with a talented person, he wouldn't let himself do so in a thousand years."

The girl ran away crying, and Komaeda did look extremely uncomfortable.

"Sakugi-san, I've-"

"It's okay, Hinata, just talk to him."

The brunette nodded.

"Thank you for understanding. I promise I'll finish your history homework by tomorrow, okay?"

Sakugi chuckled.

"Alright, but make sure to redeem a cup of coffee."

Hinata smiled as well.

"I will, I will."

After waving to the shorter boy, Hinata made his way to Komaeda, who just helplessly stood there like a puppy.

Hinata's heart sank at the sight, so he placed his hands on the other's shoulders, as an attempt to comfort him.

"H-Hinata-kun..."

The lucky student looked our protagonist in the eye, as if searching for answers.

"Komaeda..."

Upon hearing his name, the white haired boy closed the distance between them, hugging the other male.

"Want to talk about it?"

Hinata asked cautiously after a couple of minutes, just gently rubbing the other's back.

"Hinata-kun, I just... I don't understand. She confessed to me. She doesn't even know who I am! A-and she looked so upset when I rejected her, I just froze in place... she..."

Komaeda was sobbing at this point.

As someone who rarely experienced care, a love confession out of the blue could stir up so many confusing and unwanted emotions.

"I made her cry, Hinata-kun..."

Hinata hated seeing Komaeda like this. He absolutely despised it.

... Though he didn't expect such a strong reaction after a love confession, but Komaeda was different.

Hinata carefully put together his words, not to say the wrong thing.

"But did you like her, Komaeda?"

The white haired boy shook his head, but didn't respond verbally.

"Then you did the right thing. You could've let her live a dream, a false reality... and leading her on like that would've just led to more heartbreak."

Komaeda was slowly calming down, holding Hinata tight.

"You think so?"

He asked in a small voice, which Hinata nodded to.

"As much as the truth hurts, wrapping yourself in lies will just mess you up more. It would've been so much worse if you told her later, believe me."

Komaeda sniffed, now no more tears forming in his eyes.

Hinata kept his strong but tender hold, not letting go until Komaeda wanted to.

Komaeda didn't exactly want to let go... ever, but he wouldn't say that.

So soon enough they let go of each other, not without the lucky student faking a sniff to smell Hinata's scent.

After crying, some people start to giggle. That's usually because of them feeling so overwhelmed, they don't know how else to function.

This was the reason why Komaeda chuckled, though he was much calmer than he were before.

"C-can't believe a Reserve Course Student came to comfort me... how despair-inducing."

Hinata sighed of relief. Komaeda had quite the sarcasm and his snarky comments, so whenever his friend used such abilities, Hinata knew he was alright.

That didn't keep him from rolling his eyes.

"You're welcome."

Komaeda chuckled again, and looked around to actually remind himself of his surroundings.

Hinata still had to make sure his friend was better, so he opted to ask:

"Would you like to grab a coffee?"

The lucky student gave him a small nod, being too emotionally overwhelmed right now to put up a fight.

Plus if he knew anything about Hinata, it was his stubbornness.

The brunette took him by the arm, and led him to his favourite café.

Komaeda was paying attention to the familiar route, and shook his head with a smile, and a look of disbelief.

"Hinata-kun, are you seriously taking me to Thanks a Latte again?"

The other male just shrugged with a grin on his face.

"I may be... by then, perhaps you'll be able to learn some manners, and actually thank me for caring about you."

Komaeda pouted, narrowing his eyes.

"I think someone needs to know their place here."

Hinata tried his best to hold back a laugh, though he failed miserably.

"Oh really~?"

Komaeda sighed in fake disappointment.

"This is exactly why I don't hang out with people from the Reserve Course. All of you are so cocky."

The brunette chuckled as they were walking down the streets, turning the corner of Lollipop Street.

"Mhm... then why are you hanging out with me so often?"

Hinata loved playing this game. Whatever this game was.

Komaeda blushed, but he tried to give a rebuttal.

"W-well, because I have nothing else to do, of course. And you seem oddly obsessed with me, so I might just let you live your dreams of befriending an Ultimate."

Hinata shook his head again, giving Komaeda a "yeah yeah sure, keep telling that to yourself." before he stopped at the door to the café.

The brunette knew Komaeda was hanging out with him because he enjoyed his company - and because Komaeda always seemed so lonely whenever he saw him.

He knew Komaeda liked him; just not in a way the lucky student actually did.

Hinata opened the door the usual way.

"After you, my liege."

[midnightsnyx]

Consequences - Matthew Tkachuk: part 5

summary: you absolutely hate Matthew Tkachuk so it’s just your luck when you wind up pregnant with his child. 

a/n: surprise!!! it’s part 5!! i wont be home sunday so i wanted to post this today. i’m really iffy on this part because i wrote and rewrote a lot of the scenes because i wasn’t happy with it and i’m still not 100% happy with it but if i keep picking it over i’ll end up deleting the entire thing and rewriting it from scratch

but yeah i hope u guys like it & thanks again sooooo much for the love on this story <3 you guys rock.

word count: 2.6K

warnings: swearing, angst w/ a lil fluff again and bad editing lol

ALSO the first part in italics is a flashback to before Matt missed the appointment! 

Part 5

“You’ve gotta stop moping, man.” Noah said, bumping his shoulder against Matt’s during morning practice.

Matt knew he was moping but he couldn’t get you out of his head and it was driving him nuts. He was attracted to you the moment you met even though you hated him, but lately something was different. He wasn’t sure if it’s from seeing you carry his child but the past couple months, you were all he could think about.

And it drove him insane.

“I’m not.” He mumbled, attempting to deny his teammates statement. Noah didn’t buy it though, because he grinned.

“You, me, and drinks?” He pointed at Matt. “Tonight at 9. We’re getting you laid.”

Matt forced a smile and nodded, knowing that Noah wouldn’t leave him alone until he agreed.

“The ultrasound is in the morning though so I can’t stay out late.” Matt reminded him.

“We’ll have you back in time for the appointment.” Noah promised and Matt believed him which was why the hurt on your face the next morning broke him.

. . .

21 weeks

“Noah Hanifin is at your front door.” Becca says, looking through the peephole before turning to look at you. Piled under a mountain of blankets with tissues surrounding you and an empty tub of ice cream sitting on the coffee table, you‘re the perfect picture of a broken heart.

You have been dodging calls and texts from Matthew for the past two weeks but in the last couple days, he’s been radio silent and you’re not sure if it hurts more, or less.

“Tell Noah Hanifin to fuck off.” You mutter, trying to dig yourself deeper in the pile of blankets. You know why Noah is here and it pisses you off.

Becca opens the door a little and you can see Noah standing there, holding a bag and looking uncomfortable.

“Can I help you with something?” Becca asks shortly and Noah sighs.

“Good to see you too, Becs.”

Becca’s shoulders tighten and you know without seeing her face that she is glaring at him. “What do you want, Hanifin?”

He hands her the bag he was holding. “This is for Y/N. It’s from Matt. He says he’s sorry.” Then he looks at you. “He’s in bad shape.”

You know he’s in bad shape because even though you’re hurt and angry, you’ve been watching his games. He’s being careless, taking stupid penalties, picking fights more than normal and you know he hasn’t been getting much sleep because there are bags under his eyes.

So you don’t need Noah Fucking Hanifin to tell you that Matthew’s in bad shape.

“That’s not my problem.”

“Oh come on, Y/N.” Noah says a little too harshly for your liking. “He fucked up, he knows that. Cut him some slack, he’s twenty two and he’s about to be a fucking father. He’s scared!”

“And I’m about to be a mother!” You snap. “He doesn’t think I’m scared?”

Noah groans in frustration. “Look. It was my fault, okay? I talked Matt in to going out that night because I wanted him to stop moping over you.”

You try to ignore his comment about Matt moping over you but your voice is unsteady when you answer him.

“Matt is a big boy, Noah. He can make his own decisions and he made the wrong one.” You watch Noah’s face fall. “Stop trying to stick up for him.”

Noah shakes his head and sighs. “You should cut him some slack. It was my fault.”

You watch as he leaves without saying another word. When he’s gone and Becca shuts the door behind him, she turns to face you.

“He doesn’t deserve forgiveness just because Hanifin ‘talked’ him in to going out and getting drunk. He made that choice.”

You slowly nod, watching as she walks to your kitchen preparing to throw the bag Noah dropped off in the garbage. You’re not sure what prompts you to stop her but you call out before she throws it out.

“Wait.”

She looks at you with a raised brow. “What?”

“Let me see what he brought.”

You know she’s pissed, but she brings it over and hands it to you.

“I’m going to go get ready for bed, okay?” She says and you nod, watching as she walks down the hallway. When she’s out of sight, you peak in the bag.

The first thing you see is a chocolate bar. It’s your favourite, and you’re surprised he remembered. There’s some candy and a box of popcorn and your lips turn up in a tiny smile when you pull out a movie.

It’s What to Expect When You’re Expecting, the movie you were very against watching because of how unrealistic it would be compared to actual childbirth. There’s a little sticky note that says, you should watch this even though it’s totally not accurate.

Then, at the very bottom of the bag, there’s a bigger note and you want to ignore it like you’ve done with every text he’s sent you but you read it out of curiosity.

Y/N,

 I know that I can’t make up for missing the appointment and I know there’s nothing I can say to make it better so all I’m going to do is say sorry. I am so, so sorry and I know I keep saying that and they are only words but it’s all I can think of to say.

So I’m sorry and I hope that you can forgive me soon because I miss you and I want to be there for you without having to ask my mom for updates on how you are. Please call me, or even text me. I just want to know how you’re doing.

 Matt

 You’re sniffling by the time you’ve read the note but when you hear Becca approaching, you wipe away the tears and shove the paper back in the bag.

“What did he give you?” She questions, sitting on the couch next to you.

You don’t want to tell her about the note so you just shrug. “A movie.”

“That’s all?”

“Yeah.” You lie. “Will you watch it with me?”

“Sure.” She says, taking the movie from you and putting it in to the DVD player before returning to the couch and curling up on the opposite side of the couch.

You try to focus on the movie but you can’t get Matt’s note and Noah’s words out of your head. You’re confused from what Noah said about Matthew ‘moping’ over you. The two of you were friends and you used that term loosely. If it wasn’t for the baby, you know you never wouldn’t have gotten so close to him. You never would have gotten to know the side of him that the rest of the world has never seen. You wouldn’t have learned how terrible he is at cooking but how gentle he can be.

But you also wouldn’t be in this situation right now. By yourself and pregnant with a broken heart.

So you’re not sure what hurts more. The thought of never having known him the way you do or having your heart broken.

. . .

22 weeks

Johnny: I’m really sorry to bother you but can you please come pick Matt up? He’s in bad shape and he won’t go home unless its to you.

It’s this text that has you standing outside a bar that Matt and the guys are. For Johnny to text you, you know that it must be bad and you’re proven right when the doors open and Noah and Johnny carry an extremely wasted Matthew Tkachuk out. You’re not sure he’s even awake until he lifts his head when Noah shakes him.

“Y/N’s here, bud.”

His eyes are closed but they open when he hears your name and his face lights up and he shrugs the boys off, stumbling towards you. He’s unsteady so you reach out to steady him, grateful when he doesn’t put much weight on you.

“You’re here.” He breathes and you nod slowly.

“And you’re drunk.”

He shakes his head quickly. “No, I’m sober as a judge!”

You hear Noah chuckle but you don’t react to him, pulling Matt’s arm around your shoulder.

“C’mon. Lets go home.”

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” Noah calls out and you’re still pissed at him so you don’t bother looking back.

“Yeah.”

You get Matt in your car without a problem and when you start the drive back to your apartment, you try to ignore how he’s staring at you but it feels like he’s burning holes in the side of your head.

“What?” You mutter eventually and you see him shrug out of the corner of your eye.

“’m surprised you came to pick me up. I know you hate me.” He mumbles and you sigh.

“I don’t hate you.” You tell him, “I was angry with you. And I had every right to be.”

“I’m sorry.” He whispers quietly and when you glance at him, he’s no longer looking at you. He is staring at his hands and you notice the cuts from the fight he got in to at today’s game. It was a heavy loss and had a lot to do with how many penalties Matt took. They were dumb penalties, all of which he never would have taken if his head was in the game. You know it’s not entirely your fault but you still can’t help but feel a little guilty because you know he’s playing like this because you haven’t been talking to him.

“I know.” You say, pulling in to the parking lot of your apartment building. You could have very well dropped Matt off at his house but you know he’s too drunk and leaving him by himself could be dangerous.

He’s sobered up a little by the time you’re in your apartment. You make him drink a couple glasses of water before guiding him to your bathroom so he can brush his teeth with his toothbrush he keeps at your apartment and when you give him clothes that he keeps here too, you realize how much time he really spent here.

“I can sleep on the couch.” He says and everything in you is screaming to agree but he just looks so tired and you know he won’t get a wink of sleep on that couch so you shake your head.

“It’s fine.” you say, ignoring the small look of hope on his face, instead sending him out of the bathroom so you can get ready. You take your time, hoping that he will be asleep when you go to your bedroom but you find him laying on his back and staring at the ceiling. He doesn’t look at your face when you settle on the bed next to him but you do notice his eyes flicker to your stomach before you pull the blanket over you.

“It’s bigger.” He says.

“What?”

“Your stomach.” He clarifies. “It’s getting bigger.”

“Well that’s what happens when you’re growing a human being inside you.” You remind him and his lips turn up in a small smile.

“Y/N-” He starts to say but you cut him off.

“We’ll talk in the morning.”

He looks disappointed but he’s still drunk enough that you’re not comfortable having the conversation the two of you need to have. There are things that need to be worked out and said and you don’t want him to only remember half of it.

So you watch him nod and drift off before letting yourself fall asleep.

. . .

You wake the next morning before Matt. He snoring quietly and his back is to you which makes getting out of bed easier. He’ll be hungover for sure, so you decide to make breakfast while you wait for him to wake up. You’re also trying to think of what exactly you’re going to say to him.

You don’t know if you have it in you to still be so angry at him. He messed up and it’s not something you’ll ever forget but Noah made a good point when he said that Matt is only 23. You’re both still so young and about to be parents and despite wanting him to be perfect and never mess up, you can’t expect him to be.

“Hey.”

You turn to see Matt walking in to the kitchen, rubbing sleep out of his eyes.

“Hey.” You reply, turning back to the stove. You can hear him sit down on a bar stool and he’s quiet for a moment before speaking up.

“Thank you.” He says softly and it surprises you because you were expecting him to say sorry again.

“You didn’t have to come pick me up last night but you did.”

You shrug, turning around to look at him. “I know you would’ve done the same.”

“I would.” He says. “And I know you’re tired of me saying it but I am really sorry I missed the appointment. I promised I would be there and I let you down.”

You nod, walking over and sitting next to him. “You did, but I’m starting to think that I was too hard on you. You made a mistake, we all do.”

“I swear I’ll never miss one again.” He promises.

“Good, because I’ll shun you if you do.” You chirp and he grins.

After breakfast, the two of you are watching hockey replays and Matt is quietly talking to the baby. You can’t hear exactly what he’s saying but suddenly he looks up and grins.

“Can we tell everyone now? I thought we could make up an Instagram post or something.”

“I may already have one prepared.” You admit sheepishly and his smile lights up the room.

[that-yandere-life]

I see you have Peter B Parker already, but can you do MCU Peter (aged up of course) for the alphabet? Thank you 🥰

[Thank you so much for helping me celebrate! Like you said above, Peter is always over 18 in my fics. I hope that you enjoy, and that it is what you have been waiting for!]

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Peter is the sweetest lover you could ever hope for, inside and outside of the bedroom. Prepare to have your every need tended to the moment you vocalize your request. Overly pampers you wanting to treat you like the Queen he sees you as. 

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Favorite body part of his: His abs, because not only do you enjoy looking at him naked… it means he has the core strength to accomplish any position you would ever want to try. So often when the two of you are home he is without a shirt for your pleasure and his own ;)

Favorite part of yours: Your back/shoulders, loving to see your muscles tense as he fucks you better than anyone you have ever been with. Indulging in the sound of it hitting the wall or the mattress as he playfully tosses you onto it. Feeling them move as he holds you close, thrusting into you over and over again.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Peter is a yandere sure, but he is a gentleman first and foremost. Would ideally like to cum inside of you, but would want your consent before doing so. If you were uncomfortable he would find out what you would be okay with and go from there.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Steals your underwear all the time, even before the two of you started dating he did so. They would randomly turn up washed and folded on your bed, confusing the hell out of you as you didn’t put two and two together.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Limited experience, but has had plenty of pointers from Tony to expand his knowledge of the human anatomy. ;) Not to mention he is a frequent porn viewer so he will have some ideas for what he wants to try with you.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

The Ballet Dancer, which consists of the two of you standing facing each other, one of your legs up and wrapped around his waist with his hand under your knee to give you extra support. While your other foot is on the ground, and his other arm supporting your back. A position that ends up working really well in the shower coincidentally. ;)

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Peter can be serious if the moment allows it, but mostly he is just an easy going guy. That being said he isn’t ashamed if funny or awkward things happen during sex, he will just make light of the situation. Happy that he is able to be himself with you even during the most intimate of acts. 

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Will be trimmed consistently, he is rather self conscious still about his appearance translating to down there care as well. Always careful to practice good hygiene as you never know when the mood might strike you.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Hopeless romantic, is the most accurate description for Peter. Even your more passionate, lustful, and fun sex sessions are filled with love sprinkled in wherever he can fit it.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Of course he used to jack off all the time, whenever he couldn’t sleep, couldn’t focus, was bored… It didn’t matter to him, although now he doesn’t really have to as you both have a healthy sex life with each other. That’s not to say he doesn’t take things into his own hands if you aren’t in the mood.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Bondage, let that man use his webs on you to tie you to the bed before he has his way with you. Trust that it will be the most intimate and pleasure filled experience of your life, one that will have you thinking about it years later.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Shower, honestly what he loves about it is, it starts off innocent most of the time. Just wanting the closeness of showering with each other after a long day. Slowly growing more intimate as he washes your hair for you so lovingly. Naturally slipping into a heated and utterly passionate moment where neither of you can hold back long enough to get out and dry off. 

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

When you tease him, whether it is just for being silly, or if it is roasting him in a loving way. Maybe innocently making him jealous, or intentionally making him jealous.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Most things he would try, but nothing that could possibly end in death or serious injury. Open minded about pretty much anything you would want to attempt with him. Having some ideas of his own at the same time.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

LOVES to receive, to him it is one of the most intimate positions you can do with your partner. Which Peter values intimacy, it’s his love language, one he only wants to speak with you. Of course he returns the favor as he is not an animal, he is rather skilled at it as an added bonus. 

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

A mixture, usually during the same session, able to work a combo that will have you cumming around him over and over again. Sometimes however if he has had a particularly rough day, he will just go slow and deliberate needing to fuck his feelings out of him. 

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

If you are down, he will find a place to go no questions asked. It doesn’t matter how long you have, or what the occasion he will excuse you both immediately.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Peter take risks? It’s almost like he spends his entire life taking risks, do you really think that you can escape that chaos? Expect to try so many different things you never would have thought of attempting before you met him.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He can go as long as you will allow, days even, with hardly any rest needed in between rounds. 

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Likely has a few fleshlights he used in his college dorm back when he didn’t have you, and now that he does he will put on a show for you if you ask. Very into mutual masturbation with you, watching as you both make yourselves fall apart in front of the other. Would also be willing to buy any number of products to use with you or on you. 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Peter can tease, but it’s not extremely common for him to do so. Only when he feels like he hasn’t had enough of your attention lately. However you teasing him, is 100% allowed, in fact it’s what turns him on the most.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Surprisingly pretty vocal, dirty talk, praising, punishing if you are into that kind of play. Smacking your ass, making the slapping sounds echo throughout the room. Grunting, groaning, moaning, and finally a low shout as he cums.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

While he does steal your underwear for his own purposes, sometimes he likes to wear them under his normal clothing. It makes him feel connected to you, because you had once worn them in the same fashion.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Long length, like packing heat my dudes, and average thickness. The kind of cock where you actually don’t know how it’s going to fit.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Pretty high, wanting to constantly be physically intimate with you. It's a time where it’s only the two of you, taking in the moments as they happen. 

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Only after he makes sure that you fall asleep, he doesn’t want to leave you alone if you can’t sleep. Taking care of your every need before allowing himself to drift off beside you.

[gaycrouton]

could you write a fic where scully gets really horny on her period and working with mulder certainly isn’t helping? (pre-relationship) i don’t wanna be too descriptive or anything because i trust that you’ll think of something perfect!

It was the changing levels of progesterone, testosterone, and estrogen in the system that had a dramatic effect on libido during the menstrual cycle. Scully had learned that when she was twelve and got her first period, but known it in practice officially in medical school. One day she’d be normal, the next day all she could think about was when she could get home, lay down on her bed, and fuck herself senseless.

Some things never changed. 

She squeezed her thighs together under the table as she shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She felt like all the blood in her body had rushed to her groin and her lips were swelling more and more each passing minute as her arousal grew. She was starting to feel uncomfortable with the fact she wasn’t sure if her tampon was leaking or if she was just that aroused. All she knew for certain was that she just wanted to lean back in her chair, spread her legs, and let her hand go to work.

No.

What she really wanted was for Mulder to walk over here, part her thighs, and bury his face between them. Or maybe she just wanted to go over there, straddle his legs, and fuck him until his chair broke. She wanted him to know her body was his to do whatever he pleased with.

She let out a small cough as she clenched her thighs together again, glancing at the clock only to see five minutes had passed until she last looked. She knew her face was flushed red, probably matching the blush on her chest and in between her thighs, the blood pumping rapidly to keep up with her heart. It was like a tell she couldn’t conceal.

Scully wished he was as easy to read. Sure, she’d seen his porn collection by accident once or twice, she knew he had a libido, but she often tried to restrict herself from thinking about him in that light too much. Tried being the operative word. She wondered if Mulder would be the type to be repulsed by menstruation? Or would he deem it just a part of life? She remembered the criticisms of her past lovers vividly - one even fatally going so far as to compare her to a ‘bitch in heat’. It was usually the blood that threw them off. Apparently they all forgot that towels and showers exist. 

“Scully, are you okay?”

Her attention shot up to the man causing her current predicament. She always thought he was sexy, but today it was harder than normal to keep her thoughts off of that fact. His cologne smelled better, his faint stubble looked tantalizing, and his deep baritone felt like warm honey being poured on her. “W-what?”

Yesterday had been really tough. She was cramping the entire day, she felt irritable, and Mulder had gotten the brunt of it. While he clearly had been initially offended, even snapping back at her a few times, halfway through the day he’d caught sight of her pain-stricken face as she clutched her side, and became substantially more patient. His kindness and understanding had drastically improved her day, especially when he’d given her some dark chocolate he’d bought just for her. 

Today, however, that same kindness and understanding was having a different effect on her. Knowing that she was still suffering, he kept rubbing her back or massaging her shoulders gently every time he passed by her chair - which today felt like far more than he usually did. Small touches that were usually forbidden only being given under the guise of comfort.

His fingers touching her body had the effect of a match being struck. It felt like she was sucking all the oxygen from around her as her body was set ablaze. The last time he did it she even let out a little accidental whimper. 

She’d been able to pass it off as pain from the cramp, but he’d been staring at her with an odd smirk every time she caught his gaze. 

Like now. 

“I was just asking if you’re feeling okay?” he clarified.

He leaned back in his chair as he said this and started playing with a pencil with both hands. Her eyes were drawn to the skin of his revealed forearms, his shirt bunched around his elbows. Scully could see the muscles flexing underneath his olive skin as he rotated the pencil, rubbing the tip over the pad of his index finger. 

She licked her lips as she thought about what else those fingers could rub.

“Yeah, Mulder. I’m just still a little under the weather,” she shrugged, turning her attention back to the screen of her computer… which had apparently automatically shut down from lack of use without her even noticing. 

Mulder maintained her gaze for a moment before his eyes dropped to the front of her shirt, instantly darting back to his own computer as he feigned work. 

Did he just ogle her breasts?

Her brow furrowed as a result of the decidedly un-Mulder like lack of tact, and she looked down to see if something was wrong - only to see her nipples were prominently visible through the thin cotton of her shirt. Jesus Christ.

Scully hunched over in her seat a little bit, as if that would do anything to conceal her chest. She really started to feel like she might as well write ‘Hi, I’m horny’ on her forehead. 

“Um, I’m sorry. Is it too cold in here?” he asked in concern, already pivoting around in his chair in preparation of getting up and walking to the thermostat. 

“Uh, n-,” she began, before deciding she’d rather blame it on temperature rather than her reaction to his proximity. “Yeah, thank you.”

Even though she was pretending to be doing work, she couldn’t keep her eyes from watching him stand up and-

Oh.

She gasped, but bit her lip to keep from making anymore noise. From the looks of it, she wasn’t the only one aroused. 

He passed by her on his way to the thermostat and she saw he was tenting. Not as bad as she’d seen him do before, but it was significant enough to be slightly visible. Was it because of her?

“Sorry, I didn’t realize it was cold,” he laughed awkwardly as he tinkered with the settings.

She didn’t say anything as she continued looking through the documents on her computer, trying to find some menial task to occupy herself with while still looking busy in case he glanced at her screen. 

God, she’d never wished she had x-ray vision more than she did right now. She’d seen it before, sure, but seeing Mulder’s flaccid penis during an exam and seeing Mulder’s hard cock after catching a glimpse of her tits were two drastically different things. Scully risked a second glance as he walked back to his desk. She could tell he wasn’t fully erect, but it was clearly enough to get her hand around. Enough to stay up on its own as she bent her head down and wrapped her lips around-

“Scully, did you hear me?”

Her eyes shot up and she realized she’d been daydreaming while glaring a hole through the desk where she wanted to see most of all. She saw a light blush had smattered across Mulder’s face as he rubbed a hand on the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I asked if this was better?” 

Now she was sitting in the same predicament, only with the knowledge of Mulder’s eager cock sitting a few feet away as the room started heating up while she felt like she was going to self combust into a ball of fire. 

“Yeah, much better. Thank you,” she smiled.

He smiled back and something about it made her feel like a hungry lion watching an innocent lamb. Did he have any idea how much she wanted to jump his bones at this very moment? 

Forcing her attention back to her computer for what felt like the millionth time today, she looked at the digital clock in the corner only to see a measly three minutes had passed since she last checked.

This was the longest day of her entire life.

She decided cleaning her mailbox would be tedious enough to distract her, while simple enough to be easily fixed when she inevitably got distracted from her distraction and messed up.

From: Dr. Lewis

Subject: Thank you for the autopsy report

Delete

From: Mom

Subject: Dinner tomorrow?

Reply: Yes

From: DCsexysingles69

Subject: You want to see this!

Her mouse hovered over the delete button before curiosity got the better of her. She clicked the link and, as expected, her browser started going crazy with pop ups. She was glad she wasn’t connected to the speakers right now, because she feared what audio was coming from this. 

Photos of sprawled out naked women and men with impossibly large erections littered the screen. She tried to hide her surprise with a cough as she adjusted herself in her seat. Mulder glanced over at her, but luckily turned back to his work.

On a normal basis, she would have been exiting out of the tabs rapidly. But there was only a half an hour left for the day and there was a brown haired man on the screen that looked brooding enough for her tastes.

Scully’s eyes travelled down the man’s exposed torso before resting on his massive erection. Every animal instinct in her made her body crave friction and pressure. If her clit was yelling before, it was screaming for attention now. She squeezed her legs together before glancing out of the corner of her eye, making sure Mulder wasn’t looking.

He wasn’t.

As discreetly as she could, she squirmed in her seat, letting her hand fall subtly on her lap before allowing two fingers to slide in between her thighs and press against her center as best she could. She bit her lip and retracted them as quickly as she could. The temporary relief felt amazing, but only made the intense desire for more even higher. 

Someone once told her the average man thought about sex once every second. While the statistic seemed like an extreme hyperbole - it felt accurate to her current predicament. Looking around the room, she took a mental inventory of everything it would feel great to grind against. The chair, the corner of the desk, the edges of the tables, Mulder’s lap, Mulder’s cock. She let her eyes flutter shut as she thought about it. He’d let her. She knew he would. If she stood up right now, walked over there, straddled him on the chair and ground herself on him until she came - he would have no complaints.

What would he sound like? Would he be nervous and timid? Or would he ravish her the first moment he got? She felt like her arousal had a heart beat and she swore she’d stand up only to see a wet spot where she sat.

Her eyes snapped open at a harsh knock resounded from behind her. “Come in,” Mulder called out.

She’d just gotten her hand to her mouse when she heard the voice of A.D. Skinner boom. “Sorry for dropping by unexpe- Agent Scully? May I ask what you’re doing?” 

She craned her head over her neck as she started rapidly clicking on the exit tabs, “I was checking my mail and spam came up. I’m so sorry,” she rambled. For every tab that closed, it felt like another opened. The seconds seemed to tick by, punctuated by the sounds of her clicking the mouse before eventually just stabbing her finger against the power button. 

Mulder was staring at her with a look of pure confusion, but she felt she couldn’t meet his eye. Instead, she turned back to Skinner, clearing her throat, and said, “I’m sorry.”

Skinner looked just as embarrassed as she inevitably did, and just chuckled humorlessly while adjusting his glasses. “It happens to the best of us.”

“Is there something we can help you with, Sir?” Mulder asked slowly.

Skinner shook his head, snapping himself back to the matter and stammered. “Yeah, yeah. Uh, I just came down to let you both know I need to see you both for a meeting tomorrow to go over the case reports you sent to me yesterday.” As an afterthought he added, “Why is it so hot in here?”

“Were the reports okay?” she asked, skipping over his last question.

She gave them both a stern look as to say ‘what do you think?’ before saying “Let’s just say I have some questions. My office at eleven, okay?” he stated as he started backing out of the room. Skinner seemed to glance at her one last time after avoiding her gaze the entire time he talked, and he stopped in his tracks.

“Sir?” she prompted, feeling uncomfortable in her state with Skinner anywhere near her.

“Sorry, I just don’t think I’ve ever seen you so red,” he laughed. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

If there was a scale, she just went from crimson to scarlet. He laughed at her once more before telling them to have a goodnight as he closed the door. 

The room was silent as she stared at where he’d just been standing, not wanting to turn around and face Mulder. Apparently he didn’t need her to face him. “What did you do?” he laughed.

Pivoting in her seat, she looked at him and saw his eyes were brimming with curious amusement. “I accidentally opened a spam email and porn popped up,” she replied.

“Oh really?” he prodded, leaning back in his seat. “Was it good?” he teased, wagging his eyebrows suggestively.

“Oh yeah, Mulder,” she deadpanned. “How did you know?” 

“Because you looked like you were enjoying yourself,” he replied with a lilt in his voice.

Her eyes shot to him as electricity ran through her body. She should have known better than to-

“Kidding, kidding,” he laughed, raising his hands in the air. She looked at him pensively for a moment, not sure if he was being honest or not. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

She wasn’t one to get off from fear, so her arousal had diminished greatly within the past few minutes. Subsided, might be more correct. She let out a slow breath, looking at the clock on the wall. 4:45.

“Yeah, I’m just still feeling a little under the weather,” she nodded, grabbing her purse. “If you don’t mind I might leave a little early today. I just want to go home,” she explained, standing up. 

“Yeah, sure,” he nodded supportively. 

She stood up and started walking towards the door, her well wishes on her tongue when he called out. “I hope you’re able to find some relief at home,” he said in a joking tone.

She turned around to glare at him when she saw he’d stood up, that slight tent in his pants still visible. A smile broke out on her face as she looked up to him, a devilish playfulness gleaming in his eye.

“Goodnight, Mulder,” she said with finality.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he smiled.

I’ll see you in thirty minutes, she thought to herself, that familiar ache resuming yet again in between her thighs as she left.

[gerrystamour]

the bittersweet between my teeth, Chapter 5

Written by: GerryStAmour | Gift for: @northisnotup​

PLEASE HEED THE FOLLOWING CONTENT WARNINGS:

Minor Character Death

Mortal Injury

Violence

Severe Blood Loss and Burns*

Torture (Explicit, but show accurate)

Sad Cliffhanger

*A quick not about the author’s knowledge re: blood loss, burns, etc: I really don’t know a lot, and ya girl got the squeams real bad trying to research that shit so I took extreme artistic license with it.

Chapter Five [Previous Chapter][First Chapter]

- - - - - Nureyev’s POV - - - - -

Nureyev crouched next to Juno in the sewers, just below the grate Rita had helped identify as having the least amount of security near it, while simultaneously being close enough to the vault they intended to hit.

They had met at Nureyev’s new,much less reputable, hotel that morning to go over the plan again; wait until the change in security rotations, loop the camera feeds for twenty minutes, hit the vault and get out. Even if an alarm got tripped, they would have a solid five minutes to get back out before anyone would be able to find them. It was straightforward and easy, the closest thing to a guarantee Nureyev had ever worked with.

Nureyev had arranged to have the room for two nights, just long enough to complete the job and meet with one of his contacts to have the weapons disposed of. He wouldn’t need the room any longer than that, and again, the job was in-and-out, like stealing candy from a baby.

Juno, however, was not impressed.

“We’re not stealing candy, Nureyev!” Juno had snapped back at the hotel, pushing Nureyev back with his hand on his chest. Nureyev had pouted a bit, the kiss he had been angling for rebuffed completely. “And our mark isn’t a baby.  We’re stealing weapons from the mayor and a Piranha-faced goon!”

“Semantics, dear,” Nureyev had replied, smoothing his palms down the front of Juno’s turtleneck. “Believe me when I say we’ll be back here by dinner, time enough to celebrate a heist well-done, and then we’re off to the Cerberus Province to have the weapons destroyed.”

Nureyev had kissed him soundly at that, swallowing Juno’s indignant squawk and sighing when Juno opened for him and relaxed into the embrace. Then the beautiful detective made an annoyed sound and pulled away.

“Now you’re just asking for disaster to happen, Nureyev,” Juno grumbled, pushing away to grab his coat. “It’s arrogant. I don’t like it.”

“My goodness, my dear detective, I do love your commitment to complaining, but perhaps we could use some optimism?” Nureyev said with a fond smile and Juno sneered a bit.

“Sorry, Nureyev, I’ve got two settings and they’re both Insufferable Pessimist,” Juno deadpanned and Nureyev had laughed.

Now that they were there, however, Nureyev found himself hesitating.

The sewers were incredibly dry, all things considered, though Juno said it would likely not be the case when they left. There was some sort of timed system which would periodically fill and drain the sewers to keep the local rodents from settling in. It was something that annoyed Juno, but had very little to do with potentially having to wade out of the sewers chest deep in raw sewage.

“Rich idiots think they’re too good for rabbits,” Juno had grumbled after explaining, and if Nureyev thought there was no way to be even more in love with him, he had been wrong. Juno Steel took moral offense with the wealthy regardless of what they did, even if it was something as simple as keeping oversized, territorial rodents from dwelling in their waste.

“Glass,” Juno murmured, snapping Nureyev out of his thoughts. “What are we waiting for?”

“Apologies, dear,” Nureyev said with a shaky chuckle, checking his knives again and then quickly redoing the braid in his hair. Then he adjusted his glasses and looked at Juno. “Remember the plan?”

“Kinda,” Juno sighed, and Nureyev almost choked.

They had just gone over the plan as they walked, after going over the plan in the hotel room, and before that they had gone over it the day prior. They had come up with the plan together, and Juno only kinda knew it?

“Juno,” he scolded, calculating if he should risk this leg of the job alone, or back out entirely and return when Juno was better prepared.

“I’m joking, Glass,” Juno said with a laugh. “You always this tense before a job?”

“Only when I stand to lose more than I’m willing to,” Nureyev answered honestly, and Juno bit the inside of his cheek, clearly embarrassed by the sincerity. Hitting a button on his comms to loop the security feeds, Nureyev nodded.  “Let’s go then.”

“I’ve got your back,” Juno agreed, waiting for Nureyev to climb up ahead of him.

Objectively, Nureyev knew that Juno was capable, and since half of the plan was comprised of Juno’s ideas, there was no reason to doubt that the detective was more than equipped to be there. But now that Nureyev was faced with the reality of Juno going into a situation that could end in his death, he found himself distracted with his anxiety.

Their way into the vault from there was simple as Nureyev checked each door on their way in, looking for any traps but there hadn’t been any. That was concerning to him, but he didn’t mention it to Juno. Doing so would only distract the detective, and he couldn’t have that. Nureyev glanced back at the private eye while he checked a doorway for traps, taking in the way he hung close to him, his eye scanning the hall while glancing at his own comms to double-check that the feeds were looping properly.

Nureyev couldn’t help the way his gaze lingered on the detective either, especially considering the fit of his black pants and black turtleneck. The thigh-holster for his blaster and black gloves were also something of a distraction if Nureyev let his gaze stray, so he kept his focus on moving forward.

“The vault should be just through here,” Nureyev whispered as he checked the next door for traps. Once he confirmed the door to be free of any sort of danger from that side, he carefully opened it and stepped inside.

The vault was a decently sized room with several shelves of various valuable items. Checking his watch, Nureyev hummed. “We’ve made excellent time, Juno!” he began as he turned to look at the detective. “So let’s grab the— Juno. Dear. Where, might I ask, is your glove?”

Juno jumped and looked sheepishly down at the bare hand holding his blaster. “The glove felt wrong on the trigger,” he explained briefly and Nureyev couldn’t help the eye-roll, or the sigh.

“You need to wear both of the gloves, Juno,” he scolded and Juno just shook his head.

“I’m not putting the glove back on,” he said resolutely. “I’ll only touch my blaster, okay?”

Nureyev huffed, annoyed by the sudden stubbornness over something silly. “We don’t have time to argue this. Let’s grab the weapons and go.”

Juno pointed out the cases and Nureyev was still surprised at how small they apparently were. Juno had told Nureyev just how compact the tyrannical leadership over Brahma had made their Guardian Angel System, but he hadn’t quite believed it until he saw it. They hardly needed two bags to carry them out, but they shared the load nonetheless.

Nureyev checked his watch again and decided that there was plenty of time for him to window shop. There were several shelves of blasters, knives, and jewellery to choose from, and Nureyev happily let his eyes— and sticky fingers— travel over the knives and one of the blasters.

Blasters were never Nureyev’s thing, but for the lady huffing impatiently behind him, however… 

It was certainly prettier than the blaster sitting in Juno’s holster, he reasoned as he took it off the shelf and slipped it into his bag.

“Glass, c’mon. Let’s go,” Juno snapped, shifting uncomfortably as he waited.

Nureyev merely made a tutting noise as he continued to peruse the shelves of jewellery, pausing at a tray of bracelets. “Yes, yes, dear. In a moment,” he replied dismissively, absently waving at Juno over his shoulder.

“We don’t have time for this, Glass.

Nureyev smirked over his shoulder at the detective, allowing him to see him pocket a bracelet and it’s matching necklace. Juno let out an affronted noise and spluttered a bit.

“You do realize I could still arrest you, right?” Juno threatened. At that, Nureyev hummed thoughtfully before grinning toothily at the detective.

“Have I told you how much I love it when you get all morally outraged like that?” he asked with an eyebrow raised, his voice barely more than a purr. “It does a lot for me.”

Juno sucked in a shaky breath, nostrils flaring as he bit the inside of his cheek. Shaking his head sharply, he returned to glaring.

“Glass, this is not the time for that,” he said, though he sounded slightly breathless. When Nureyev’s watch chirped a five-minute warning, Juno turned to reach for the door, snapping, “Seriously, Glass, let’s go!”

Nureyev realized a moment too late that Juno’s hand was still bare, and no longer holding his blaster. Still, just as Juno grabbed the doorknob, Nureyev hissed, “Juno, wait—”

Juno gasped the moment his hand touched it, wrenching his hand back just as the lights turned red around them and alarms began to blare.

“Juno,” Nureyev scolded, but the detective was pointedly keeping his back to Nureyev as he inspected something on his palm.

“So…” Juno began slowly, obviously trying to keep his tone light. “I probably need a tetanus shot, and… we’re kinda… in trouble?”

Nureyev pinched the bridge of his nose just below his glasses, and let out a low sound. “Oh, are we?”

“Hey!” Juno said as he turned to glare. “Don’t act like this is only my fault.”

Nureyev scoffed at that and turned back to the trays of bracelets to grab something he had been eyeing before Juno’s blunder. “Who was it that went and opened the boobytrapped door with his bare hand, Juno dear?” he asked sourly, zipping up his bag and slinging it over his shoulders. “It certainly was not me.”

When he turned to face Juno, the detective was a glorious vision of indignance and bratty petulance. If Nureyev wasn’t so annoyed with him, he would have kissed the detective.

“It was supposed to be in-and-out, Glass!” Juno groaned. “None of this browsing! If you were planning to go shopping, you should’ve maybe told me?”

Nureyev only stared at him for a moment, making a sceptical noise in the back of his throat. “Juno,” he said flatly. “I am a thief.”

“Yeah, I know that Glass, but I figured—”

“And I told you to let me handle all the doors—”

“How was I supposed to know—”

“No, enough,” Nureyev said with a huff. “I’ll win this argument later—”

“What?! You’ll win— ?”

“ —and we need to get out of here, and fast,” he finished, checking the door one last time before opening it and hurrying into the hall, Juno following closely behind him.

As they hurried through the halls, they began to hear snatches of conversation from approaching thugs, shouting orders to find the intruders. The goons were getting closer, and Nureyev and Juno were running out of time.

“We’re not gonna make it, Glass,” Juno hissed, and Nureyev had nothing to say to that.

“Boss wants him taken straight to her!”

Juno cursed. “The goddamn Piranha!”

Nureyev glanced back at Juno and his heart stopped at the naked fear on his face. They couldn’t both make it out, and both of them getting caught was not an option. When it came down to choosing between the two of them, Nureyev knew what he should do.

When trouble arises, he disappears. That had been his way for as long as he could remember, and it had kept him alive.

He knew what he should do.

Nureyev grabbed Juno’s wrist and pulled him into a small alcove, swinging his bag off of his back and pushing it into Juno’s hands. “Take it,” he said firmly. “And give me your comms.”

Juno looked up at him, confused and absolutely beautiful, and Nureyev’s heart ached. “Nur— ?”

“Hush, love, give me your comms,” Nureyev insisted again, and Juno handed it over almost robotically. Nureyev smiled winningly at Juno as he punched in a set of coordinates. “This is my friend. He’ll help destroy the weapons—”

Juno made a sound, something that fell somewhere between a sceptical laugh and a sob. “N— Glass, don’t be stupid!” he hissed, and when Nureyev looked at him, he saw real anger in his expression. “She’ll kill you!”

“You don’t know that, love,” Nureyev replied with a shake of his head, pushing the comms back into his hands. Nureyev had very little confidence in his odds, but he wouldn’t tell Juno that. “I stand a better chance of talking my way out than you do.”

Juno shook his head and hissed, “I don’t like this, Glass. We can figure something else out, something that doesn’t involve playing right into that sociopath’s hands—”

“I’ll be fine, my love,” Nureyev said, pressing his fingers gently over Juno’s lips. “I’ll meet you at the hotel before you know it.”

Juno stared at him, his visible eye glassy with unshed tears, and when Nureyev moved to turn away, Juno grabbed the straps of the holster for his knives. There was a storm of emotions on the detective’s face, and Nureyev felt swept away by it; completely bowled over and left stranded out at sea.

Juno Steel was so handsome, and Peter Nureyev couldn’t remember how to breathe in the face of that.

“You better,” Juno finally said in a low voice before he pulled Nureyev down to capture his lips in something desperate and needy. Nureyev sighed and immediately deepened the kiss, opening for Juno’s tongue and cradling his face with one hand.

“Wait here for a few minutes, then get to the sewers,” Nureyev whispered quickly as he pulled away. “If I’m not back at the hotel by tomorrow morning, call my friend. Do not wait for me.”

Nureyev did not wait for Juno to respond before he left the alcove and darted back down the hall in the direction they had come. 

There was a knife ready in his hand when he turned the next corner, and it found a home briefly in the side of a thug’s throat. Pulling it back out, he dodged the spray of blood and the meaty paw of another large thug, opening that one’s inner thigh with an efficient and deep slice of the knife in Nureyev’s other hand.

Thug number three was still barrelling forward and had not registered the veritable lake of blood that Nureyev had just formed in the hall and slipped, practically slitting his own throat as Nureyev slashed his blade through the air. There was a fourth goon coming at him, and Nureyev laughed at his approach, flipping the blade in his hand and throwing it.

The knife sunk home in the thug’s throat and he stumbled, choking wetly and stupidly reaching up to pull the blade out. Nureyev was hopeful for a moment that perhaps he could flee, catch up to Juno and they could run together.

Something hit the side of his head hard enough for his vision to white-out. He managed to stay standing, but he was thrown against the wall and dropped his other knife. When his vision returned, he saw that the hit had come from a baton in the hands of a thug who had arrived on the scene from behind him. There were two other men in the hall as well, and all three converged on him.

Nureyev was able to dodge the first few hits, but pinned as he was against the wall, one finally landed against his ribs and he lost his feet. Winded, he fell to his knees and through sheer luck, his hand found the blade he dropped. Nureyev slashed blindly, still gasping for breath, and he took a steel-toed boot to the stomach for his efforts.

He wheezed as he finished falling to the ground, and distantly he heard the sound of crackling electricity before every nerve in his body lit up in agony. Nureyev wasn’t even sure how long he’d been convulsing on the ground before he was able to register that there was some sort of pronged baton pressed into his side sending a vicious current through him. 

Just as he was about to black out, the thug backed off and Nureyev immediately gagged, bringing up the meager breakfast he had eaten that morning. He felt like his entire body was on fire, every single cell vibrating and crackling, and his lungs burned as he sucked in air desperately. Nureyev could smell something burning, and after a few dazed moments he realized it was his own skin where the prongs had been held.

“Well, gentlemen,” Nureyev began, his voice hoarse as he tried to push himself up from the floor. “That was certainly exhilarating—”

The thug sneered cruelly and caught Nureyev with the baton again.

He blacked out that time, and when he came to, he was being dragged into a room somewhere in the vault and shackled to a chair. 

Nureyev squinted around the room, realizing his glasses were missing, which didn’t surprise him too much. He didn’t miss when Piranha entered the room, however, and smiled blandly at her.

“Ah, the lady in charge!” he greeted, his tone sickeningly sweet. “Perhaps we can come to an understanding? Criminal to criminal?”

“Oh, I’m sure you’d like that, huh?” she said as she dismissed the goons. Piranha pulled out her comms then, hitting several buttons. “But I’m under strict orders to deal with you how I see fit.”

Nureyev felt his stomach drop, but kept the placid smile on his face. “I’m sure you wouldn’t want to anger your boss—”

“You don’t seem to get it, Pretty Boy, do you?” The Piranha said, give him a wide, cruel smile. Pulling another chair closer to Nureyev, she spun it and sat on it backwards. “I get paid whether you make it outta here alive or not, see. But I get paid double by both employers if you don’t.”

Nureyev dropped his smile. “Mr O’Flaherty—”

“ — Ain’t too impressed with betrayal, Glass,” she interrupted with a knowing sneer.

Nureyev kept his expression schooled to one of slight confusion. “I haven’t the faintest—”

“You’ve got guts, Pretty Boy, I’ll give you that,” she laughed. “O’Flaherty knows about your little fling with the P.I., see?”

Nureyev rolled his eyes, even as dread settled into his gut like ice. “What, getting my breakfast every morning from a licensed establishment is a fling, now?”

“You call this breakfast?” she asked, her voice absolutely delighted as she turned her comms toward Nureyev.

The ice in his gut turned sharp as he watched a slightly distorted video of him and Juno making out in the doorway of his hotel room. From the angle and the distortion, it was obvious that the camera had been set up in the peep-hole in the guestroom door across the hall.

“I’d say this looks more like a midnight snack! Oh, you should see my favourite part,” she said with a grin as she turned the comms back to herself to hit some more buttons. “About two and a half hours later…”

Nureyev knew what he would see before she even showed him, knew it would show Juno leaving his hotel room, dishevelled and very clearly illustrating what they had been doing in that room. What he didn’t expect was the way Juno smiled when he leaned back against the door, a smile that Nureyev had yet to be graced with by the lady himself. The Piranha paused the video on that frame and let out a mock-dreamy sigh.

“Look at that. How romantic. Just makes a girl wanna puke,” she cooed. “I’ll say, you must have very impressive stamina if all you did was play tonsil-hockey and bump pelvises, Pretty Boy.”

Nureyev schooled his features into something cockier, smirking wide and said, “I am quite an adept lover, I’ve been told.”

Piranha hummed, shutting off her comms and standing back up. “I’m sure. But we know your little toy is here, see? He tripped the alarms with his DNA.”

Nureyev barely resisted the urge to glare at her as she walked away, grinding his teeth.

She stopped at a table nearby, picking up the knives he had used earlier in the hallway and testing their balance. “O’Flaherty was shocked to see the lady P.I. with you, see?” she said with a laugh. “My people had seen you out with the pretty one.”

Nureyev twitched at her words, ready to snarl something in defense of his love, but beat back that urge. Showing her anything would give her an advantage, and he was lucky she hadn’t been looking at him when she said it at all.

“I can see it, though, goin’ for the matching set ‘n all— well, I mean…” she began, and looked over her shoulder with a knowing smile as she trailed off. “They were a matching set until I had my little playdate with the meddling P.I.”

Nureyev couldn’t keep his neutral expression, despite his years of training, and Piranha grinned. He couldn’t compartmentalize Juno Steel, and that was dangerous.

“But you didn’t actually score the set, did you? You aimed high and had to settle, huh?” she hummed, and Nureyev had to take a deep breath to keep from snapping. “The P.I. cleans up nice, though, even with the work I did—”

“Is there going to be a point to any of this?” Nureyev interrupted, internally cursing himself.

She moved so quickly, Nureyev almost didn’t see the knife in time and barely dodged it, earning himself a slash across his cheek that pulled a hiss from him but nothing more.

“Don’t interrupt me, Glass,” she growled, and Nureyev laughed. Piranha raised a lip in a sneer as she pulled out her blaster and pressed it directly between his eyes, which only made him laugh harder.

“I’m not seeing the joke, Pretty Boy,” she snarled and Nureyev just smirked.

“Oh, but I do,” he said, giving her a once-over and hissing when she pressed the blaster against his forehead so hard he had to tilt his head back.

“Should put a bolt through your empty skull right now,” she growled, and Nureyev rolled his eyes.

“Oh please, we’re both professionals here,” he said condescendingly. “Well, I am at least. Regardless, if you wanted me dead that quickly, I would have been killed out in the hall.”

“Shootin’ you like this would still accomplish my goals,” she said with a shrug.

“Those being?” he questioned.

The Piranha moved her blaster, pressing it beneath Nureyev’s chin and forcing him to look up at the ceiling. “The meddling P.I. didn’t stay outta things like he was told to, so he needs to be taught a lesson, see?” she explained. “O’Flaherty won’t let me kill him, or his brother, but I need to send a message somehow.”

“He’s not here anymore,” Nureyev said, desperately hoping for that to be true.

The Piranha cackled at that. “Then I’ll scatter your dismembered corpse all over his little cafe during the breakfast rush,” she said slowly, and Nureyev didn’t doubt for a moment that she was being completely serious with that threat. “But I’m thinkin’ he never left, and he’ll be coming through that door any moment, Glass. He’s predictably noble like that.”

“You would settle for killing me and letting him find my body?” Nureyev asked sceptically, because in the end that just didn’t seem like Piranha’s style.

“If I have to. But for now, I’m gonna have fun while I wait for our little lady, see?” she said, taking the tip of the blade and dragging it along the sharp line of his jaw and grinning at the blood the began to drip for the gash. Nureyev refused to give her the satisfaction of a reaction. “Then I’m gonna gut you while he watches.”

When Nureyev didn’t respond to the taunt, nor the wound she just opened on his face, she just grinned. “Let’s hope your P.I. doesn’t keep you waitin’ too long.”

Nureyev only hoped that Juno had listened and wouldn’t return for him.

- - - - - Juno’s POV - - - - -

Juno wasn’t sure how long he sat in that alcove, waiting for the sounds to subside. His thoughts were going a million miles a minute, trying to process what he had heard and line it up with what he was expected to do.

He knew the right thing to do was leave, go back to the hotel, and contact Nureyev’s “friend”. But every time Juno thought about leaving, he would just hear the crackle of electricity and the awful noise Nureyev made.

Shaking his head, Juno got ready to leave the alcove. He would trust Nureyev to figure out how to escape; if anyone could manage it, Nureyev could.

Juno almost made it back to the sewer grate, the trek slow-going as he had to assess the blindspots of the security cameras in real-time. Just before he reached the grate, he heard voices approaching in a hurry, and he had to quickly duck into another alcove. It was full of crates, which he used for cover to wait out the voices, holding his breath.

As the group passed, their radios crackled. “Keep an eye out for the detective.” It was the Piranha, and she knew Juno was there. Just below her voice, Juno could hear the quiet sounds of someone’s pained gasping and he knew it was Nureyev. “He’s still here somewhere.”

Just before the radio cut, he heard the beginnings of a stifled groan and felt his insides turn to lead as he realized several things all at once. One, the Piranha knew he and Nureyev were working together. Two, she was waiting for Juno. Three, she would torture Nureyev either until Juno showed up or she got bored and put a laser bolt through his head. Lastly, he knew that if he left, he would put Benten and Rita in immediate danger.

He knew the “right” thing to do. 

They both knew the risks when they went into the job, and he knew if the roles were reversed, he would want Nureyev to get out and finish it. Juno could pick Benten and Rita up, maybe even Mick, and take them with him to dispose of the weapons. They could hide out in the Cerberus Province, or lay low in Olympus Mons for a while after, and come back when the heat had died down a bit.

Nureyev knew the risk. Nureyev told him to leave. Juno knew what he had to do.

Taking his blaster out of its holster at his thigh, Juno began sneaking back through the halls, away from the sewer grate.

Turning a corner, he found himself standing amongst four bodies and a lot of blood. Juno knew it was Nureyev’s handiwork and couldn’t help the little flutter of admiration at his skill, even if it was alarming.  There was a substantial trail of bloody footprints and the mark of something large being dragged leading away from the scene. He carefully followed the tracks, staying out of the view of the cameras and keeping his ears peeled for any patrolling goons.

Juno finally arrived at an open doorway, and inside he could hear Nureyev talking. Relief flooded Juno as he carefully walked up, making sure not to make any sound to alert the Piranha to his presence.

As he stepped up to the open door, he peeked around the doorjamb in time to watch the Piranha pistol-whip Nureyev with her blaster. The hit seemed to catch him by surprise and he was thrown in his chair, leaning over the arm of it while the Piranha laughed. Juno’s gut clenched when Nureyev didn’t immediately sit back up, and it took everything in him to not jump in, blaster firing when she grabbed a fistful of Nureyev’s hair and hauled him back up.

There were several conflicting emotions roiling in Juno’s gut with the way Nureyev looked up at the Piranha. He was looking up at her, eyes sharp and bright, wearing the most dangerous smile Juno had ever seen on a person, his sharp fox’s teeth coated in blood.

Juno was mostly frustrated that Nureyev would taunt her with his grin like that so brazenly, but he couldn’t deny just how good Nureyev looked in his own element.

But Juno couldn’t ignore all of the open wounds on Nureyev’s cheeks, jaw, arms and chest. Not to mention the horrible burn on his stomach, likely from whatever was used to electrocute him.

The Piranha was losing her patience, that was obvious by the way she paced in front of Nureyev. “Lose the grin, Pretty Boy,” she snapped, and Nureyev snorted.

“People often smile at clowns,” Nureyev replied sweetly, and was rewarded with another hit, this one throwing Nureyev hard enough that his chair tipped over with a loud crash. Juno nearly rushed in, but when he looked down at the thief, he was looking right at him, shaking his head subtly.

Juno wasn’t sure what that meant, or what Nureyev was trying to say. Did he want Juno to wait? Or perhaps leave? Since Juno refused to do the latter, he buckled down to do the former.

The Piranha grabbed Nureyev by his hair again, as well as the arm of the chair, and dragged him back up with a loud screech of the chair’s legs against the tiles.

“You got quite the mouth on you, Glass,” she snarled, twisting the fist she had in his hair harder and shaking his head roughly.

When she released him, Nureyev made a humming noise while he obviously moved his tongue around in his mouth. He made a face after a bit and turned his head to the side to spit out a thick glob of blood and two teeth; a sharp incisor and an even sharper canine.

“Yes, I’ve been told it’s part of my charm,” Nureyev said eventually, somehow still managing to sound bored. Then he smirked. “I’m also quite talented in other respects as well.”

The Piranha sneered and lifted her blaster to Nureyev’s face.

It was set to a lethal charge, and her finger was poised on the trigger. “This is losing its appeal quickly,” she growled. “Maybe your little lady should find your corpse instead.”

Everything in Juno screamed, his heart stuttering to a halt with the muzzle of the Piranha’s blaster pressed viciously against Nureyev’s forehead. It forced him to crane his head back, leaving him with no way to even try to dodge it should she move to pull the trigger.

Juno couldn’t stay out of it.

Lifting his blaster, he shot a bolt to stun, the blast hitting her in the shoulder with enough force to knock her own blaster out of her hand. The Piranha didn’t go down, however, and without hesitation she ducked behind Nureyev and lifted one of Nureyev’s own knives to his throat.

Juno froze as she pressed the knife against Nureyev’s throat until a new trail of blood trickled down his neck. Nureyev hissed a bit and leaned back to ease some of the pressure.

“See, what’d I tell you, Glass?” she said with a loud laugh. “The former deadeye, here to save the thief. It’s like a fairytale.”

“I told you to leave,” Nureyev said sternly to Juno, ignoring the Piranha entirely.

“Yeah, well, you can thank me later,” Juno quipped, annoyed that Nureyev would scold him for saving his life. Then he turned his attention to the Piranha. “How the hell are you still standing, Piranha?

“Got me a nice vest here, see? Blaster-proof,” she replied and Juno could only see her eye around Nureyev’s head. “You’re gonna have to pack something a lot fatter than that bad boy for even a lethal charge to get through, P.I.”

Juno glared at that, the hand holding his blaster shaking a bit with his anger.

“Now, how ‘bout you lower that blaster and we talk like proper adults,” the Piranha said after a few moments.

When Juno didn’t immediately follow her request, she pulled up on the blade at Nureyev’s throat, forcing him to scramble up in his seat so he could tilt his head and throat to save himself from having his throat slit. Nureyev was standing as much as his shackled ankles and wrists would allow him, and the trail of blood down his throat ran a bit thicker.

“C’mon, P.I. He ain’t gonna be able to hold this position for too long,” the Piranha taunted, but Nureyev was shaking his head at him again, the movement subtle and only perceptible to Juno because he was watching the thief so closely.

Juno was torn. There was nothing to stop her from giving Nureyev a close shave if he dropped his blaster, but she was too protected where she currently crouched behind Nureyev. Juno may have attempted that shot when he had both eyes, but even with all his practice he didn’t quite trust his abilities. But she also had to have known that unless she had some form of back-up, she couldn’t kill Nureyev just yet or Juno would put her down.

Lowering his blaster, Juno barely restrained his sigh of relief when the Piranha allowed Nureyev to sit back down.

“I told you to leave, Juno,” Nureyev repeated, his voice strained with pain.

“Yeah, Glass, and you also said you could talk your way out of this,” Juno snapped.

“It doesn’t matter what—”

“Don’t, Glass. It does matter,” Juno interrupted. ‘You matter,’ was what he wanted to say, but he refused to give that sort of ammunition to the Piranha. “And what, I leave her and she tortures you until her goons pick me up and drag me back anyway? Or grab my brother? Rita?”

The Piranha laughed and leaned out around Nureyev to meet Juno’s eye. She was still too hidden behind Nureyev’s head, and Juno wouldn’t shoot until he was absolutely sure he wouldn’t hit Nureyev, too.

“The P.I. gets it, Pretty Boy. You ain’t got many friends, huh? That’s smart in our line of work,” she said. “We only have ourselves to look out for, so no one can have somethin’ sticky like leverage on us.”

Juno tried his best to ignore the Piranha, and just looked at Nureyev, meeting his gaze and searching for something. Instructions? Faith? A magic button they could press and return to that quiet moment in the hotel room two nights ago, just before Benten called and broke the spell between them?

Nureyev glanced down at the blaster hanging at Juno’s side lightning fast before glancing at the Piranha. Juno raised his eyebrow subtly and quietly switched his blaster to lethal charges.

“Are you payin’ attention, P.I.?” the Piranha barked at him, and Nureyev hissed in pain when she carved another jagged line across his chest.

“Cut it out, I’m paying attention!” Juno shouted, ready to yell again when she moved to carve yet another line into him.

She stopped, and he could tell by what he could see of her ugly face that she was grinning behind Nureyev’s head. Juno was shaking with rage and couldn’t do anything about it until she moved further into view. Her hand hung lazily over his shoulder now, the knife no longer cutting him, but still too close to his throat and chest for Juno’s comfort.

“Too bad stupid little private eyes don’t think like we do, huh Glass?” she said with mock concern. “They make all these messy little connections everywhere they go; keep family around, make friends. Did you know the little lady has a friend he’s known his whole life, Glass?”

Mention of Mick chilled Juno’s blood, but he didn’t let it distract him. He was watching for an opening and he would not miss it, his trigger finger ready.

The Piranha shifted around behind Nureyev, her face in full view as she made eye-contact with Juno, grinning broadly with her countless unsettlingly sharp teeth. His moment was coming, he just had to wait until she looked away so he could lift his blaster.

“And look at you, risking it all for a thief who wouldn’t even do the same for you,” she said, her voice full of mocking admiration.

“Juno, that’s not—” Nureyev began, but cried out when the Piranha carved another line on his chest, though this one crossed vertically through the other gashes.

“Shut it, Glass,” she snarled into his ear before smirking at Juno. “He’s using you, P.I. You can’t be stupid enough to think he actually cared about you, eh? Your own fiance dumped you, didn’t he?”

Juno felt like he was in free-fall, his stomach in his throat and his heart pounding in his ears. “What?” he hissed through his teeth and she laughed.

“I had you followed for months, P.I. A girl learns things, especially when her marks are so, so messy,” the Piranha bragged. “Remind me again how long he put up with you?”

He chanced a glance at Nureyev, and his gaze was waiting for him; steady, strong, supportive. Meeting the Piranha’s eyes again, Juno glared.

“Fuck you,” he bit out, and the Piranha laughed and pulled the knife up tight against Nureyev’s throat again. Nureyev scrambled to stand as much as he could to avoid having anything vital cut.

“Say it, Cyclops! So the whole class can hear,” she said around a maniacal laugh. “C’mon, P.I., I ditched most of my research on you when I got bored of you.”

“Fine! Fine,” Juno started, anger boiling in his gut as she didn’t take the knife away from Nureyev’s throat. “We were engaged for three years. Happy?”

The Piranha hummed and shook her head, dragging the blade slowly across Nureyev’s skin. “That didn’t answer the question, P.I.,” she replied, her tone almost sing-song.

“We knew each other from the police academy,” Juno finally said, feeling gutted by the forced confession. Saying it out loud in front of Nureyev felt like he was being dragged over hot coals. When she didn’t remove the knife, Juno shouted, “I gave you your answer, now knock it off!”

The Piranha eased off with the knife and Nureyev settled in the chair, panting a bit. Juno looked at his face again, and Nureyev was still meeting his gaze, steady and open, though there was a sadness there now. The pity smarted, but Juno figured they could hash that out later when they got out of there.

“So, give or take ten years?” she clarified with a low whistle. “See what I was saying about all those messy connections Glass? The little lady here has so many people just out there with all of his dirty little secrets!”

Juno looked back at the Piranha and fingered the trigger of his blaster, just waiting for her to look away from him. He just needed her to look away so he could lift his blaster before she could lift the knife.

“But you and I, Glass? We’re smarter than that. We don’t get close like that,” she said, looking at Nureyev from the corner of her eyes. “We’re smart enough to deal with people. Those messy connections. Ain’t we?”

The shift in her gaze was slight, but it would have to be enough. It was only a matter of time before she got bored of toying with them and finally finished her work. But Juno also knew it was a race to aim and shoot before she caught him and painted the walls with Nureyev’s blood.

It was risky— scratch that, it was stupid and dangerous. It was beyond reckless, and it wasn’t even a shot he would have been confident of when he had both of his eyes with her so close to Nureyev’s head.

When Juno looked at Nureyev again, however, Nureyev’s eyes were waiting for him. They were so open, so trusting and bright, and Juno felt a surge of confidence go through him. If they wanted to get out of there alive, he had to dispatch the Piranha, and Nureyev believed in him. Juno got him into that mess with his bonehead move in the vault, yet Nureyev still had faith in him.

The next handful of seconds played out in slow motion for Juno.

He lifted his arm as he looked back at the Piranha, aiming as her eyes flicked back to Juno. Nureyev let out a hiss, arching and straining away from the Piranha as Juno took aim, exposing more of her head and getting out of Juno’s way. She cackled as Juno pulled the trigger, not even moving her hand with the knife near Nureyev’s throat.

The charge hit her right between the eyes and Nureyev let out a small sound, flinching and slumping forward as the Piranha was knocked back, the knife in her hand clattering to the floor next to her where she fell.

Both of them were breathing hard in the sudden quiet, and Nureyev chuckled weakly, flinching with a small, pained sound.

“Fantastic shot, my love,” Nureyev said, and his smile was all wrong, shaky and missing two teeth as it was, but Juno would take it.

Juno hurried forward, making quick work of the shackles binding Nureyev to the chair. The thief hissed in pain as his wrists and ankles were released and blood rushed to his deadened fingertips and toes.

“Juno, you have to go without me—”

Juno doesn’t even think about it before he’s kissing Nureyev, silencing his protests with a desperate sound of his own. When he pulled back, Nureyev was smiling sadly, his mouth red and wet.

“Shut up, we’re getting you out of here,” Juno all but growled, stopping to pick Nureyev’s knife up off the ground where it lay by the Piranha’s hand. There was another knife on the ground under the chair, and Juno scooped it up as well.

“I’ll slow you down, Juno—” Nureyev began to argue, sounding breathless. When Juno looked at him as he came back around the chair, it was obvious he was in a great deal of pain. 

Nureyev needed medical attention, and fast.

“I’m not leaving you behind, Glass, so drop it,” Juno snapped, grabbing Nureyev’s hands and hauling him out of the chair. Slinging Nureyev’s arm around his shoulders, Juno held him tightly around his waist.

In his other hand, he held his blaster, still set to kill.

They took their escape slowly, Nureyev limping along beside him, stumbling and breathing wetly. They were almost to the grate again when Nureyev stumbled, Juno barely catching him before he fell into view of the security cameras.

“Juno,” Nureyev said, his voice weak and shaky. When Juno looked at Nureyev again, he noticed how pale and clammy his face appeared, and he knew in his gut that something was very wrong. The thief smiled at him gently, teeth and lips bright red, and he added, “Leave me.”

Juno grit his teeth, ignoring the feeling and definitely ignoring Nureyev’s command. “Shut up, Glass.”

With some difficulty, they slipped through the grate. There was water in the sewers, about a foot deep and getting deeper, which wasn’t great given how many open wounds Nureyev had all over his body now.

Nureyev’s knees gave out suddenly, and he almost fell into the water before Juno caught him.

“Whoa, Glass, watch… it…” Juno trailed off, finally noticing just how wet and warm the arm he’d used to support Nureyev was, as well as that whole side of his torso. Touching the cloth of his turtleneck with his bare hand, he pulled it back to find it covered in blood.

“Nureyev, what… ?” Juno began weakly, before frantically searching Nureyev’s body.

None of the injuries he knew of should have caused that much blood loss. They were all just deep cuts, but nothing terribly bad. The worst injury Juno had clocked, other than the potential head injury and the knocked out teeth, was the electrical burn on his gut. 

Juno didn’t find the wound so much as his finger nearly pressed into it as he felt along Nureyev’s ribs; it was a hole, situated perfectly between two ribs, and Juno could feel each heartbeat pump more blood out of it. His thoughts whirled around, trying to place when it could have happened and he nearly crumpled when he realized; Nureyev’s gasp, just before Juno shot the Piranha, her maniacal laughter, the two knives on the floor.

It was a deep, nasty wound that had been bleeding untreated for far too long. Nureyev would need treatment immediately.

“N-no,” he whispered, cursing himself. “Nureyev, I’m s-so sorry, I’m going to fix this, okay? I’m sorry—”

“Hush, my love. She got me just before you pulled the trigger,” he managed to say. “I didn’t know she had another knife. You couldn’t have known.”

“W-we can fix this,” Juno insisted again, looking around. He needed to wrap the wound, but there was nowhere for Nureyev to sit or lay down with the water rising as it was. “We have to get back up to the street.”

“I won’t make it—”

“Shut up,” Juno snapped, furious now. “We’re getting out here, both of us, and I’m fixing this.”

Juno hauled Nureyev with him through the sewers. When Nureyev’s stumbling got worse with the rising water levels, Juno managed to sling Nureyev over his shoulders.

“Oh, you’re so strong, Juno,” Nureyev said weakly, aiming for flirty, but it was weak and he sounded barely conscious.

When they finally reached the entrance to the sewers, Nureyev became too heavy to carry any further, and Juno was calling Rita on his comms before he'd even finished putting Nureyev down. Juno rolled the thief onto his uninjured side, and Nureyev’s eyes fluttered as he struggled to stay conscious, but his eyes managed to open again and meet Juno’s gaze as Rita answered.

“Heyya, Boss, what’s going—”

“Rita! I need you to pick Nu— me and Glass up at the sewer entrance you found for us!” he shouted, even though he knew he didn’t have to. Pulling his shirt off, he used one of Nureyev’s knives to cut it into strips. “We need to get Glass to a hospital—”

Nureyev coughed, shaking his head and wincing when Juno sat him up and began wrapping the strips of his shirt around the thief’s ribs.

“Love, I’m no— I can’t go to a hospital, just go without me,” Nureyev tried again, dropping his head onto Juno’s shoulder with a groan when Juno pulled the makeshift bandages tight.

“No! I’m not leaving you down here—” Juno began, but cut himself off with a sob.

“I’m not going to make it, my love,” Nureyev said, his head lolling back as Juno lowered him onto the ground again. Rita made a distressed noise, and Juno could hear Benten in the background asking something.

“Shut up!” Juno snapped, tears in his eyes as he rested one hand on Nureyev’s hip and used the other to cradle his cheek. “You're not dying, goddamn it. And even if you are, I’m not letting it happen in the fucking sewers!”

Rita sputtered, panic gripping her voice as she cried, “Die?! Who’s dyin’?! Is Mista Glass—”

Juno could hear Benten demanding the comms from Rita, and then suddenly he’s on the line. “Juno? Is that you? What the hell is going on?”

Hearing Benten’s voice broke the tight control Juno had managed to keep over himself. Everything came crashing down around Juno as his tears welled up and began to fall, and he didn’t know what to do. He had messed up so badly this time, with the vault, and then stalling on taking his shot, and not bothering to look for worse injuries. It was one thing to risk himself, but Nureyev?

Nureyev’s fingers tangled with Juno’s where they rested on his hip. Giving Juno a weak squeeze, and an even weaker smile, Nureyev struggled to suck in a breath. His breathing sounded wet and rattling, and his hand felt cold through the glove he wore.

“Juno!” Benten shouted, shaking Juno from his thoughts.

Leaning forward, Juno pressed his forehead to Nureyev’s and sobbed, “Ben, please.”

“We’re on our way, Juno,” Benten said without hesitation. 

Juno sobbed again and added, “It’s Rex, he’s— it’s bad, Ben. I fucked up so badly.”

Benten shushed him gently. “We’ll figure things out, you just hang tight and stay on the line,” he said sternly.

“Okay,” Juno gasped, putting his comms down a short distance away, and he could hear Benten kicking people out of the cafe.

Holding back another sob, Juno moved to cradle Nureyev’s face in both of his hands, watching him closely. “Help is coming, Nureyev. Just hold on,” he begged quietly, quiet enough that his comms wouldn’t pick up his voice, tears running down his face. Nureyev was trying to stay awake, but his eyelids were fluttering quite a bit, and his breathing was slowing down.

“Nureyev, talk to me, you have to stay awake,” he whispered, hating how broken his voice sounded between them.

“N-not sure I… can, my love,” Nureyev said slowly with a wet chuckle, his eyes rolling back.

“Nureyev, no! Stay awake!” Juno begged, slapping his cheek a bit until he opened his eyes.

Meeting Juno’s eye hazily, Nureyev smiled a little bit and reached up to rest his hand on Juno’s where it cradled his face. “Ha-have to say, g-going out… in the arms of a b-beautiful lady is a n-nice surprise,” he said in a whisper, and Juno bit his cheek against another loud sob.

“Stop kidding around, Nureyev,” he pleaded, on the edge of hysterics. He pressed his lips to Nureyev’s, who tried to return the kiss, but was too weak. Releasing a desperate, mournful sound, Juno said, “You can’t die, Nureyev.”

“W-we all die someday, dear detective. I’m only h-happy I got to know you b-before I did,” Nureyev said with a sigh. “Juno Steel, you were the best thing to ever happen to me.”

“No, that’s not good enough for me. It’s not enough!” Juno bit out, pressing a hard kiss to Nureyev’s lips as he sobbed. He didn’t care how childish he sounded, didn’t care that he couldn’t just demand that someone not die because he loved him and wasn’t done yet.

And just like that, Juno knew with perfect clarity and without even a bit of doubt that he was in love with Peter Nureyev. Even though he’d only known him for a very short time, he knew.  It was different from any other time he claimed he was in love, even with Diamond. The only other times he could say even compared were his love for Benten, Rita, and Mick. Nureyev was important, and Juno wasn’t sure what sort of life he could have if Nureyev wasn’t in it.

Even if the thief couldn’t stay, Juno needed him somewhere in the universe to make it all worth it.

But if Juno had to live in a galaxy without Peter Nureyev in it, he knew he couldn’t let him leave it without knowing.

Juno kissed Nureyev again, sobbing as the thief weakly responded. “Nureyev,” he whispered, their mouths still pressed together. “Nureyev, please hold on. I-I… I need you, I-I-I can’t— I love you, Nureyev.”

The thief sucked in a sharp breath at that, trying to open his eyes properly, and his mouth began to move, seemingly trying to speak. But Juno kissed him again, trying to get him to conserve some of his energy.

“I-I-I know it’s ridiculous, and we just met, but it’s true, Nureyev, just,” Juno paused to sob again, “Just hold on a bit longer, for me, please. I know how selfish that is to ask, and I know— I just got you, I can’t lose you.”

Nureyev nodded just a little bit, but Juno pulled back just in time to watch the thief lose consciousness.

“Nureyev! Wake up!” he shouted, slapping Nureyev’s face a few times, and his eyes did reopen, though they were unfocused.

“… Juno,” Benten’s voice came through the comms, reminding him very suddenly that he and Nureyev were not quite so alone. “We’re almost there, just hang tight and keep Rex awake if you can.”

Juno nodded, even though he knew Benten couldn’t see him. There was a lot Juno would have to deal with, especially if his brother had been paying enough attention to have overheard Nureyev’s name, but that was something for him to handle much later.

The next few times Nureyev drifted off again, Juno was successful in bringing him around until Nureyev finally stopped responding, his breathing ragged and his eyes rolling back.

Juno held his breath as he pressed his fingers to Nureyev’s throat, feeling his thready pulse. Shaking, Juno pressed his ear to Nureyev’s chest to listen to his heartbeat.

“I love you,” Juno whispered through his tears, and he could hear the sound of a car door slam just outside the entrance to the sewers. Sobbing again, Juno repeats, “I love you, Nureyev.”

[Previous Chapter][Next Chapter]

[write-it-good-imagines]

Alexithymia - Bambam, PART 1

Alexithymia = the inability to express one’s feelings.

Admitting your feelings for someone can come with so little time. Sometimes, it comes to late for some of us and Bambam is a part of the unprivileged ones.

Part 2

Hi everyone *clears throat*. I have been deeply hurt to write this, but frankly, I am not half sorry. This is the angst I promised you and it is as angsty as it gets. Enjoy

3.5k words, angst. WARNING!! Implication of violence, rape, and abuse.

“What did you say?” Bambam’s voice was sharp if a little brutal. He couldn’t believe his ears.

“Another photographer is on the way for the shoot—“

Bambam ran a hand through his perfect hair, thus ruining the work of his stylists. He repeated the question, his patience thinning by the second. “Before that hyung. What did you say happened to Y/N?”

Everyone had the infamous pitiful look on their faces, the one dreaded most by the young male. Jaebum approached to place a hand on Bambam’s shoulder which he brushed off almost violently. He took a step closer to his manager. “Hyung.”

The manager took a deep breath, examining Bambam. Trying to convince him to stay for the shoot would result in a huge catastrophe. “She is in surgery now, but the doctors were pessimistic.”

Bambam nodded softly before throwing his coat over his shoulders, frantically searching for his car keys. He didn’t hear his leader trying to talk sense into him, neither did he listen to his manager’s scolding for taking such action, he merely stormed out. Jaebum glanced at Yugyeom who agreed silently not to leave his friend alone, let alone allow him to drive.

 “How long has this been going on?” You breathed out, struggling to calm yourself down despite your trembling hand in which your phone was.

Bambam turned to you with a confused smile on his face. “How long has what been going on?”

You shoved your phone into his face, the texts in the chatroom of your photography team not leaving any possible room for denial. “Man up for once in your life, will you?”

Bambam scoffed at your words and read the proof of his doings slowly as if trying to create some sort of life-saving speech. Or more accurately, trying to come up with something that will eventually make you forgive him. He gulped instead, his mouth suddenly too dry to express any words.

“Say something, goddammit!” You yelled without even realizing it. You cleared your throat and took another deep breath in your lungs. “Lie to me.”

“What is there to lie about?” Bambam’s voice was guttural as he stepped away from you. “I had sex with your apprentice, indeed. For a while now.”

Your hand dropped to your side. You desperately tried to erase his words from your brain; you would even scrub them away if you could. It’s not the mind that was the problem. It was your heart.

Try as you might, you couldn’t hide the disgust on your face. Your silence terrified Bambam; even so, his self-defense mechanism clicked in. “I don’t see why the drama. We’re friends.”

You let out a hollow laugh and shook your head vehemently. “We’re not just friends and you fucking know it.”

“Oh?” it was Bambam’s time to laugh; it wasn’t until after he had said his so-called argument that he wished he didn’t. “I didn’t know we were exclusive, either.”

 “Yugyeom can you step on it?” Bambam asked desperately as if his presence at the hospital would magically heal you.

“I am going as fast as I can, Bam-ah.” He replied in a low voice, alarmed by his friend’s behavior. “Look, I know Y/N is important to you, but it’s not like—“

“It is my fucking fault!” He scoffed and only common sense held him from putting his fist through the window. “It’s because of me that she fucking left last night.”

 You’d sooner have a gun pointed to your temple than hear Bambam’s voice. With each passing moment, you felt a rift separating the two of you. You turned your back to him, your hands grabbing angrily at your hips as you paced around the house, hopelessly looking for something to say. He was right, you two weren’t together, not officially anyway. You knew what you were throwing yourself into when you met him. He was young, he was handsome, he barely snapped his fingers and had any living female undressing for him.

You had been his group’s photographer for over a year. You could remember vividly the first day on the job. Bambam was a shameless flirt; he didn’t know what boundaries meant. He made his intention to befriend you extremely clear. You’d take on the challenge and you’d listen, at first, how he sneakily boasted his previous adventures. And you brushed off his little jokes because you always justified it with proof: his fearless confessions.

As time passed, however, his habits died down. He wouldn’t find entertainments for his nights, none other than calling you to go for a casual walk, or when he couldn’t sleep you were always on the other end of the line. He would spoil you with dinner, or random boxes of sweets whenever he thought you felt down. He would look out for you silently, in his own way, and confront those who’d make you feel uncomfortable. His members joked that they didn’t believe someone would make him put aside his ‘young and rich’ counterpart.

 And you got along with everyone, they appreciated you very much. And you knew how to communicate with them, bring out the best in them, every time. So you were assigned to each and every photoshoot they had, no matter how little. In a short amount of time, you became close with all of his group. He was thrilled, really. He couldn’t have asked for more from you. To his members, you were as much as a family. But to him, a confusing game of push and pull. Sometimes, he’d stumble over the rope; other times he’d make you overthink it.

“How could you lead me along like that?” you whispered indistinctively, blaming yourself for falling into his trap. Bambam could see how you were sealing yourself into your own fortress from which he barely managed to get you out. Instead of trying to catch you from falling, he carried on spiting poison born from his own weakness.

“I can’t have this argument with you again. I am done justifying my words and actions to you.”

It seemed like Bambam pulled the trigger, evident by the emptiness of your crystalized orbs. You forced eye contact. “Say that again.”

 “Don’t tell me…” Yugyeom trailed off, scared to finish his sentence. He glanced at Bambam. “You did not tell her?”

Bambam bit into the plush of his cheek, fixated on the rapid movements outside the window. He sighed deeply for an answer and ran his hand through his hair yet again. It wasn’t like he was a stranger from your own story. He listened intently when you told him you went through an abusive relationship, how sweetly he talked to you and tricked you into believing him every single time. You refused to tell him at first, no matter how carefully he’d build his approach.

Bambam noticed when his hand would brush over your arm, the way you’d flinch violently then blaming the momentum for it. Or when you two had dinner together and spot happy couples. You needn’t tell him that you were, in fact, hurt. Initially, he convinced himself he’d cheer you up and give you a reason to believe not everyone was an asshole. There was supposed to be a line that he would never cross because he knew he would eventually hurt you if he pushed forward. Even if he wasn’t that despicable a man, he had his unjustified habits. But when does the heart ever listen to reason?

  “Look me in the eyes and say that again. “ you dared, your voice boiling with anger. Bambam remained silent, trying to cusp the gravity of his words. Of course, he believed none of his bullshit, but your frame glowing with disappointment and your acid words froze his every sense. He should have kept his mouth shut then. Not now when you demanded an answer you clearly would not get.

“I should have known I was just another girl to put your dick into.” You scoffed and went to the rack to grab your jacket. Bambam caught you by the wrist and you practically ripped yourself from him. “Keep your hands away from me, Bambam.”

His name sounded bleak coming from your lips now. It wasn’t as warm as it used to be when you’d wave your hand at him, or as daring as you’d make it sound when you challenged him to be a better model. Or as blissful as it felt when he made love to you.

“Y/N, you weren’t just another one to cross off my list. I swear to God, I—“ his breath hitched in his throat. What good would it do to say he came to love you when you would not believe anything coming out of his mouth?

You chuckled. “That night I offered my heart on a tray to you, Bambam. I fucking told you how miserable he made me feel, how fucking close I was to cut my own body, to give up on everything. I open up to anyone in forever, you, I let you touch me, I let you undress me.” You stopped to regain your composure. You didn’t want him to see the tears that had been whirling up in your eyes.

He wanted to convince you it wasn’t a mistake. He didn’t want you to believe it was a rash decision he made under the influence of that wine that tasted like an aphrodisiac on your lips. What did he have to trade to make you believe he was terrified of having such a strong and independent woman by his side?

“Did you at least think of me when you were having sex with her?”

 “Every fucking time.” He whispered under his breath as the scene replayed overwhelmingly in his head. The abominable taste of blood in his mouth brought him back to reality. He must have chewed on his inner cheek.

He wanted to tell you so many times. He meant to tell you that you became something more than a friend to him. He meant to give it a shot. Bambam played it in his head countless times, but the right time never came. There was always something coming up that meddled with his intentions. And he wasn’t good at expressing himself. Bambam asked Jackson for advice and the introspective words Jackson would provide would make him think twice about it. He slowly began hypnotizing himself that you were meant to have someone greater than him, someone, who would know how to cherish you instead of being a childish tease who’d cry to you about every single inconvenience. So he’d shut himself up, his feelings for you growing at a fast pace, although seemingly tucked away.

God knew other members took their chance. When Jinyoung told the guys about his intention to ask you out, a sudden fear nested in his ribcage. It was better than way, he’d repeat to himself like a mantra. Jinyoung would know how to take care of you. He’d make you happier than Bambam ever could. It came as an unusual surprise that Jinyoung was turned down with a vague explanation. And that refueled his feelings toward you, notably when Jinyoung hinted at your own interest in him.

Bambam decided he would muster the courage to ask you out, so he brought one of his treasured bottles of wine and showed up at your house that same night. He could never forget the puzzled expression sketched on your face when you invited him in. You started chatting as you normally did, poured one glass after another, and you opened up about your difficult past.

Every word that was added to your story shaped a sort of irritation in his stomach. How could anyone dare treat you like that? How could they make you feel like you weren’t enough when you most definitely were more than anyone ever deserved?

Your eyes then were so alive, so daring and so hopeful. You needed to be shown how special you were. You needed help to acknowledge your scars, someone to kiss them and teach you how to love them. Someone adamant to show you there is sun after rain. He wanted to be enough for you and he knew that walking by your side would bring out the best in him, too. He knew he could, but he also lacked the trust you did. Little did he know you were slowly pouring it, but he was blinded by his selfish insecurities to let you in. He ignored the fact that he needed you to help him take the reins when he kissed you. Yet he forgot completely when he indulged himself in the transcendent emotions you were igniting in his chest when you allowed him to take you.

 Bambam hoped, prayed for you to hit him. His eyes pleaded you to show him repulsion, or fury, anything that indicated you still had an ounce of trust in him. Anything that would let him repair the damage. He was met by an aching look instead and your puppet movements showed him you threw yourself back into the cage you forged for yourself. “We’re done.”

He reached out to touch your porcelain skin but hesitated. Your void expression would not allow him to cry. “Please, Y/N.”

“I’m done with you.”

“No, no, no! Listen to me, Y/N.”

You backed away slowly, trying to grab onto something to steady yourself. You unconsciously hit the lens of your camera and they fell to the ground, shattering in the tiniest of pieces. You felt your soul facing the same process. It took you some time to register what happened. You were supposed to go through the casual shoot you had with Bambam that afternoon to help him prepare for the next day.

“I’m going to buy you another one in the morning,” Bambam said hurriedly, staring mindlessly at the broken pieces. It didn’t take him long to look up at you and regret; the glass on the floor was nothing compared to the state of mind you were in. All because of him.

You took the camera body in your hands and a single tear rolled down your cheek. You pursed your lips and grabbed the doorknob before you exploded.

“Where are you going? It’s dark already and it’s dangerous.” Bambam grabbed your forearm. There was no reaction coming from you this time, only a weak whimper from your lips.

“Let me go.”

 “We’re here,” Yugyeom announced and Bambam practically jumped out of the car to hurry to the hospital reception desk. He gave your name and barely listened to the directions he was given before storming to the floor you were being operated on. Outside the surgery room, there was your manager and your best friend who was also in your team, along with a police officer who was taking their statements.

“Bambam!” Your friend greeted in a surprised tone. “You were supposed to be at the shooting?”

“What happened?”

Your manager looked at him with a quirked brow. He was sure he offered the details to his manager. Your friend gathered the situation when Yugyeom shook his head softly from behind and walked closer to Bambam to grab his tensed shoulders. “I think we should take a seat.”

“If I take a seat now, I won’t be able to stand back up.” Bambam cut her off in a harsh tone. “I need to know why she is in there.”

“Okay.” The girl folded her arms over her chest and only then did Bambam see how red her eyes were. He cursed himself for the suffering he singlehandedly caused in just a couple of hours. “I received a call from the woman that found her in the back of an alley.”

There was a grave pause. A shiver traversed Bambam’s spine and felt a knot in his stomach.

“There was… uhm, there was a knife deeply buried in her lower abdomen and a couple of other injuries that indicated she must have been hit several times before. The camera and the wallet were gone. They must have thought the phone will have them traced, so they threw it a couple of meters away.”

As dolled up as Bambam was, his face had never been so lifeless before. The knot in his stomach was developing into a blind rage. His breathing was ragged and the knuckles turned pale from the force he was putting in his clenched fists.

“She was most likely –“

Bambam put his palm in the air, stopping the woman from muttering the last word. He knew that if he heard it pronounced, reality would come crumbling over him. His eyes flew to the police officer. “Have you found the bastards?”

“We are working on it.” He turned to Bambam and nodded stoically.

“I’ll make sure they rot in prison.”

“Sir, that’s not your—“

“Did I stutter?” he scoffed lightly and took his chin in between his fingers. Yugyeom put his hand on Bambam’s shoulder and squeezed it. “She left my house last night before this… incident.” Bambam glanced at Yugyeom to thank him for putting him in his place. “Can I give my statement now?”

Bambam followed the police officer and shared all his knowledge on the matter. In the time he spent offering the police as much help as he could, including getting the basic information on how the law system worked so he could hire the best lawyer for the case, the surgery had been finished. The surgeon responsible greeted Bambam to put him up to speed.

“We did everything we could and saved her life. Now, we wait to see if she wants to save herself.”

The doctor showed Bambam to your room, but his hand hovered over the knob. He was uncertain whether he was entitled to see you anymore. He was terrified of seeing your small frame laying weakly in the hospital bed, buried in the white color of the dull room that would certainly emphasize his guilt on the matter.

“You’ve made your choices, Bambam. “ he didn’t notice Yugyeom leaning against the wall. “And honestly, all of your choices so far were dreadful. The one thing I won’t allow you to do is run away. Me and the hyungs who are on their way.”

Bambam chuckled to himself. “I wish you would have punched me in the stomach before I made my choice to betray her.”

“I would!” he stated, punching him in the shoulder instead. “If you told me how miserable you were going to make yourself. Stop being a coward, Bam. This is not the best friend I am proud of.”

The sound of the knob being turned echoed in the room, among the constant beeping of the machines that were keeping you alive. As soon as his eyes fell on your sleeping and bandaged frame, Bambam brought his hand to his mouth to muffle the avalanche of sobs threatening to come out. He fell to the side of the bed, his forehead glued to your hand. He didn’t know how much time had passed, or how long he had been crying until he had no more tears to deliver.

It was beyond late to realize how important it was to tell the ones you love how you feel about them. Although he was aware that when you woke up, you would carry a hatred for him deeper than the ocean, he could at least make sure you got the justice you deserved. He could live with you despising him, he would even put himself in your place if given the chance. He just wanted to know you’d wake up. Bambam was selfish enough to wish you’d hear his words, too.

“I love you so much, Y/N, I am so sorry for being the worst living creature out there. But I didn’t play you. I was just so scared of loving you because frankly, I didn’t know how.”

[ggukcangetit]

Dreamcatchers Chap 2

Pairing: jungkook x oc

Synopsis: DI Jeon didn’t need a new partner. Unfortunately, his superiors felt otherwise; especially considering the extremely high-profile murder that had just taken place in the port city. Recent transfer, DI Choi Yuri finds herself confronted with a new cityscape, unfamiliar people, a hostile partner, and a homicide that is certain to bring back unpleasant memories.

Rating: NC-17

Genre/AU: fluff/action/mystery | detective! au | police!jungkook, police!oc

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: mentions of violence, alcohol, blood, drugs, death. basically stuff you’d associate with a murder mystery/crime drama.

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

Acknowledgement: shoutout to @stutterfly​ for designing this beautiful banner which i am completely in love with and stare at for no particular reason throughout the day

A/N: second chapter! i was planning to post a chapter each friday but got slightly delayed this week. reminding everyone that this story features a named oc because i’m still very unfamiliar with writing second person reader inserts. i’m not aiming for strict accuracy in this story, and all criminal investigation/forensics knowledge i have has been gathered by watching crime drama/procedural dramas! my knowledge of geography is also not totally accurate so apologies for that. once again, one thing right by @hobios​ prompted me to write a police inspector! jungkook story. would highly recommend reading that because it’s probably one of my most favorite pieces of writing!

17th December

Yuri walked into the station at 7 am the next day and found that it was surprisingly empty. She had brought a few small things to keep at her desk - a picture of her parents, a couple of pens, a small sticky notepad, and a mason jar filled with snacks. She smiled to herself as she recalled how her old colleagues always used to teased her about the mason jar.

“Good morning, DI Choi! Hope you’re settling in properly.” Seulgi came over with two cups of coffee and placed one in front of her.

“Oh, thank you! I forgot to get coffee on my way here,” Yuri replied with a smile. “And please, let’s not be so formal. Call me Yuri.”

“Alright then, Yuri, please call me Seulgi!”

Yuri was grateful to see a friendly face at the station. She hadn’t slept a wink the previous night, and had been dreading having to see Jeon in the morning. 

“You’re here really early,” continued Seulgi. “I’m sure Chief Inspector Goh will be very impressed.”

“Ah no, it’s nothing like that.” Yuri brushed it off with a laugh. “We’re bringing in a witness today. I just wanted to orient myself with the station before we questioned him.”

“Oh? A witness?”

“Hmm.” Yuri swirled the contents of the cup in her hand, looking at it absentmindedly. “We couldn’t bring him in last night, unfortunately.”

“I see. Oh, before I forget,” said Seulgi, checking something on her phone. “The autopsy should be ready by this afternoon. That should hopefully help you a bit.”

“Perfect! I think we can start creating a proper timeline once we have the results.”

“I’ll leave you to it then, Yuri,” said Seulgi. “I have to get back to the lab.”

Yuri sighed and leaned her head back against the headrest of the station’s revolving chair. She recalled the interview with Mr. Kang the previous day; he hadn’t exactly been uncooperative, but something about his manner was odd. The absence of grief might not be indicative of guilt, but it definitely hinted at something lying underneath his polished words.

“DI Jeon? DI Choi?” Jisoo came over with an uncomfortable expression on her face. “We’ve brought in Mr. Park. He’s waiting in interview room #3.”

Yuri wondered why Jisoo looked so disturbed. Then again, she had only met the junior officer for the first time the previous day; she really didn’t know anything about her or her usual disposition.

“Don’t accept things from people for the sake of being polite.” Jeon brushed past her, the frown firmly embedded on her face. 

“What?” Yuri quickly put her phone into her pocket and followed him.

“The coffee,” he said, as if self-explanatory.

“What about it?”

“You don’t like it. You aren’t going to drink it. But you’re still holding onto it because Seulgi gave it to you. Just dump it in the trash. We don’t have time for  unnecessary courtesy, DI Choi. It’s a hindrance.”

Although his tone was hard and tinged with irritation, Yuri realised that Jeon was right. She had taken one sip of the coffee in front of Seulgi, but the truth was that she hated plain black coffee. Indeed, the last 15 minutes had been spent swirling the contents of the cup but never taking a sip. Yet, Jeon had noticed and somehow come to the right conclusion. Was she really so easy to read? A tiny bubble of annoyance began growing inside Yuri - what gave Jeon the right to comment on her choice of beverage, or anything for that matter!

Interview room #3 was the largest one in the station. Yuri walked in to find a young man leaning back in the uncomfortable metal chair, looking like he was the one in charge. His silvery blond hair was parted in the middle matching the cold hue of his grey eyes and the pallor of his porcelain white skin. Everything about him looked frosty except, Yuri realised, the reddish pink of his rather plump lips. 

Jeon sat down across from him, flipping open a thin file. “Thank you for coming in, Mr. Park. W-”

“Now now,” interrupted Park Jimin, his voice more soft and high-pitched than Yuri had expected. “We’ve known each other far too long for formalities, Jeongguk. You’ve been to almost every one of my New Year’s Eve parties, remember?” 

Jeon clenched his teeth, a muscle ticking in his cheek. “As I was saying-”

“But I don’t believe we’ve met.” Jimin turned towards Yuri, the right side of his lips twitching upwards slightly. “I’m Park Jimin.”

Suddenly, Yuri felt uneasy. There was something about the way Park Jimin was looking at her that made her stomach feel queasy. 

“DI Choi,” she said, gulping down the bile that threatened to rise inside her. “Can you tell us what you were doing on the night of December 15th, Mr. Park?”

“I can,” he said, leaning back once again. “But whether I will, is another question.”

The thing about Park Jimin was that he was being incredibly transparent about his desire to hinder the investigation in any way. On top of that, his gaze kept flitting towards Yuri - a fact that Jeon seemed completely oblivious to - and lingering for the briefest of moments. 

“I’m asking you again, Mr. Park,” said Yuri, placing her arms on the table. “What were you doing on the night of December 15th?”

“I really don’t think that’s any of your business. Unless,” he paused, his lips lifting into a smirk. “You’re interested in joining me afterwards for a drink.”

“This is a murder investigation, Mr. Park! Stop propositioning the investigating detective and answer the question!” Jeon slammed his fist down on the table, a vein throbbing along the side of his neck. 

 “A murder investigation, huh?” The silver haired man finally made eye contact with Jeon, his eyes no longer flippant and suggestive. “Finally getting down to the facts, aren’t we?”

The air had grown considerably more tense, and Yuri sensed that there was definitely something about Park Jimin that she hadn’t read in his files.

“Who?”

“What?” Jeon clenched the fist that remained stiff on the table.

“Who’s murder are you investigating, Jeongguk?”

The balance of power in the room had tipped in favor of Park Jimin when Jeon reluctantly opened his file and took out a picture. Sliding it towards the other man, he leaned back into his chair and waited for the latter to finish looking at it.

“Kang Eunwoo was found dead in his home yesterday. His father says you visited him the previous night and were possibly the last person to see him alive.”

“No.” Park Jimin pushed the picture back towards them. His body language had stiffened considerably.

“No?”

“I didn’t visit him. I haven’t seen Eunwoo since the Grand Fundraiser Gala held at the end of November.”

“Then you won’t mind telling us where you were that night,” Jeon asked, folding his arms across his chest. 

“I’m afraid not.”

“You’re not going to tell us where you were on the night of 15th December?”

“That is correct.”

“I insist you provide a statement of your movements, Mr. Park,” said Yuri, frowning slightly. “Things could get very tricky for you otherwise.”

“I’ll take my chances.”

xxx

“How long can we detain him?” Suho asked Jeon, glancing worriedly at the door to interview room #3.

“24 hours max,” said Jeon, checking his phone. “Unless we come across something more concrete connecting him to the case. Just because he’s being an asshole, doesn’t necessarily mean he’s guilty.”

“Doesn’t mean he’s not,” added Suho, with a shrug. 

“Have you checked his bank records? Credit card usage?” asked Yuri. “We could try and construct a timeline with that - find out his whereabouts, where he went, what he did.”

“On it!” replied Suho with a grin.

Jeon, on the other hand, didn’t look too thrilled. He sat at his desk, flipping through some files that were clearly not part of the current case - judging by how many of the pages were dog-eared and worn from repeated examination. 

“Why isn’t Jimin providing an alibi?” Yuri asked, recalling the trainwreck of an interview they had just completed. Jeon didn’t answer; the rustling of pages the only indication of his presence.

“If the Kangs and Parks are such bitter rivals, it probably gives him a strong motive. If he didn’t have anything to do with Eunwoo’s death, why is he refusing to tell us where he was?”

Silence.

“Unless, of course, he did have something to do with the death.” Yuri got up from her chair and peered over the partition between her and Jeon’s desks. “Something about him shifted after he saw the picture of Eunwoo.”

Yuri frowned, as Jeon continued to ignore her. Walking over to his desk, she tapped him on the shoulder a few times before he reluctantly turned towards her.

“What’s your problem, Jeon?”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. You’ve been an absolute dick since I joined yesterday. I’d chalk it up to a personality defect, if it weren’t for the things that Ahreum told me. So I’m asking you again,” she said through gritted teeth. “What exactly is your problem?”

Jeon shut the file and slammed it on his desk. Standing up straight, he was almost a head taller than Yuri. His strong brows emphasizing the ire in his dark eyes. 

“I don’t need a newbie coming in and telling me what to do, and messing up the system.”

“I am not a newbie...” Yuri barely managed to contain her anger. “I haven’t told you what to do! And I damn well haven’t messed with your fucking system!” 

“You really have no idea about my fucking system, Choi.” Jeon glared at her. 

At any other point, the unfortunate choice of word order would have made Yuri cringe. But she was too angry to consider any sleazy innuendos Jeon was trying to throw into their argument.

“I don’t care what Ahreum said about you. You’re a humongous asshole and if this was any other situation, I would’ve walked the fuck out of here! But as it stands, I will be working here. And I will be working on this case. If you continue making things difficult for me-” she picked up the file Jeon had been reading in favor of answering her questions- “I’m gonna drop this off at Goh’s desk. Then you can say goodbye to whatever the fuck it is that you’re so obsessed with!”

“Don’t you dare.” He was standing very close to her now, his jaw hardening aggressively. “If you so much as touch that file again-”

Jeon was interrupted by someone clearing their throat. Seulgi stood a few feet away, looking slightly alarmed at the scene unfolding in front of her.

“Is everything okay?” she asked, uncertainly. 

“What do you want?” snapped Jeon, snatching the file away from Yuri.

“I have the autopsy report.” Her expression still remained concerned, but she handed the file over to him nonetheless. “COD is blunt force trauma to the back of the head. It’s most likely that he hit his head on the granite mantle above the fireplace. Death was instantaneous so he must have hit it with considerable force - not something I’d attribute to an accidental fall. Time of death estimated between midnight and 1 am.”

“He was hosting a party that night,” said Yuri. “There was definitely plenty of alcohol present. Was he very drunk?”

“I’d say there was enough to loosen his inhibitions considerably, but not enough to be completely pissed.”

“What about drugs?” 

Jeon scoffed at Yuri’s continued questions, his eyes never leaving the autopsy report.

“Do you have something to say, Jeon?” asked Yuri, irritably.

Seulgi intervened before the argument could escalate once again. “No, there weren’t any drugs in his system. At least not the regular ones. I’d have to check specifically if we’re looking for rarer, less traceable ones.”

“Can we get the people who were present at the party to come in give us a blood sample?” asked Yuri. “Maybe Eunwoo didn’t do any drugs, but that doesn’t mean there weren’t any drugs at the party.”

“I can run the tests. Most of the drugs I tested for remain in a person’s blood for at least 2-3 days.”

Jeon returned the file to Seulgi. “There’s no need for that.”

“What?” Yuri snapped her head in his direction. “Why not?”

“You won’t find drugs being used at the Kang mansion.” He picked up his backpack and started walking towards the exit.

“Where are you going, Jeon?!” yelled Yuri.

“Home.”

xxx

lemme know how you liked the chapter! 

[pulaasul]

The Reaper and The Master of Death

Harry Potter and Death watch some events unfold, starting with Tobirama Senju's creation of the Reanimation Jutsu.

[FFN] [Ao3]

--------

Harry looked amused as the personification of death sighed beside him as he and the personification watched a certain white-haired, blue-armored man successfully create a spell, jutsu as they were called in this world, that resurrected the dead, technically speaking.

The shinobi, as Harry learned they were called, slammed his hands on the ground and the three persons that were bound before him had dust, ash and dirt sticking to their bodies up until three unfamiliar figures replaced the prisoners.

"Reminds me of the inferi actually." Harry thought out loud.

"The inferi are called zombies in other worlds," Death huffed. "This one actually grabs the souls of the dead and forcibly puts them in another, after ejecting the soul of the host body," They continued. "It's rather accurate to compare them to the Black Lantern Corps minus the use of host bodies to call forth the souls of the dead."

"So how this works is that a DNA specific to that body is what's triggering an effect akin to the Resurrection Stone through their Chakra and puts the summoned souls into a living body, essentially creating a zombie that retains all their personality and knowledge that uses a living host to exist."

"In a sense." Death nodded.

"At the very least, he seemed not too keen on playing god as the thought of resurrecting the loved ones he lost in the clan wars hasn't crossed his mind." Harry offered. "I'm pretty sure he's just using the emotions and skills tied to the dead to his advantage."

Indeed, none of the unfamiliar figures resembled the white-haired man at all.

"Working with Weasley has strengthened your strategies, I see." Death commented. "You are right, even your very own Albus Dumbledore succumbed to the temptations of the Resurrection Stone and tried to call for the actual resurrection of his sister and parents."

"I'm pretty sure this type of strategy wouldn't cross Ron's mind," Harry offered. "The guy has a pretty good sense of morals despite what we experienced."

"My point still stands," Death shrugged. "He was a strategic genius even when you both were still eleven."

"Still can't believe there are versions of Professor Dumbledore that wanted to control everyone, who'd gaslight everyone around him just to keep everything in his control."

"You've seen for yourself how those Dumbledores are," Death offered. "I mean there are versions of you who sided with Riddle."

"I know," Harry sighed. "Still uncomfortable with those realities." He shook his head. "In any case, back to the man, Tobirama was it?"

"That's his name." Death nodded.

"I don't think we should worry about this spell or jutsu of his to be used to resurrect entire armies, as Voldemort did with his inferi, the jutsu is still limited to the caster's chakra."

--------

"Okay this, this I did not expect." Harry admitted.

A hooded, pale as white man had a lot of prisoners bound up before him as he slammed his hand to the ground, making the earth and dust gather around his captives and took the form of another person.

"I did not think possible that using the chakra around them can be used to fuel the jutsu." Death nodded. "This makes for good entertainment I suppose."

"Even that Orochimaru person wasn't playing god as soon as soon as he understood the jutsu," Harry pointed out. "Even though he has a lot of similarities to Voldemort regarding his animal of choice and his quest for immortality."

"I agree, and he had his hands sealed inside my stomach for some time alongside the souls of the Hashirama, Hiruzen, Minato and the creator of the jutsu, Tobirama."

"I've got to say, it was pretty ironic that the jutsu's creator was summoned by the very jutsu he created." Harry commented. "I still have a lot of questions regarding you eating their souls tho, I still remember being human and that looked like cannibalism to me."

"It's a visual metaphor." Death shrugged. "How I seal the souls is dependent on the cognition of the jutsu's creator, had the jutsu's creator created the jutsu with a gourd as a container in her mind, I would have appeared with a gourd in hand."

"So where are they, if not inside your stomach?"

"Limbo." Death answered. "Until anyone finds a way to free them from limbo, which in this world's case my stomach, they're staying there for good."

--------

"I feel sorry for the Uchihas." Harry offered as he observed the shinobi alliance fight against the hordes of dead shinobi. "They were wiped out, barring a few survivors, and they don't get to join this war."

"Well fate works in mysterious ways," Death shrugged. "It turns out there actually was a consequence to creating this jutsu."

"Don't tell me, the early demise of Tsunade Senju's fiancé and younger brother." Harry raised an eyebrow.

"That and a few others."

"No way! The Uchihas were collateral damage too?"

"Remember one of Tobirama's students?" Death asked. "The one that had bandages all over his body?"

"Danzo? What about him?"

"Well Danzo took Tobirama's paranoia and suspicions on the Uchihas to the very extreme that lead to the massacre of the clan, which tied everything in a neat ribbon."

"But what about Naruto, he's been wearing the cursed necklace since he won that bet against Tsunade."

"What do you think? You're a child of prophecy, the same as him."

"Huh, never thought of that." Harry hummed.

--------

"What great irony." Death commented.

Kabuto has just finished the hand seals necessary to dispel the reanimation jutsu.

"The Uchiha, the collateral for the creation of such jutsu was the one to stop it from running and return the souls of the dead, where they belong." Harry grinned. "It's the man who was forced to kill his entire clan too."

"I want you to meet him and give him a reward for such display." Death urged.

"Any reward?"

"Yes, but if he does go for an actual resurrection, limit it only to one or two." Death nodded.

---------

"Hello Itachi Uchiha." Harry greeted the confused Uchiha.

"W-who are you?" Itachi's eyes narrowed. "The Reanimation jutsu should've been undone."

"It was." Harry nodded. "Take a look around you, where do you think we are?"

"The Uchiha compound?" Itachi looked around. "Only silent and cleaner."

"The Uchiha compound you say?" Harry raised an eyebrow. "Regardless, your effort to bring the souls back to where they belong was rather brilliant." He praised.

"It was in an effort to save the Hidden Leaf…" Itachi trailed off.

"Call me Harry."

"It was to save the Hidden Leaf Harry." Itachi continued.

"An altruistic reason." Harry nodded. "In any case, fancy playing a prank on everyone alive? Especially Madara?"

"Prank?"

"Don't you think it's rather curious that no Uchiha, apart from you, was summoned from the dead?"

"I didn't question the absence of the Uchiha in the front lines. "Had the Uchihas were present the Shinobi alliance would have been wiped out almost immediately or at the very least would prove difficult to be fought against."

"Are you so sure about that Itachi-kun?" Harry questioned. "I was under the impression that only a few of you were able to awaken the Mangekyou and train it's exclusive powers."

"No, I am aware that only a few of us have unlocked the Mangekyou and even fewer to fully harness its powers." Itachi shook his head. "Had Shisui been present in the battle, he'd have killed a battalion in one strike."

"Shisui of the Body Flicker." Harry nodded.

"With the benefits gotten as a summon of the Reanimation, he'd be unstoppable, he's fast enough that no one would be able to seal him, even moreso if Kabuto had sealed his personality and made use of his abilities."

"Shisui's presence would've put more casualties than they already are." Harry nodded. "In any case, back to my idea."

"What does pranking everyone mean for the people battling now would entail?"

"Apart from a short reprieve from all the battles, especially for the living? Imagine the look on everyone's face as soon as some of the Uchihas started showing up."

---------

Everyone has just lost the alliance's intelligence headquarters through the ten tail's attack.

Without a moment of reprieve Madara and Obito, by controlling the ten tails, resumed their assault on the shinobi alliance and bombarded with attacks with its appendages: tails, feet and hands.

It culminated with another tailed beast bomb that directly targeted the entire shinobi alliance, if not for the timely intervention of the reanimated fourth Hokage: Minato Namikaze.

As the previous Hokages arrived, they immobilized the ten tails which gave the shinobi alliance a turn to attack the huge beast.

The unprecedented happened however, the ten tailed beast created 'clones', for lack of better term, of various sizes and forms in an attempt to defend itself from the onslaught of attack form the alliance.

The alliance were able to stand their ground but none were able to approach the main body, where it lay restrained.

Suddenly, a lot of those 'clones' were suddenly slashed and bisected, some were even obliterated.

"You sure grew up Sasuke." A voice commented as he stood on top of Sasuke's summon.

"Shisui."

"Eeeeh! That's Shisui?!" Naruto exclaimed in disbelief.

"The Uchiha clan will officially join the Shinobi Alliance!"

The third Hokage and Sasuke immediately recognized the person who made the announcement, one Fugaku Uchiha.

"The Uchiha clan?" Tobirama questioned. "I thought they were extinct."

"Do not worry about that Lord Second." Shisui grinned as he appeared beside the second Hokage, slashing a clone that managed to get through the rushing shinobi. "We're all still dead, someone used the white Zetsus lying around as sacrifice and reanimated some members of the clan."

"Hiruzen, Minato." Fugaku acknowledged the presence of the Hokage he was familiar with.

"I apologize for Danzo's actions Fugaku, I was too weak to stop him."

"It's too late for apologies Hiruzen, I am however thankful that you let Itachi spare Sasuke."

"Of course."

"Shisui, accompany Sasuke and his companions to the ten tail's body the rest of us help clean these up."

"Yes Lord Fugaku!" Shisui and the other members of the Uchiha clan voiced their affirmation.

With the aid of the Uchiha clan, some that have access to the Mangekyou and Susanoo, they made quick work with the ten tail's clones that some were even able to assist Naruto, Sasuke, Sakura and Shisui obliterating all the obstacles the appeared on their way towards the ten tail's main body.

--------

"Apart from Madara, who's the other man beside him?" Fugaku asked the two Hokages he was with.

"You don't recognize him?" Minato questioned. "That's Obito."

"Obito? Shouldn't he have died during your mission at the Kannabi bridge?" Fugaku beheaded a ten-tails clone.

"From what I have gathered, he didn't." Hiruzen smashed another clone right under his bo staff.

"According to Kakashi, Madara was the one who saved him, his body was indeed crushed by the boulder that we thought had killed him." Minato slashed a ten tailed clone

"This is your fault Sarutobi! Namikaze!" One of the Uchihas with the third and fourth Hokage exclaimed.

"I will not deny my part on Obito's descent, but do not put all the blame on the third and me," Minato shook his head. "It was the Uchiha clan who thought he was a disgrace in the first place, did you not?" He huffed as he stabbed another clone in the eyes.

"From what the intelligence corps had been relaying since they were reanimated, Obito was also the one responsible for releasing the Kyuubi and ordered it to attack the village." Hiruzen slammed three ten tailed clones with his bo staff. "He was also the one who killed the entire clan, Itachi's hands were only soaked in your and your wife's blood."

"He's also responsible why both Kushina and I died." Minato offered. "Why don't we continue this conversation when were done with the war." He suggested as he shook his dead.

"No need," Fugaku shook his head. "What happened to the clan was a series of karmic events that started with the clan doing wrong with one of their own."

"He was such a sweet, optimistic and helpful boy," Minato lamented. "To see him turn out this way was what hurt the most."

--------

"Lee Focus!" Neji barked as he performed the Rotation and destroy all incoming enemies.

Neji landed beside Lee and performed a series of air palms and blew alot of the clones away from his general vicinity.

"Neji… Y-you're."

"Yes I am dead." Neji nodded. "However I was summoned alongside the Uchiha clan to help aid in this ongoing war."

"A-are there others with you?"

"Now's not the time for that." Neji shook his head. "We will battle one last time." He smiled at his teammate. "We will rendezvous with Tenten."

"Yosh!"

---------

"What's going on Shisui? The reanimation Jutsu should've been undone." Sasuke questioned.

"It was undone alright." Shisui jumped from an incoming attack. "We were reanimated right after it was undone." He fired a fireball at the enemies in front of the group.

"After it was undone?" Naruto questioned.

"Apparently, like with Orochimaru reanimating the previous Hokages, someone used the jutsu to summon members of the Uchiha clan and some others." Shisui shrugged.

---------

"Looks like your clansmen disagree with you Madara." Hashirama commented.

"It wouldn't be the first time that this happened." Madara scoffed.

----------

"The One Tailed Beast was once connected to me, I'll get them!" Gaara released a thick trail of chakra infused sand and grabbed hold of the One Tail's chakra.

"We finally found the weakness and that is the key. Leave the Eight Tailed Beast's chakra to me." Killer Bee rapped as he used the Eight Tail's tentacles and clung unto the Eight Tail's chakra.

A chakra tug of war between the ten tail's jinchuuriki against Naruto, Sasuke, Gaara and Killer Bee ensued. They managed to pull out the tailed beasts' chakra from inside Obito but they were at an impasse.

Obito was a strong shinobi in his own right and with the added bonus of being the ten tails's jinchuuriki, that power increased exponentially. He was able to cling unto the tailed beasts' chakra that reacted to Naruto and Sasuke's attack.

"Don't underestimate the ten tail's jinchuuriki!" Obito declared as he pulled the tailed beasts' chakra harder to his person.

The Susanoo armor sprouted a handed from the back and pulled on one of Kurama's armored tails.

"Just keep pulling Naruto!"

The members of Naruto's graduating class arrived and gave their assistance as they clasped on one of tails.

Soon after everyone from the shinobi alliance arrived and with the help of Minato's tailed beast form's chakra, everyone gave their assistance and pulled.

"That's great! Everyone on my mark!" Naruto declared. "Ready! Set!"

Everyone positioned themselves comfortably as they awaited Naruto's signal.

"Pull!"

Everyone from the shinobi alliance heeded Naruto's call and pulled on the chakra.

Naruto himself pulled with all his might.

"Don't underestimate everyone's power!" Naruto declared.

As much as Obito's will had wavered for a brief moment, he was still the most powerful being present, even with everyone trying to pull away the tailed beasts' chakra from him. He responded everyone's convictions and actions with his own and pulled some of the chakra back to him.

"Continue to pull Naruto!" A very familiar voice exclaimed. "Leave Obito to us!"

Kushina arrived with Mikoto and Jiraiya.

"Mom." Naruto and Sasuke muttered to themselves as they watched their respective mothers join the fray.

Another Susanoo armor manifested around the Uchiha matriarch as chains sprouted from Kushina's body and wrapped themselves around Obito's torso.

"I will be joining into the fray, I'll leave him to you ladies."

"Thanks for the lift Jiraiya." Kushina grinned.

"Kushina get in here." Mikoto scooped up her friend and placed Kushina beside her inside her Susanoo.

With Kushina and Mikoto pulling Obito and the shinobi alliance pulling the chakra with Naruto, the leaf's jinchuuriki was successful in liberating the other tailed beasts' chakra from the ten tailed beast, defeating Obito in the massive tug-of-war.

---------

The Sage of Six Paths and the all the previous Kages summoned Team 7 and all the other tailed beasts from Kaguya's dimension.

The reanimated people began catching up to team 7, particularly the Uchihas with Sasuke and Naruto's parents and godfather.

Shisui made one last action of ruffling his cousin's hair before joining Fugaku and Mikoto.

"I'm afraid we all must go." The sage of six paths voiced out as he shook his head.

The reanimated people nodded in understanding as they glowed and began to dissipate, their bodies disintegrating into earth and dust.

Naruto and Sasuke didn't waste time and bid farewell to their loved ones.

---------

"Why haven't we left the living plane?" Hashirama questioned.

"Some of you have yet to leave your earthly constructs." The Sage of six paths shook his head. "Also, as I am the father of Sasuke's and Naruto's first incarnations, of Indra and Asura, it is my duty as their father to watch this conflict I knew I have helped sow to its very end."

"Choosing Asura over Indra." The second Hokage crossed his ethereal arms.

"Go Naruto! Know that your mother's rooting for you! You know!" Kushina yelled.

"Go for it Sasuke! The entire Uchiha clan has got your back!" Mikoto responded her own cheer.

"Mikoto, is that how the wife of the Uchiha clan head should act?" Fugaku rebuked.

"Really?" Mikoto raised an eyebrow. "We're dead if you haven't already noticed Fugaku, I don't care about upholding the clan's values when the same values got all of us killed."

"I didn't realize Mikoto-san has quite a temper to her." Minato commented.

"Motherhood mellowed her out," Fugaku admitted. "She knew she didn't want her sons to inherit her infamous temper."

"I guess I should've known considering how good friends she and Kushina were." Minato chuckled.

"Birds of a feather indeed." Fugaku nodded.

---------

To Naruto's and Sasuke's surprise, and utter embarrassment, their loved ones have yet to return to the pure world and they just knew that everyone witnessed their battle.

"You did good Sasuke." Fugaku nodded.

"You were great Naruto!" Kushina praised. "My son is so powerful!"

"Just like we'd hope, right Kushina?" Minato asked his wife.

"As for the reason we're still here, I felt it prudent for everyone to say goodbye to their late loved ones instead of just a few of them having that chance," The sage of six paths voiced out.

The casualties of the fourth shinobi world war as well as the fallen loved ones of the living people, who just woke up from the infinite tsukuyomi-induced slumber, appeared and they talked with each other like Tsunade talking to her late fiancé and younger brother.

Team Gai talking to Neji.

Shikamaru and Ino talking to their respective fathers, and with Chouji, they conversed with Asuma.

"Wait!" Naruto exclaimed. "Konohamaru needs to know you're here old man!" He exclaimed as he disappeared in a yellow flash and appearing a moment later, carrying the third hokage's grandson.

"What gives boss?! I know I was bored in the village but you didn't have to drag me out of it out of nowhere!" Konohamaru whined.

Naruto shook his head and gestured to the third Hokage.

"Grandpa." Konohamaru's eyes widened. "Gramps!" The young Sarutobi tackled his grandfather and hugged him as tight as he could.

"You've grown Konohamaru." Hiruzen returned the hug. "I heard you had defended the leaf spectacularly." The late Hokage ruffled the young Sarutobi's hair affectionately.

"He has indeed sensei." Tsunade affirmed. "Saved his jounin sensei from being killed during one of Akatsuki's attacks."

"Keep up the good work Konohamaru," Hiruzen smiled at his grandson. "I'm proud of you."

"And so am I." Asuma interjected.

Asuma turned to his team. "Look after him will you?"

"We will Asuma-sensei." Shikamaru nodded.

Soon enough everyone bid farewell to their loved ones: Naruto with his parents and godfather; Sasuke with his clan; Ino, Shikamaru and Chouji with their fathers and teacher; Tsunade with her grandfather, fiancé and younger brother; Konohamaru with his grandfather and uncle.

As soon as everyone disappeared, Shisui, whose body have yet to disintegrate, collapsed.

"What's happening?!"

Tsunade and Sakura were quick to rush to the unconscious Uchiha.

-----------

"Hello Shisui Uchiha." Harry greeted the boy.

"Hello" Shisui greeted back but his hands were on his short sword. "Is this the pure world?"

"You have unique circumstances Shisui," Harry informed the Uchiha. "Someone made the choice to resurrect you as a reward for a job well done."

"Resurrect me?" Shisui raised an eyebrow. "I'm sorry but shouldn't that be impossible?"

"Not entirely in your world," Harry shrugged. "Chiyo of the Hidden Sand was able to resurrect their Kazekage, Gaara, after he was killed hours prior, Nagato used the Rinnegan's ability to resurrect the hidden leaf's casualties during his attack on the village, Madara forcefully used the same ability with the Rinnegan in Obito's possession to resurrect himself," He explained. "All of them at the cost of the user's life."

Would you really sacrifice your life for me, whoever you are?"

"Call me Harry," Harry smiled. "And what makes you think I'm a living person?"

"I mean we are talking aren't we?"

"Where exactly do you think we are?" Harry asked.

"I don't know, I was about to ask you the same question." Shisui fired back.

"Humor me." Harry urged.

Shisui looked around his surroundings.

"This… this is the top of the Hokage's Tower." Shisui declared. "That's the Hokage Mountain." He pointed at mountain with the faces of the Hokage carved on it.

"Looks like Mount Rushmore." Harry muttered to himself.

"But it's silent and cleaner." Shisui observed.

"The Hokage Tower below the Hokage Mountain huh?" Harry hummed. "It make sense." He nodded.

"So this is the boy Itachi Uchiha wanted to resurrect." The sage of six paths observed. "Rather curious that he didn't choose his parents."

"I don't think it's quite that interesting Hagoromo." Harry shook his head. "One of Itachi's few regrets was Shisui Uchiha's death."

"Also one of the very few Uchihas who didn't inherit Indra's curse of hatred," The sage of six paths nodded. "He also loved his village that he essentially gave his life for her survival."

"Shouldn't Itachi be the one resurrected?" Shisui offered his input.

"That can't be done Shisui," Harry shook his head. "It has to be you."

"Why me?" Shisui questioned. "Don't you think it'd be unfair for everyone who lost someone in the war but somehow I'm the one who gets resurrected?" He reasoned.

Harry and the sage looked at each other and smiled.

"Don't you want to go back Shisui?" Harry asked.

"I'm not saying I don't want to…" Shisui trailed off.

"Cedric…" Harry whispered to himself

Harry shook his head as he focused on his current circumstance.

"Ultimately Shisui, you have a choice," Harry looked at Shisui's eyes. "You can choose to go back to the pure world or be resurrected."

"Can I have some time to think over everything?" Shisui asked.

"Take your time." Harry nodded.

Shisui took his time to decide and Harry could understand. Unlike his circumstances, Shisui didn't have anyone left to protect when Harry still had more he cherished.

Harry may have accepted the fact that he may die but when a choice was given to him, he didn't hesitate to grab it.

One thing was sure, things were different for one Shisui Uchiha.

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

"How is he alive?"

Were the words Shisui heard as soon as he regained consciousness, it immediately clued him on his current state: a living person.

"Unlike Madara, he didn't perform the hand seals necessary to keep himself in this world."

"No, only the Rinnegan has the ability to resurrect people from the dead."

"No, Chiyo-sama of the Hidden Sand used a medical jutsu to resurrect Gaara when his tailed beast was stolen from him at the cost of her own life."

"That still leaves the Rinnegan as the viable answer."

"Do you think Sasuke…"

"Why use the ability on Shisui and not on Itachi or his parents?"

"Then how?"

"Putting Shisui's resurrection on the sides for now, how're the people reacting?"

"The only people aware are the people present in the front lines, and the majority of them are indifferent on the matter."

"He's regained consciousness."

"Shisui Uchiha." Shisui was immediately aware that Tsunade was one of the people who was talking about him outside his room as he watched her appear through the door. "It appears that you have been resurrected." The fifth Hokage stood beside his bed and gave him an assessing stare.

"I don't really know lady Hokage," Shisui shook his head. "All I know that the Uchiha clan were reanimated at the place where I killed myself," He admitted. "Alongside the other casualties of the fourth shinobi world war."

"It appears someone used the Rinne Rebirth jutsu on you," Tsunade relayed. "That is the ability exclusive to the Rinnegan that resurrects the dead." She looked at the clip board she was holding." However, there's only one living person who has the Rinnegan, the others who have this bloodline are dead when you were resurrected."

"Grandma."

Naruto barged into the room.

"You're supposed to be resting Naruto," The fifth Hokage admonished. "You wanted a new hand attached to your arm."

"I know that but Grandpa Sage said that I needed to tell you something."

"The Sage of Six Paths?" Shisui raised an eyebrow, remembering the events of the war.

"Well?" Tsunade prompted impatiently.

"He said that Shisui was revived un…kon…" Naruto struggled. "Gaah! Why'd he have to use complicated words?!" He whined.

"You're saying that Shisui was resurrected using unconventional standards?" Tsunade finished Naruto's train of thought.

"Yes! Yes that!" Naruto eagerly nodded.

"Lady Tsunade, Shisui shouldn't even have his eyes." Sakura reported. "According to Sasuke and Kakashi-sensei, Madara's eyes disappeared when he used the Rinne Rebirth jutsu on himself."

"And According to Ibiki's report, the way the Reanimation jutsu works was what their body was what like when they died, if they died without their eyes, they shouldn't even have eyes." The fifth Hokage hummed. "Madara was the exception."

"According to Grandpa Sage, the reaper was the one who reanimated him." Naruto supplied.

"The reaper?" Sakura questioned.

"I'm guessing that's the being that appears when the Yondaime and Sandaime used the Reaper Sealing jutsu." Tsunade speculated. "In that case, I suppose this is one mystery that will never be solved." Tsunade announced. "I'm declaring that the circumstances of Shisui Uchiha's resurrection an S-class secret."

"Isn't that a bit overkill Lady Hokage?" Shisui asked. "It's not like we found something out, and wouldn't declaring my circumstance pose more danger?"

"You are right Uchiha." Tsunade nodded. "However, by declaring your circumstances an S-rank secret, we can avoid people asking questions." She offered.

-----------

"Are you sure you're okay about this?" Harry questioned Death as they watched what was happening in the Hidden Leaf's hospital. "Getting the credit for something that we know is a lie."

"No harm done," Death shrugged. "No one in this world knows of your circumstances, aside from the sage," They pointed out. "Even then I don't think he's sure of what you represent master."

"You and I both know that I'm not your master." Harry rolled his eyes. "You also know how I feel about garnering a title that I did not earn."

"But you did, uniting all three hallows." Death rebutted.

"Yeah if we're talking about technicalities, and you know we're not," Harry argued. "Why'd you even create them anyway?"

"Just like with Shisui, it was a reward," Death answered. "But unlike Shisui, it was a test of morals and values."

"Morals and values?" Harry snorted. "You do know that the wizards and witches are the worst kind of sort, especially the pure blooded ones."

"That's why it was a test," Death shrugged. "I was testing on how they would use my gifts. The first brother was ego centric and a bit of a narcissist, so he immediately boasted his new wand.

The second brother was a lover, but he let his love consume his being.

The third brother was a lot like you, he just wanted a quiet life and didn't want to be in the spotlight like his first brother, he let his love define but never consume him."

"So it wasn't a trick like some books had surmised?"

"It never was a trick Harry." Death shook their head. "I was never angry at them for escaping their supposed demise in the first place."

"So you mean to say that you never searched for the third brother?"

"Why would I search? The effects of the invisibility cloak never affected me." Death offered. "I suppose you could say that the cloak was a timer of sorts and I would only collect any soul in possession of the cloak when the timer passes."

"So if the third brother was the same as the first and second brothers, what could've happened?"

"There are a lot of possibilities, had he used the cloak, like how a certain toad sage would, he could be a case of dying of 'I did not know he was standing in front of me while I was practicing for the curse.'"

"Have you seen that happen?"

"Interestingly enough, the third brother has always acted the same way, despite the different circumstances of how the brothers acquired the hallows."

"So the existence of the hallows are also consistent in other realities."

"Of course." Death nodded. "Let me change the topic for a bit."

"Go on."

"Why'd you mention your fellow Triwizard Champion when you talked with Shisui?" Death asked, curious.

"Shisui reminded me of Cedric," Harry admitted. "I think, if he had survived the tournament, he'd do what Shisui had done."

"You do realize that there are realities whe-"

"Where he's a death eater, I know." Harry finished Death's train of thought. "We both know the circumstances behind such a radical change in character."

"Like with Shisui and Itachi, Cedric was a double agent, using the circumstances of his loss to gain audience with the Dark Lord and the one of the things that your son and Scorpius didn't know was that Cedric was never the cause for Neville's death."

"Cedric was a huge loss to the Wizarding World, judging by the circumstances that happened after the tournament in the world where he supported Riddle." Harry sighed.

----------

"So who's going to be the clan head?" Naruto found himself asking the question to Iruka. "Should it be Sasuke because of his present age or Shisui who was born years before Sasuke."

"What brought this question Naruto?" Iruka raised an eyebrow.

"I dunno," Naruto shrugged. "It just came to me."

"Technically speaking, you're the clan head of the Uzumaki clan Naruto, as its only known living member." Iruka stated.

"What use is being a leader if you're not leading anyone? What use is being a kage in an empty village?" Naruto pointed out.

"That's the same situation for both Uchihas." Iruka answered. "Shisui and Sasuke are the only Uchihas left and there is no need for a leader with only two members, one of which is the leader."

"What about the Shinobi council?" Naruto questioned.

"I'm afraid that the Uchihas have little to no power on the matters of the council for the same reasons why the clan has no head, the things that would be decided in the council would have little to no effect on them."

"What if Sasuke or Shisui were to revive the Uchiha Police Corps?"

"Then they have a seat on the Shinobi Council." Iruka smiled. "I'm really happy that you're taking this lessons seriously Naruto."

"I can see why these are important to become Hokage and being a ninja does not only revolve around flashy jutsus and overpowering the enemy," Naruto grumbled. "Does not mean I like it."

"I know how frustrating it is for you." Iruka offered a comforting pat on the boy's shoulder. "You've always been someone who learned things through physical activities instead of just listening and reading." He smiled. "I know that you can pull through this."

"I will definitely finish this and become Hokage! Believe it!" Naruto declared.

"I definitely believe."

[gettin-bi-bi-bi]

Maybe not the right account to ask, but how can I tell the difference between just being attracted to men and that playing into gay relationships or wanting to be a man? I know it’s common for straight girls to get turned on/find male couples attractive(I mean this as respectfully as I can), but I also know being drawn towards gay relationships could indicate that I’m a gay man? I’m just really confused about that and I can’t tell what I’m feeling

hi nonnie. i know ive definitely talked about the latter case (my interest in mlm playing a role in ultimately understanding my identity as a trans mlm) so i feel like i definitely need to clarify. That isnt the only reason i began to question my gender. i had a LOT of other things going on and throughout my life i noticed many different moments & preferences that, altogether, i see as being a part of my gender dysphoria that i didnt understand at the time. these things include:

hating girly things as a kid, being the stereotypical "tomboy"

when i was rly little i was obsessed with being able to "pee like a boy" even after i understood the "difference" (aka genitals) i still was like. Obsessed with the thought of it like "what if I could.....Pee Like A Boy....what....might that mean......"

i loved writing & i never wrote from the pov of a girl it was almost always a guy. i was all "im not like other girls i dont understand ~them~" which alone is just like internalized misogyny but. even after understanding that i didnt Like writing from the pov of a girl or "playing" girl characters or anything.....i realize now this dislike was bc i felt like i was always "playing" a girl & i wanted to escape that.

I not only hated my name (my birth name was a very feminine name) but always kept trying to find nicknames or change my name to something gender neutral or masculine. I got in trouble in 6th grade where my teachers called a parent teacher conference to tell my parents that i needed to stop turning in all my schoolwork with the names of male celebrities that i liked at the time.

Related to previous bullet point - my friends and i would "role play" a lot together where we just thought of a story & characters & then just improved it out as those characters & to hear them refer to me as a guys name with he/him pronouns was like......i could NOT get enough. In english classes when we acted out plays i always begged for a guys role. in high school i even wrote a journal for a time from my teenage Malesona(TM)

when i did go hyperfeminine & wore dresses & always did my hair & make up etc. it was fun for a time & then it got very old. It didnt feel like me, it felt like a fake person. people have told me after coming out that they thought i was like fake/insincere. I was also extremely depressed at this time so i figured it was the depression at the time but like now i see that actually probably a large part of my depression was bc i was forcing myself to be a girl.

and while these are just my hyperspecific examples from my personal transition, i hope that it shows that there were a lot of other "signs" that i didnt understand at the time even if they seem really obvious now. i questioned my gender since puberty hit, i started binding my chest around 10th/11th grade, etc. all of this PLUS the way i interacted with m/m slash fandom was how i came to my identity.

so i think to answer ur question nonnie - do you just like reading m/m fic bc those r characters u like and u find them hot, or like watching gay porn vids bc dudes r hot & women in porn can sometimes be iffy (w the Male Gaze & all) so its harder to find stuff u like w f/m & f/f vids, & just generally stuff along these lines but nothing to do w how u personally view ur own gender or how u want to be perceived by others? Then youre probably a girl who is attracted to guys (and/or other genders since u didnt specify!)

OR......

are you questioning your gender in other ways, does it make you uncomfortable to be seen as a woman, do you not like to think of yourself as being a woman, do other people seeing you & interacting with you as a guy or another gender make you happier than as a girl, or any other similar experiences where you feel your actual gender is not the same as the one you were "assigned" from birth? if thats accurate, maybe looking into some transgender resources might be helpful.

I hope this helps you nonnie, please feel free to message me on my main @warrenkoles as well if you have any more specific questions or just want to talk a bit about what its like being trans. :)

Wes

[cutesuki--bakugou]

Matsuki

Main Pairing: Bakugou x Koge (OC) w/ Matsuki (OC) Featured Characters: Kirishima x Nene (OC) w/ Otoha (OC), Seijirou (OC) x Dokuji (OC), Masaru x Mitsuki, Kozue (OC), Ryuji (OC)

Rating: Teen-ish? Could be Mature if you wanted to really be serious about it Warnings: Cursing, adult suggestive conversation, pregnancy, labor, birth, very soft Bakugou, cute fluffy family things Genre: Fluff / Romance / Domestic / Family Words: 5,964

A/N: This is the first time I’ve ever written anything like this, and I was extremely nervous and anxious about how it turned out. It still makes me cry when I reread it, so I think it’s fine lol. Forgive anything that I got wrong, I did do a lot of research and watched a lot of labor and delivery vlogs to try and get this as accurate as I can. Since I haven’t had any children of my own, idk how to properly explain or express the feelings of it all. Hopefully I got close. Either way, I hope those of you that like Koge will enjoy~

“You’re shitting me.”

“I’m not Katsuki. I’m not shitting you, that just happened.”

The two lovers stared at each other as Koge stood in the hot clear liquid that had just cascaded down her legs, soaking her orange fluffy socks. Standing for a moment to relieve some pre-labor cramps had resulted in something more than what either of them was expecting that calm and chilly February day. Koge’s water had just broken, and the constant recurring pain she had been feeling the past few days finally made sense. Sure, they knew that it was going to happen at any moment since her due date had already passed them by a week ago, but that didn’t dull the shock any less. In fact, the shock was so severe that neither of them moved until Koge felt a sharp contraction, making her cry out and double over a bit, gripping the edge of the couch for support.

“Okay, Katsuki, it’s now! Right now!”

“Fuck!” Bakugou ripped off his gaming headphones, ignoring the confused grumbling of his friends as he tossed all game gear aside on the couch before leaping up. He was in and out of the bedroom with suitcases in hand faster than one would expect, not even bothering to change out of his pajamas. “Utsuro, you have the worst fucking timing with everything, I swear!”

Digging her nails into the couch, Koge glared at him as he dashed around to grab this thing and that item that they would probably need, though she didn’t care to keep track of what he was getting in her pained state. “Shut up, I can’t help it that I’m going into labor! Argh, oww! Hurry!”

“Don’t rush me, I’m going to forget something!”

“Then forget it! You can get it afterward!” With a moment of a dull pain, Koge waddled her way towards the door. “This isn’t a business trip, I’m about to pop! And rip your eyes out while I’m at it!”

Shrugging on a backpack and picking up a suitcase, Bakugou glowered down at his lover as she clutched onto him, having to stop again as she cried out in pain. “You tell me to be prepared, and then you threaten me when I’m trying to be.” He opened up the front door, leading her out at her pace. “What the hell do you want from me?!”

“Don’t yell at me, Katsuki!” As tears began to stream down her flushed face, Bakugou was immediately hit with a rush of confused feelings, unsure of how to handle any of this. Had he gone to all those stupid classes with her? Yes. Had he read all those stupid articles about how to handle this exact moment? Yes. Was he being calm and rational like they told him to be? No, not at all. How could he be? The woman he adored more than anything was crying, screaming and about to go through the most painful thing she would probably ever experience. Nothing he could have read or studied could prepare him for this. But, he knew he had to try to calm down, for her and their child. If she was upset, it would only make it all worse.

“Alright, alright, I’m sorry! C’mon, you’re doing good.” Encouragement seemed to work well to get her down the hall to the elevator, where she clutched onto the railing inside with both hands, leaning forward and breathing heavily.

“Katsuki, I want you to imagine-” A wince interrupted her, followed by a moment of deep breaths. “Someone shoving a watermelon up your ass. Not a small one, a fucking big one. Oooh, ow ow- And they shove it all the way up into your intestine. And force you to shit it out. Imagine that. Imagine it.”

Bakugou could only stand there in stunned silence for a moment, watching the numbers on the elevator decline. Never before had he heard her talk like this, and that was also a visual he never thought would be brought into his imagination. “Uhm… Utsuro, I don’t think that’s something I could imagine if I wanted to.”

“Did you know that there’s data that women have a higher pain tolerance than men just for this reason? Just for the act of pushing a tiny human through your vagina.”

“This is the longest elevator ride of my life.”

“Shut up, don’t chastise me! I’m spitting facts here.”

“You’re spitting nonsense. C’mon.” Right before the elevator stopped, Bakugou gently pried her off the metal bar, allowing her to clutch onto his arm instead with her iron grip. “Do you want me to walk you to the car or go get it?”

“We’ll be walking for an eternity, Katsuki. I can’t do it, I can barely stand.” Hiding her face into his upper arm, Koge walked beside him the best she could. “Just leave me. Leave me to suffer, you’re gonna hate me after this, anyways.”

With a roll of his eyes, Bakugou stopped at the entrance to the apartment complex, leaving her there with the suitcase. “It’s your turn to shut up, I’m not leaving you, stupid. Don’t move.” Before she could confirm or complain any further, he sprinted out the door at full speed to the parking garage where his car was waiting for him. Left alone, Koge sniffled and clutched at her swollen abdomen, leaning back against the wall.

She had been through pain before. She had bones broken, bruises, cuts and whatever else came with her profession. But this was something that she could never have prepared herself for. The daily cramps she had gone through were nothing compared to these, which were rolling through her body from a dull pain to a full-on contraction that almost crippled her to the floor. It was obvious to her now that these pains she had been feeling for the past couple of hours weren’t just the regular pre-labor cramps. She had been having contractions, and her water had just now broken. It was stupid of her to have not realized, and now she worried that she may have caused extra complications by not going to the hospital sooner.

As her worried lover returned to her, she clutched onto him tightly, struggling to walk through a strong contraction. “I’ve been in labor for hours and didn’t realize it, Katsuki, I’m so stupid!”

“You’re not stupid, don’t talk like that.” Bakugou got her into the front seat of the car that he had already leaned back, helping her buckle in. “Just… lay there and breathe, alright?”

“Take my socks off, please.” Koge struggled to speak between her hiccups and sobs, the way she looked up at him so pathetic he nearly felt like crying himself. “They feel gross and wet.”

Unable to help a small chuckle, Bakugou pulled her socks off as requested, before giving her a comforting kiss on the lips. “Anything you want. Any other requests before we drive off?”

“One more kiss.”

Bakugou gladly gave it to her, though it was cut short as she cried out, wiggling in her seat. “Okay, no more, time to go.” He shut the door and was in the car within seconds, speeding off at what traffic and the law would allow him. Now that he was sitting, he could finally feel how intensely he was shaking. Every inch of his body felt jittery, squeezing the steering wheel so tightly he feared he may just break it. He was nauseous, excited, scared, worried and just all around ecstatic. They had been preparing for this for months, and now their little man was finally going to be here. Still, they weren’t out of the woods yet. He knew that any number of things could happen to both Koge and the baby in the next few days, and though he tried to keep those thoughts at bay, he couldn’t stop them.

All he could do was try to think of anything else. Right now, all that mattered was getting her to the hospital as quickly and safely as he could.

“Katsuki,” Koge spoke between heavy breaths, hands still on her stomach. “Talk to me. Tell me a story.”

“A story? Like what?”

“I don’t know, just something! Something funny, I don’t care.”

“Fuck, uhm…” Bakugou glanced at her as she shifted about uncomfortably in her seat. “Do you remember right after I graduated, when I came to visit you in Eguchi’s studio and we started fooling around in the locker room?”

Nodding, a small smile broke Koge’s lips at that moment, though it couldn’t stand up against the need to wince with another rush of pain. “How could I forget that? Y-you were so handsy and excited, I don’t know why you were like that.” Becoming winded, she took a moment to breathe before she continued. “Why were you?”

“I think having watched you teach a class got me all riled up. But that wasn’t what I was getting at. Remember how loud Eguchi screamed when he walked in on us?”

“Oh!” With a laugh, Koge brought a hand up to cover her mouth, something she did when she got embarrassed. “He was so dramatic. We hadn’t even started doing anything yet, and he acted like we had just committed murder. ‘Don’t fornicate in my studio!’, he says.”

“Who the fuck uses ‘fornicate’ in a sentence seriously?”

“Seijirou, that’s who. Hypocrite, him and Doey probably-- ow, ow, ow damn it! Ah, they probably do way worse. Did you get my phone?”

Reaching into his pocket, Bakugou pulled out her phone and handed it to her. “See? I would have forgotten it if you had been in charge.”

“I am in charge! I’m gonna post online that I’m going into labor-”

“No, Utsuro-”

“- so everyone calls and shows up at once-”

“- don’t do that-”

“- it’s… baby… time!” She typed with furious speed, not giving him a chance to talk her out of it. “Boom, posted. Argh, damn it!” Letting out a heavy cry, she slammed her hand down onto the car door. “Baby time is pain!”

“We’re almost there, Utsuro, just- hey, get your foot off my dash!” Bakugou glowered at his lover as she simply put her other foot up as well. “What the fuck?”

“Shut up, it helps!”

“Damn it, you’re freaking insane right now.”

The rest of the trip to the hospital varied, from bickering to Bakugou trying to comfort her, to Koge begging for distraction in the form of stories or stupid conversation. What was only ten minutes felt like an eternity for both of them, and arriving at the hospital was even worse. Apparently, what Koge was feeling was only stage one of active labor, or that’s what the nurse that got her set up in the Labor and Delivery room called it. After a bit of running some tests and watching Koge’s contractions, they determined that her cervix was only dilated up to six centimeters, and she had another four to go before the birth would begin. Being the stubborn woman that she was, Koge declined the use of epidural, and so she was settled into the room to await the full dilation of her cervix.

Dressed in a gown now, Koge wandered about the room, as sitting didn’t help the pain at all. Bakugou was with her at all times, holding her hands and helping her with whatever she asked for, though it was more like commands. By now, Bakugou’s initial rush had faded, and he was able to think more clearly and calmly to better help Koge cope.

“C’mon, Utsuro, tell me. What do you think he’s gonna look like?”

Breathing heavily as a contraction passed, Koge held onto Bakugou’s hands tightly, leaning forward a bit with her forehead pressed into his chest. “Just like you… He’s going to be your little clone.”

“Same hair and eyes? Everything?”

“Yes.” As the pain subsided for a moment, Koge stood up straight, releasing his hands to instead clutch onto his shirt. Looking up at him, a smile crossed her lips as he gently moved her hair out of her face, releasing the sticky grip of sweat. “Just like you. I’ll have my two beautiful boys, my Katsuki and Matsuki. My fluffy-haired boys.”

With a small chuckle, Bakugou gave her lips a soft kiss, beginning to help her walk backwards again as she winced. “I think he’s gonna have white hair. My style, but your color.”

“No way. I grew him inside me, I know exactly what he’s gonna look like. And it’s gonna be exactly like you, won’t even be able to tell you apart when he’s an adult. Fuck, fuck, fuck that’s a good one, owww!” With his help, Koge squatted down, squeezing his hands tightly. “I hate this! No more babies, not ever!”

“Remember what you said, Utsuro, you always wanted three.”

“I want three without the pain!”

“Well, that’s not gonna happen if you want to birth them yourself. And you refused the pain meds, so you gotta deal with it.”

“Don’t smart-mouth me. I’ll rip your eyeballs out, I swear.”

Before Bakugou could comment, there was a knock on the door, before it opened up to reveal a nurse and some very unexpected company. “Some of your family has arrived, Ms. Naegi, would you like them to come in or wait in the waiting room?”

Peeking up and looking between Bakugou’s legs, Koge’s eyes instantly landed on her mother, who was looking at her with teary eyes. With Bakugou’s help, Koge stood, nodding to allow the nurse to let them in. “Yeah, if they’re family, they can come in. And if someone says their name is Kirishima. Hey, Mama!” Koge hugged her mother tightly as the petite older woman nearly ran up to her.

“Oh, my sweet baby! Are you sure you should be walking around right now, they told me you were almost at eight centimeters by now.” Stroking Koge’s back, she looked up at Bakugou, giving him a smile that greatly resembled her daughters. “Katsuki, you’re being so wonderful.”

“Well, Kozue, she has threatened to rip out my eyes a couple of times, so I have to behave. Not gonna lie, though, I seriously need to take a piss break. Especially before my parents show up, that’ll--”

“Katsuki! How dare you not call us when she went into labor! We had to find out from online!”

The sudden blaring voice of his mother instantly made Bakugou stop, glowering at Mitsuki as she barged in past the nurse to Koge’s side, who was now gripping the end of her bed and leaning forward with another strong contraction. Taking in a deep breath to keep himself from yelling, Bakugou instead looked at his father, feeling a bit of relief at the presence of a man who looked just as bewildered as he felt. Though, as he began to head towards him to hopefully take a break from the madness, Koge called to him, making him stop.

“W-wait, Katsuki, where are you going? Don’t leave me!” The panic and tears streaming down her flushed face made Bakugou’s heart drop, putting his arms around her as she stumbled over to him. “What if I have the baby while you’re gone! Don’t go!”

“Utsuro, you’re being overdramatic, I seriously just need to take a piss and get some air.” Bakugou coaxed her back towards the bed, helping his sobbing lover back up onto it. “What is all this, you’re going from anger to sadness in like three seconds.”

“But I need you! Pee in the pan, please don’t go anywhere. I can’t do this without you.” Instead of laying down, Koge grabbed a pillow, squeezing it tightly to her chest. “Ow fucking hell, I feel like I need to hit something!”

Kozue came to sit beside her daughter. “Koge, baby, let Katsuki go to the bathroom, me and Mitsuki are here for you. We won’t let him miss the baby, okay?” With a wave of her hand and while Koge was busy yelling into the pillow, Bakugou ducked out of the room, leaving the women to deal with the labor pains.

Another four hours went by like this until Koge was to the point that she couldn’t even stand to walk off the pain. By now, the nurse was always present, observing her condition and giving instruction to make sure that things were going as smoothly as they possibly could. Bakugou’s hand was permanently fixed into Koge’s, as she refused to let him go or let him out of her sight for more than a few minutes at a time. She was quite set on the fear that he would leave and then the delivery would happen without him, which was a thought that brought her to tears. Bakugou thought that it was ridiculous, but to keep her calm, he stayed by her side without question.

“Okay, Ms. Naegi,” The nurse began, having just finished with a test to check her dilation. “Looks like you’re at full dilation. You said you’re feeling the need to push, right?”

Koge nodded, sitting up as laying down was very uncomfortable. “Yeah, though it feels more like I have to take a giant shit.”

“That’s normal. Just keep breathing and if you feel the need to push, then you can. I’m going to get the doctor in here so we can start, okay?” With a gentle touch to her arm, the nurse left the couple alone, quietly ushering the parents out.

Once the door closed and they were completely alone, Koge looked up at Bakugou, the tears once again beginning to stream down her face. “It’s about to happen, Katsuki… Our little man is about to be here.”

Knowing that she wasn’t going to let his hand go, Bakugou brought his free one around to push her hair out of her face gently. “You’re doing great, Utsuro… Why are you crying?”

Squeezing his hand tightly as she had another contraction, Koge leaned her head back, wincing and gasping. “I-It hurts. But I’m so happy. Katsuki, you stay right there, I mean it.”

“I couldn’t move even if I wanted to, you’ve got a death grip on my hand right now. Hey, she said it’s alright to push, don’t hold it.” He stood from his chair as Koge did just that, leaning back against the propped up hospital mattress, her cries making his stomach churn. At any second, if he lost even a sliver of control, Bakugou knew that he would vomit. He was so anxious, so filled with a mix of nervous and happy energy that he could hardly take it. Yes, he knew that she was going through way worse, but since he wasn’t distracted by the pain, he was left to his constant worrying thoughts. It was to the point that nothing he did helped her anymore, and he hated to see her in such pain.

As she calmed for the moment, Bakugou knelt beside the bed which had been lowered to accommodate Koge’s height, before leaning forward to give her cheek a comforting kiss. One hand still on the top of her head, he stroked her hair softly, his nerves calmed for just a moment as she smiled up at him. With her tender touch, she stroked his cheek gently, giving a soft and content hum.

“My Katsuki… I love you so much. You mean the world to me.”

Bakugou wasn’t sure if it was her words or how nervous he was, but sitting with her like this filled him with such an intense emotion that he immediately felt like bursting into tears. This woman was his everything, his lover, his best friend and his reason for waking up in the morning. She was love, hope, pride, and beauty. She was his Koge, and out of everything he had ever done or said, she loved him. The burning that built up in his eyes and the way his vision blurred was enough to solidify how much he adored her, and before he could even come up with a response to her, the tears escaped him.

At first, shock crossed Koge’s flushed face before she began to cry again herself, latching her arms around his neck in a tight hug. Hiding his face into her shoulder, Bakugou caressed her petite body as carefully as he could, even though his emotions were so out of control he wanted to squeeze her. Sniffling and trying to clear out his now clogged senses, he struggled to speak, taking in a shaking breath.

“I love you, too. My Koge… More than fucking anything…” The thought of letting her go only made his boiled over emotions begin to steam, unable to pull himself away. “You can do this… We can do this.”

The feeling of her fingers through his hair calmed him enough to finally be able to sit up, his heart fluttering from the smile on her face. Cupping his cheeks softly, she wiped his skin of tears before pulling him in for a kiss. “We got this, Katsuki… Just… hold my hand and I’m sorry if I break your fingers.”

“Utsuro, you could break my arm and I wouldn’t give a shit.”

After a soft giggle, another kiss was shared before Koge suddenly became aware of the pain again, wincing and wiggling as she laid her head back. “Okay, okay Matsuki, I get it, you want all the attention!” In the moment that she cried out and went back to squeezing the life out of Bakugou’s hand, the door to the room opened. Four people came inside, one of them dressed head to toe in protective garb, including a splash mask to protect her eyes. They brought with them supplies, none of which Bakugou could make out, as he was more focused on what they were saying.

“Okay, Ms. Naegi, we’re going to start the delivery now. Keep pushing if you feel the need to while we get set up.”

“Heart rate and blood pressure are good.”

“Positioning is good, no current complications.”

In their practiced and rushed movements, Bakugou didn’t even notice the other person in the room until the familiar voice snapped at him, gaining his attention. “Katsuki, don’t look so emotionless and comatose!”

Glaring at his mother, Bakugou instantly felt his ears flush hot at the camera pointed at him, having not even realized she brought one. “Who let you in?!”

“Me!” Koge wasn’t looking at either of them, but instead focusing on getting her legs into the props as the nurses positioned her for birth. “I asked her to film it.”

“Without asking me?”

“Damn right, because you would have said no! Argh! Katsuki, don’t complain, who gives a shit!” Koge squeezed his hand tightly as she couldn’t resist the urge to push, leaning her head back. “Damn it!”

“Okay, Ms. Naegi, it’s time to push.” The doctor was positioned at the end of the bed between her legs, now. “With your contractions, don’t try to force it.”

Koge had never been in so much pain in her entire life. Pushing that little human through her was something that she could never have prepared for, no matter how many things she read or classes she went to. Every single contraction up to this point was like a little needle prick, though she did have to admit that the effort of pushing helped quell the initial pain. She could feel that she was drenched in sweat, head pounding and jaw sore from clenching her teeth.

Everything vanished in an instant when there was a sudden feeling of emptiness and a warm, wiggly weight was placed on her chest. Crying with an incredibly strong set of lungs, the little Matsuki had been delivered into the world. As the nurses worked to wipe him clean as he rested on Koge, she could only sit there and stare down at him, panting.

“Here’s your sweet little boy! What is his name?”

“M-Matsuki.” Koge was able to choke out, between her heavy breathing and tears. “My Matsuki.” When the nurses finally backed off for a bit, Koge shifted the baby up just a bit higher on her chest to be more comfortable, looking up at Bakugou with a wide smile on her flushed face. “Our Matsuki.”

Bakugou was only pulled out of his stunned state by her smile, that burning returning to his eyes as he looked at her. Sniffling, he quickly reached up and wiped his eyes, overwhelmed with happiness and excitement at the birth of his son. “You fucking did it, Koge. You did it!” After kissing her with an excited passion, he turned his attention back to the still screaming child in her arms. The smile on his face was something that couldn’t be stopped, nor could he resist rubbing the child’s back softly, even if he was covered with a blanket.

“Our little squid… He even looked like one coming out, Utsuro, just wait until you see it.”

“I love him. My little darling.” Stroking the babies arm softly, she softly hummed and tried to calm him, finding that she was successful quite quickly. Matsuki calmed, only giving little gurgles as he grew comfortable against his mother. Giving a heavy sigh, Koge leaned her head back, closing her eyes as a feeling of relief and calmness washed over her. “Katsuki… now comes the true hard part. For both of us.”

Softly moving her hair out of her face, Bakugou kissed her lips softly, before resting his forehead against hers. “Whatever comes, Utsuro, we’ll do it together… All the sleepless nights and dirty diapers in the world couldn’t stop me from loving you both.”

New tears cascading down her cheeks, Koge smiled nearly from ear to ear, nuzzling her nose against his affectionately. “My sweet Katsuki…”

Sniffling and soft sobbing from the other side of the bed caught their attention, and Bakugou instantly felt his face flush with fire at the fact that his mother was still filming them. “Hey, Mom, get that off of us!”

“No way!” Mitsuki wiped her eyes, near sobbing herself. “My boy, being sweet! I have to get it all! And my beautiful grandbaby!”

Giggling softly, Koge kissed Bakugou’s cheek to gain his attention. “It’s okay, Katsuki… I know I’ll never forget this moment, but… I really wanted it on camera.”

Bakugou looked back down at the baby, feeling himself calm just from the presence of the child and the happiness of the occasion. “Okay, okay… It’s worth it.”

“It is… So worth it.”

The rest of the process came and went, with the baby being taken away to be cleaned, checked and wrapped up for warmth. Koge went through the rest of her steps as well, delivering the placenta with no difficulties. Once mother and child were both cleaned up and deemed healthy enough with no signs of issues, the two of them were moved into a recovery room. The first thing the nurses suggested was to have Koge breastfeed if she wanted, which after an assisted trip to the bathroom, she took the opportunity without hesitation.

“He’s so squishy, I don’t know how to… move him.” Koge carefully handled the child in her hands, shifting her clothing aside to maneuver him to her right breast. Quite instantly, the child latched on, bringing a new smile to Koge’s face. “That’s it, little man. Get it.”

Bakugou chuckled, sitting next to her on the edge of the bed. “Look at him go. He’s a natural, I guess.”

“I’m the one that’s gonna need practice.” Koge shifted her position just a bit, though did her best to not disturb Matsuki. “Look at him, he’s the most adorable thing ever! I love him so much.” She lied her head on Bakugou’s shoulder as he stroked her hair gently, both of them watching their child nurse.

“Me too, Utsuro.” Seeing some movement through the window in the hospital room door, Bakugou glanced up, noticing a raven head of hair dash out of view in that same instant. With a sigh, he kissed Koge’s head softly before standing. “Looks like there are people that want to come in. How are you feeling?”

“I feel great, Katsuki. It’s okay, you can let them in.”

“You’re not embarrassed about having the baby on your tit?”

Giggling, Koge shook her head. “No love, not at all. They can’t see anything anyway. Let them in before they have a heart attack.” Making sure that at least her other breast was covered and that Matsuki was comfortable, she watched Bakugou as he made his way to the door, opening it just a crack at first. He hissed something at everyone, probably telling them to keep it down before he allowed them in.

Seijirou was the first, hands over his mouth as he excitedly entered the room, nearly hopping. “Oooh my goodness, look at the baby!” The quiet, excited squeal told Koge that Bakugou did tell them to be quiet. “Doey, look!” Dokuji barely got one glance in before he looked away, face flushing at the fact that Koge was basically nude. Next was Mitsuki and Masaru, then Koge’s parents Kozue and Ryuji, followed by Nene and Kirishima with little twins Otoha and Daiki in their father’s arms.

“Ko-Chan! I can’t believe it! Finally, we’re mommies together!” Nene quietly came up next to the bed, sitting down next to her best friend. Koge couldn’t get rid of the smile on her face, glancing up at everyone as they came at varying distances to see the still nursing baby. Bakugou seemed more wary of the company than Koge felt, wanting to share the experience with everyone. Sure, she may not want anyone to hold the baby just yet, but having everyone sit like this with her felt like such a blessing. Everything had gone perfectly, and now she could only expect that the happiest years of her life were to follow.

“Thank you, Ne-Chan. And thank you, everyone, for coming to visit. I promise everyone will get a chance to cuddle him, but he’s all mine right now.” Koge looked down at Matsuki, softly stroking the top of his hand. “My adorable Matsu… Gonna look just like his Daddy.”

“Aw C’mon, Koge, don’t curse the kid like that.” Seijirou joked with a smirk, ignoring the fuming Bakugou across the bed from him. “That’s the worst you could have happen!”

“Shut up, you kook!” Bakugou snapped, able to keep his voice surprisingly low. “Before I kick your stupid ass out of here!”

Koge laughed softly, watching Otoha as the young girl looked at the new baby curiously from her place upon Nene’s lap. “What do you think, little Otoha? Is Matsuki gonna be your best friend? Bestest friend in the whole world?”

Nene giggled, giving Bakugou a sly smile. “The baby talk begins. You make fun of us for it, but you’ll see! You’ll forget how to talk like an adult.”

Before Bakugou could snap back, Matsuki began to cry, bringing forth ‘aww’s from nearly everyone in the room. Adjusting her gown back into place, Koge looked up at Bakugou. “Katsuki, would you-?”

Understanding, Bakugou nodded and scooped the child into his arms. Even though it wasn’t his first time, the emotion at holding his son swept through him again, forcing him to turn his back to the group so they wouldn’t see it. He bounced and rocked the child softly, hushing him quietly with every bounce. “It’s alright, squid, I gotcha.”

“I can’t believe I’m watching my son bounce a baby, let alone his own child! I never thought I’d see the day!” Mitsuki lied her head on Masaru’s shoulder, hugging his arm tightly. “It’s the cutest damn thing! Isn’t it, honey?”

Nodding, Masaru removed his glasses, his own eyes tearing up. “It’s adorable.”

“You two shut it! Enough mushy crap!” Bakugou hissed at them over his shoulder, still trying to calm the crying baby. With a happy sigh, Koge leaned back into her mattress, starting to truly feel exhausted without the baby in her arms.

“It is adorable… He’s going to be a great father…” As her eyes closed, Nene stood with Otoha in her arms, looking over to Kirishima as the redhead wiggled over to Bakugou to see the baby.

“Hey, we were all complaining about being hungry a minute ago, why don’t we go get something to eat and let Koge nap for a little while? Then we can come back. I know I needed a nap immediately after giving birth.” Nene nuzzled her nose against her daughter's cheek, making the little girl giggle. Giving Bakugou a soft pat to his shoulder, Kirishima joined his wife.

“I agree, baby. I think she’s already out of it.” With a sharp-toothed grin, Kirishima pointed down at Koge, who was clearly already asleep.

Tenderly fixing Koge’s sheets up over her, Kozue gave her daughter a gentle kiss on the top of her head before turning her attention to Bakugou. “We’ll be back to let her rest.”

“Yeah, then it’s our turn for the baby.” Mitsuki began to leave with a gentle touch from Masaru. “I want to hold my grandson!”

“You’ll hold him when I say so.” Bakugou’s glare didn’t back down as everyone filed back out of the room, with Kozue being the last. Before she left, she smiled at Bakugou sweetly, calming him for the moment.

“You all get some rest. Thank you for being so good to her, Katsuki. No one else in this world is better suited for her than you, and I’m so happy you’re together.”

Swallowing the emotional lump in his throat, Bakugou gave a nod in understanding, finding it difficult to respond with words. With that, Kozue left the room, shutting the door softly behind her. The new silence bringing peace to his mind, Bakugou looked down at Matsuki, who had fallen asleep in his arms. As carefully as he could, Bakugou laid the child down in the bassinet next to Koge’s bed, giving a soft sigh of relief when the child didn’t wake. Though, his lover did, lifting her head a bit to glance around.

“Huh? Where’d everyone go? Did I fall asleep?” She looked up at Bakugou as he sat down beside her, taking her hand gently. After sharing a quick kiss, Koge shifted her body over, giving him room to lay down beside her without any cords getting in the way. Bakugou took the silent invitation gladly, carefully caressing her body to his once they grew nice and comfortable.

“Yeah Utsuro, everyone left just a second ago to go get something to eat.”

“You didn’t want to go with them? You have to be hungry by now.” Koge softly ran her hand along the skin of his arm, smiling against his lips as he kept his face close to hers. “I would let you go now… If you wanted.”

“No way.” Bakugou caressed her cheek, looking into her eyes with such an uncharacteristic softness that Koge couldn’t help but wiggle herself in closer. “I couldn’t be away from you even if I wanted to.”

“You’re so sweet, Katsuki... I love you.” With another kiss, Koge nuzzled her face against his, settling in with her eyes closed. “I love you so much.”

Bakugou grew comfortable as well, moving his hand back down to hold her body to his. “I love you too, Koge. Now get some sleep… We’ll have lots of ‘family bonding’ to do when you get up.”

“It’s always been my dream to have a family with you… I’m so happy.”

“Me too… I’ve always known that you’d be the one I get to call my lover… and the mother of my children. For my family, there’s nothing I want more...”

[m-oana-archive]

Heartsease: A Wolfstar Fanfiction

Part Eleven: “It’s Hard to Believe Sometimes.”

read part one two three four five six seven eight nine ten

A/N: After a year of planning, drafting, redrafting, and screaming, I am SO EXCITED to be publishing the last installment of Heartsease.  This fic has given me so much insight into how I want to approach writing in the future.  Thank you to everyone who has been reading since the beginning.  It means the world.

POV: James | Words: 4790 | Beta: @inflictionofopinions <3 | read on AO3

It wasn’t a position James was unused to being in: waiting in the corridor outside of McGonagall’s office, leaning leisurely yet uncomfortably against the stone walls, his Converse-clad feet jutting out further into the hall than the rest of his body.  He counted the beams on the small window staring him in the face; there were sixteen, just like the last time he was here a few days ago for some stupid prank he had set with Sirius, too minuscule to remember the specifics of in the long list of pranks they’ve played.  Usually, James would be here alongside Sirius, waiting in the corridor while Remus sat in McGonagall’s office, pleading their innocence far more eloquently and earnestly than either James or Sirius could manage. 

But he didn’t want to think about Sirius.  Sirius, his brother—regardless of the legality of it—and his only brother.  Sirius, who would sleep at the foot of his bed when he had nightmares, who trusted James enough to know he’d let him move into the Potter’s at eleven years old, who always let James feel badly about the most trivial of matters despite surviving the most excruciating circumstances, who would make James’ smile like no one else could.  Sirius, who, when it came down to it, didn’t tell James about being in love with Remus. 

All James could wonder was, “What did I do wrong?”  

Of course, Sirius didn’t owe James anything.  At first, James was so disgusted with feeling abandoned by Sirius’ secrecy that he tried to brush it off as Sirius thinking his and Remus’ relationship had been real.  Such would have explained why Sirius hadn’t come forward about his feelings for Remus.  James settled into the explanation easily.  However, the longer he let that excuse sit with him, the more time James was allowed to find the obvious loophole: to make such accusation accurate, Sirius wouldn’t have started liking Remus at the same time James had begun dating him.  While Sirius had a flair for the dramatic, it was far too Muggle reality television show catty for him to have done that.

So James was hurled back to square one: abandonment, guilt, unsureness.  Maybe most friendships didn’t rely on such mutual lack of secrecy, but James’ and Sirius’ were of a different breed.  Because James’ mind was still cluttered with memories of Sirius telling James every other secret he ever had; most notably, when Sirius came out for the first time ever, to James, on the train to Hogwarts. 

By some amount of chance, James found an arm slung around his shoulder casually.  It belonged to a boy that kept smiling and bouncing on his feet instead of walking.  “Sirius Black,” he had introduced himself as, giving James a much-too-official handshake considering they were both eleven.  Before James had even gotten all of his name out, Sirius was inviting him to sit in the train on the way to Hogwarts with him.  Once they were headed onto the train, Sirius was babbling to James as if he wasn’t just attempting to say goodbye to his parents.  It was about everything: the classes he was trying to take, the book he had just finished, the way he was considering styling his hair.  James guessed Sirius was just nervous; he was too, after all.  Yet for James, his nervousness resulted in stumbling over words and feet, while Sirius’ made him unable to stop talking.  Realizing the perfect balance of the scenario, James let himself stay quiet and Sirius talk. 

The only time he shut up was when a bloke with long, blonde hair—later identified as Lucius Malfoy—came stampeding through the train, near-shouting his conversation with his friends.  James’ attention was snapped to the boy.  James was certain everyone on the train couldn’t look away, no matter how much they wanted to. 

So he wasn’t quite sure what the context of the conversation was, but James very clearly heard Malfoy say, while passing the compartment he and Sirius sat in, “And when he fell from my push, he didn’t even try to get up!  He just stayed down there on his arse and cried, the fag.” 

James immediately stood up from his nearest-to-corridor-seat and into the hall.  “Hey!” he shouted, causing Malfoy and two other boys to turn around to face him.  “Don’t use that word like that.  It’s offensive and rude.” 

“What’s it to you?” Malfoy asked.  He was smiling smugly, as if he had proven someone wrong.  Or just proving someone.  “You queer, git?” 

“What’s it matter?  It’s still not right.”  

James was hyperventilating from his anger.  Malfoy just smiled more.  “You know, having a wand of righteousness up your ass won’t mean you’ll be put into Gryffindor, try-hard.  Just admit you’re disgusted.  And then find me.  Or come with me now.  I can help you sort out who is worth your time here.” 

“I think I can figure that out for myself.  Thank you for the concern.” 

Without a beat to pause, James slid back into the compartment from which he came.  Sitting in front of him was a wide-eyed, jaw-dropped Sirius.  

“What?” James smiled, proud that he found what could make Sirius stop talking. 

“Do you… do you even know what you just did?  Who you stood up to?” 

James shrugged.  “No.  Why?  Does it matter?” 

“To people who know him, yeah.”  Sirius was smiling.  “That was Lucius Malfoy, by the way.  He’s one of those famous pure-blood wizards.” 

James considered asking Sirius if he was one, too, but refrained from it.  He remembered his father mentioning something of a famous Black family, but never thought their descriptions of regality and poise would result in someone as rambunctious and welcoming as Sirius.  Lucius, on the other hand, fit the type perfectly.

“Ah,” James said, not really caring.  He let his gaze drift out of the window from fatigue.  Quickly, he realized Remus was still out there, so narrowed his eyes to try and find him through his limited vantage point. 

From an odd angle, James heard Sirius’ voice.  “Well, are you?” 

“Hm?” 

“Are you?” 

“What?”

“Gay.”

His gaze turned back to Sirius, who looked strangely strung-up for someone who was asking the surprising question, not receiving it.  James guessed it must have come as a surprise when he was quite relaxed after Sirius’ question.  

James pursed his lips before answering.  “I don’t think so.  I mean, I’ve never felt any special way towards blokes, but… I don’t know.  We’re just starting school.  Things might change.” 

Sirius nodded thoughtfully before staring out of the window.  The amount of disinterest he was portraying towards James’ answer, especially in comparison with the energy with which he had just asked the question, confused and unsettled James.  He sought further clarification for the shift, but some feeling he didn’t know the source of restricted pursuing it.  The very contrast he was confused by was the same one he knew he had to undertake.

The silence felt like forever; James knew it wasn’t, though.  To avert from awkwardness James had moved his shift from Sirius to the bustle of students in the corridor, all running to find friends or empty compartments to claim them with.  So, if it weren’t for the fact he was waiting for it, James doubted he would have heard Sirius’ voice.

“I am, you know.  Gay, I mean.”  James turned to face him; Sirius was drawing shapes on the window with his finger, watching the imaginary lines as if in a daze. 

James wasn’t quite sure how to respond.  He was used to yelling at people who used derogatory statements, for standing up in what he believed in.  But this didn’t feel like a moment for volume.  It didn’t seem like a moment for silence, either; silence that could be interpreted as similar to the one following receiving a blow, right before the pain sets in. 

He settled with, “Oh.  Okay.”  Even though he felt like it wasn’t enough, he had to assure to Sirius he was listening, and that he didn’t mind.  A casual response felt the closest to the normalcy James felt should be associated with being gay. 

Sirius looked up with wide eyes.  “Okay?”  

“Yeah.”  James chewed around the edges of the word as he said it, filling up the empty space he knew it left obvious.

He was also looking at Sirius’ every move, trying to see if what he said was right, praying to Merlin it was.  Regardless of not knowing Sirius for long, anyone coming out warranted the response they desired: love, acceptance, understanding.  The way James saw it, he was just trying to do what was right. 

Maybe Sirius could feel the desperation for righteousness pouring out of James’ very essence, as, right after James responded, Sirius’ body relaxed, tensed shoulders dropping, pursed lips unfurling.  Yet his expression remained complicated.  Thoughtful.

“No one straight has ever responded like that.” 

“I’m sorry,’ James automatically responded. 

“It’s… well, it’s not fine.  It’s not.”  Sirius closed his eyes, tilting his head back, laughing darkly at the ceiling.  “But I still suppose it was stupid of me to assume my very traditional parents would respond well.  That my little brother who follows their every order would stand up for me.  And considering you’re the only other straight person I’ve come out to, I assumed you’d do the same.”

“I’d never,” James breathed.  “I promise.”

His response felt extremely inadequate. Sirius had just come out to the first straight person not related to him after being tormented for it by those who were bonded by blood, yet all James had to offer was an oath spoken uncertainly due to the circumstances preceding it.  And not only did the response does not match the scale of Sirius’ admission; James’ feelings were equally as undermined.  He must have been doing something right to earn such trust from Sirius so quickly.  He felt honored to be such a quick confidant to something so personal: another factor James feared had slipped into his words.  For, this was about Sirius, not him.  No matter how special he felt, there should be no awards for being decent.

A booming, yet dark laugh from Sirius drew James out of his thoughts.  “Sorry if I overwhelmed you,” Sirius chuckled.

“There’s nothing you need to apologize for.”

So deep in thought, James didn’t even notice the door open.  If it weren’t for Lily softly clearing her throat, notifying him of her presence, James wouldn’t have noticed her, standing right across the corridor from him, either.

James looked up.  Her face was a smile that melted into a frown when seeing his expression.  “Are you that nervous about talking to McGonagall?” she asked. 

James’ voice came out quietly.  “No.  ‘More nervous to be talking to Sirius, to be honest.” 

“Did something happen between the two of you?”

“Nothing.  But that’s the problem.  He didn’t…” James figited, nervous the complaint would sound immature, “he never told me about Remus.”  

Lily’s brows furrowed.  “Are you mad?” 

“No!” he shouted.  “No, not at all.  I’m just, disappointed, that’s all.”

“In him?” 

“In me.”  

“Mr. Potter.” 

The voice was new to the conversation, but not new to James by any means.  When he snapped his head to where the door stood, it was cracked, revealing McGonagall just as James had expected.  Yet he was shaky in his Converse, as if he hadn’t been disciplined by McGonagall before.

He turned back to Lily in a rush.  Suddenly, there was so much to talk about: his self-deprivation, Sirius’ lack of trust, and his kiss with Lily that had been replaying a corner of his mind like background music in a movie ever since it happened three days earlier.  All he could get lit was a struggled, “Lily, I—”

Lily interrupted him by locking their hands together and giving his palm a gentle, reassuring squeeze.  It held everything it needed to at once: a reminder she’d be there if James needed to talk about Sirius with her, affirmation that he could get through McGonagall’s interrogation, proof that she still wanted the physical proximity the kiss had given them.

With easing nerves James made his way into McGonagall’s office.  Once inside, she closed the door firmly behind her.  She offered him tea, his usual—black tea with three sugars and a galleon-sized drop of milk—and quirked a brow when he refused, but said nothing of it.  James kept silent as she outlined his punishment: having all the responsibilities of Head Boy, but none of the perks.  McGonagall didn’t miss pointing out the fact that expulsion from Hogwarts was a very serious option she and Dumbledore discussed; one only bypassed due Trinity being expelled for her homophobia, making McGonagall and Dumbledore aware they couldn’t hold someone trying to curtail the effects of her homophobia to equal offense. 

Though James was grateful he got to finish school, he couldn’t even fully appreciate McGonagall and Dumbeldore’s decision.  He couldn’t relax his shoulders or release his teeth from where they dug down into his bottom lip.  On the other hand, McGonagall was smiling, probably expecting that James would follow suit from relief.  Her grin quickly faded when she noticed his worried expression remained stoic.

“You look quite distraught, Mr. Potter,” McGonagall pointed out.  Her features turned downcast, as if to match his, to act as a mirror in order to solidify her statement’s accuracy.  “Is something that I told you upsetting?” 

“Oh no, no,” James quickly responded.  “I’m truly grateful I get to stay here.”  He thought of Remus and Lily, of Marlene and Pandora.  His heart ached at a moment’s consideration of not being able to return to them next fall.  “It’s just, not to be rude… but this meeting really not my, uh, current priority.” 

James looked up, expecting McGonagall’s face to bear a widened jaw and set of eyes.  Instead, she nodded curtly.  “The last few days have been cruel.  I appreciate you taking the time for something so administrative when there are other, bigger issues going on behind the paperwork.  So, unless you have further questions, you are free to go.” 

They were the words James were waiting for.  Like he had been brought back to life he sprung out of his chair, finding himself at the door to the corridor incredibly fast.  But before he could twist the knob, open the door– 

“James.” 

James twisted his chin over to his shoulder.  McGonagall’s hand was out, as if ready to reach for him if he hadn’t stopped.  “Please,” she said, “please know if you need someone to talk to, I’m always here.” 

“Thank you,” he said, pouring as much earnestness he had into each letter.

With a small smile on her lips, she nodded curtly once more: James’ sign that he could leave.  A warm breeze blew through his hair upon entering the corridor.  Despite himself, he looked around, stomach dropping at the lack of bodies.  Some distant part of him wished that Lily had stayed; the better of him knew seeing her here would just have served as another distraction.  Though he wanted the warm words he knew she’d offer him in bulk, his sadness wasn’t a means to gain pity or prove he was righteous.  No: his sadness was proof he had a broken mend to fix with someone he loved, more than Lily, more than Remus, more than anyone. 

On the way over, James had internally come to terms with the fact he’d have to pry Sirius out of Remus’ grip.  They had been inseparable since the fight in the courtyard—understandably so—meaning James would have to trust Remus to understand the privacy wasn’t driven by jealousy.  He had spent the walk imagining all the different twists and turns the conversation could take, how to direct them the best.  So, when James pushed the door of his dorm room open, he almost fell over at the fact that Sirius was very much alone. 

“Hey.”  James did his best to muster up a smile, which was loftily returned.  “Are you, uh, doing anything right now?” 

Sirius lifted up a potions textbook, yet responded, “Nope.  What’s up?” 

James was rubbing the back of his neck with his hand, looking anywhere in the room that wasn’t Remus.  “I wanted to apologize.” 

“Apologize for what.” 

“Uh….” Merlin, James, he scolded himself, this is the wrong version of the conversation.  The one you ruled out.  He hadn’t found a way to end it; James didn’t know why Sirius’ faith was lost.  He could not name the action. 

But in a brilliant moment of self-savior, he realized he could name the effect.  “For making you not trust me anymore.  And for not even remembering why.” 

Sirius’ face twisted.  “Why do you think I don’t trust you?  I trust you with my life.”

“Because you didn’t tell me about Remus.”  When Sirius’ features straightened, his mouth opening in reply, James added hurriedly, “Not because you owe it to me.  You owe me nothing.  Ever.  It’s because you’ve told me every other secret, no matter how small or big, so I just… it must be me.”

“Prongs,” Sirius demanded softly, stopping James from whirlpooling into self-blame, as they both knew would happen.  “It was never you.  I promise.”

Finally, James felt the pressure between his shoulder blades ease as his arms fell lower down his sides.  His heartbeat slowed to match the feeling of the Sunday sunshine pouring through the windowsill.  Breath seemed easier, fresher, fuller.

James shook his head.  “I just thought, for so long…”

“James, even if you did hurt my feelings, I’d never not tell you, because I don’t want to fight with you, because I don’t want to lose you.”

“I don’t want to lose you, either.”

“Good, then,” Sirius smiled.  “We’ve agreed we’re still brothers ‘till the end.”

“Yup.”  James’ beamed and all of the light returned to his refreshed body.  With a rediscovered bounce in his step, he made his way to his wardrobe to change into a fresh set of clothes.  But before he could even get halfway from the door to his dresser, Sirius’ voice stopped him in his tracks.

“Is that all, then?” Sirius asked.

James turned towards him; the look James was met with was complicated.  “Yeah,” he replied, simply.

“You don’t want to know why I didn’t tell you?” 

James shrugged.  “Seems like none of my business.  Unless you want to talk about it.”

“It’s still kind of fresh, to be honest.”  A wincing of pain pressed into Sirius’ face.  “I’d rather not.”

“Let me know if you ever need me.  I’m always here.”

A safe sort of silence filled the gaps of the room as James got changed and Sirius continued reading the same page of his book over and over again.  It was as comfortable as their brotherhood, as needed as the pronouncements of love proceeding it.  Birds chirped, mattress springs croaked, wardrobe latches clicked.  Yet it ended with something more quiet: Remus gently closing the door behind him.

James subconsciously turned around himself in just the right way to see Sirius beam at Remus’ entrance.  “Rem,” he said tenderly, “You ready to go?”

Remus was wearing an equally bright grin.  “Just need to change shoes,” he joked.  “But actually, I ran into Lily in the common room looking for you, James, and it gave me an idea.  Did you know we were planning on going to Hogsmeade?”  James nodded—an understatement, considering that’s all Sirius and Remus had been talking about lately.  “Well, I thought maybe you could come along with Lily.  Sort of like a double date?”  The smirk on his face cut right through James.

“Uh, um… I don’t see why not, exactly, for me…”  James could feel his cheeks rising in temperature.  “But you two seemed so excited.  I don’t want to steal your space.  Make it about me.” 

Sirius piped in, “Well, I’m all for it.” 

“And I invited you,” Remus added.  “All you’d have to do is agree.  And ask Lily, of course.” 

James was too amused with the situation to be angry at Remus for setting it up; he still shook his head at Remus though, but with a smile tugging at his lips.  “You arse.” 

“I am a considerate friend and a creator of opportunities.” 

“You’re also a pretentious git,” Sirius responded, exceptionally casually.  James snorted laughter.  Remus feigned annoyance. 

A sudden surge of bravery surged through James, and he headed for the door.  “Well I’ll go ask her,” he said, “so I don’t have to witness the first fight as a couple.”  As James passed between where Remus’ body leaned outwards and the right side of the door frame, he felt Remus punch him slightly in the ribs.  James’ laughter followed him down to the common room. 

As Remus promised, Lily was there, sitting next to Marlene on a sofa and occasionally leaning back to not get whacked by Marlene’s gesturing.  From the looks of it, James wouldn’t be interrupting anything important, which he tried to let fuel his sudden confidence instead of scaring him due to the opportunity being so close, he could taste it. 

Somehow, it was Lily who started the conversation.  “James,” she smiled.  “Finally.  Remus told me he’d send you down.”

“He sent me tumbling,” James joked, hoping it would make her laugh.  It did.

Over the wonderful sound, Marlene spoke.  “You know, I think I’m late for something.”  

“Really?” Lily mused.  Accusation was heavy in her voice.

“Yes.  Something.”  Her smile reminded James of Remus’, and James realized he could do this, he could do this.  If Remus and Sirius had been brave enough to love one another, he could most definitely ask Lily Evans out.  Even if the uneasiness in his stomach disagreed. 

James lingered on Marlene’s exit, saying unsurely, “I guess I’ll just take her seat, then.”  He felt ungraceful when sitting down, like it was too loud of an action.  How could it be too loud? James thought to himself.  There was so much chatter around them, people coming and going, books hitting tables.

“I’m going to take a wild guess,” Lily began, “and guess you were just talking to Sirius.”  James nodded, not wanting to extrapolate, and Lily continued, as if knowing that without needing it verbalized.  “Did it go well?” 

“I’d say so.” 

“Good.”  Lily exhaled; one James didn’t realize she was holding.  His heart fluttered at the thought of her concern over him.  “You seemed so not yourself.  I’m glad it’s all worked out.” 

“Me too.  Mostly because I needed to talk to you, too.”  James let his focus dip to his hands, which were clasped together, but not tightly enough to restrict his fingers from fiddling.  “It was wrong to kiss you like that, in front of so many people, without even asking.  I’m really sorry.  I got carried away, but that’s no excuse.” 

Lily’s expression was darkened when James peered back up.  Then, a small smile twisted her lips.  “How did you know that’s what I wanted to talk about?” 

“Lucky guess?”  Lily chuckled.  James didn’t.  “But really, I’m sorry.  And I want you to know it won’t happen again.” 

“Not asking first?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Good,” Lily nodded.  There was no forgiveness in her tone of voice.  “But not the kissing, right?” 

James perked up.  “What?” 

“The kissing.  I rather liked it.  Didn’t you?” 

“Yeah,” James scoffed.  It was the understatement of the century, and they both knew it, if the laugh Lily gave meant anything.  

“Good,” she repeated, “Because I was kind of hoping, if you’re free, to go to Hogsmeade with you.” 

James’ jaw dropped: he couldn’t believe that Lily had cut him to the chase.  He felt anger rise up his throat, ready to yell at her for besting him.  But it died before it hit air.  James may have been a prideful Gryffindor, but he was willing for that pride to be destroyed if it meant letting Lily ask him out.  It was a small price to pay, yet a large reward.

So, he responded simply, “How would you feel if Remus and Sirius join us?  I hear they’re already going.” 

Lily agreed.  Leaving her—for hopefully the last time for a long time that day—James bolted to go fetch Sirius and Remus, who were sitting ready on their beds, as if they had known this would all work out all along.  James didn’t put it past Remus to have somehow manipulated the results, but was too elated with the premise of going out with Lily to pry.  

Minutes later, all four of them were bounding out of the Gryffindor common room, a ball of laughter, smiles, and witty jabs.  Through the staircases and pathways, Sirius and Remus weaved in front of James and Lily, allowing James to see their hands intertwined between their bodies.  He couldn’t help the smile that crept up on his face.  Somehow seeing it felt the same as the silence that he and Sirius had shared just hours before: comfortable, warm.  Right. 

Even after grabbing Butterbeer, Remus and Lily both decided they needed more sugar atop the nearly-stomach-ache-inducing goodness, so ran into Honeydukes while Sirius and James stood outside the window, each holding two drinks.  When Lily and Remus appeared from the window, James heard Sirius inhale sharply, as if a knife was just drawn between his ribcage.  James snapped his head towards Sirius. 

“Are you alright?” he asked, brow furrowed, eyes focused on Sirius and Sirius only.  The way Sirius’ fingers fumbled around the glasses didn’t help James’ pounding heartbeat steady.  

Sirius met James’ eyes, his expression wild, his voice breathless.  “It’s him,” Sirius said.  “The boy.  The boy I saw in Honeydukes when I was eleven and fell in love with.  It was Remus all along.” 

Flicking his head between where Remus stood, picking out taffies from large glass containers, and where Sirius shook, overtaken by his own affection, James could see it, too.  He could feel it.  And suddenly, James realized how damn foolish it had been for him to assume Sirius not telling him about his feelings for Remus could have been based on mistrust.  Because Sirius had trusted James everyday enough to love Remus in front of him, without watering down the certainty or strength of the adoration.  James had never known a version of Sirius that didn’t love Remus.  Sirius coming out to James was saying he loved Remus.  He just didn’t have all the pieces of the puzzle to be wise enough to not cast the blame upon himself.

James smiled warmly, knowingly.  Tears were threatening to spill from his eyes.  “He loves you so much,” he responded, not knowing how to respond directly, but feeling as if that was enough.

“I know,” Sirius breathed.  He turned back towards the window.  “It’s just hard to believe sometimes.” 

James knew exactly what he meant, for when he looked out at Honeydukes, there was Lily.  Lily, who somehow asked him here, who somehow could look past his foolish mistake, who wanted more kisses despite the first one being a catastrophe painted romantic.  Watching her smile, James wondered if the swelling he felt in his chest was how Sirius felt seeing Remus for the first time.  For a moment, he felt like asking.  But then he realized he didn’t need to.

Everything was background noises for a moment.  James and Sirius watched together as Lily left Remus; probably to pay, James assumed.  Remus continued to waddle between jars of candy and chocolates.  He grabbed one too many of a handful of chocolate frogs, leaving one purple case tumbling to the floor.  Somehow, after reaching down and grabbing it, Remus stood up in the exact right way to land his eyes directly on Sirius’.

James watched as Remus’ face take many shapes, contorting from the scrunch of shock to crunched-brow confusion to teeth digging into lips from deep thought, all of which melded into one another and finally into a small, warm, knowing smile.  Remus’ eyes beamed as if no glass stood between them.  It felt like the expression someone makes when they know they are home.  As if Remus had known, all this time, that Sirius had always been waiting for him to turn around from the other side of the glass, to look his way, to give him what Sirius had supplied so many years ago, so accidentally, so genuinely.  That maybe all this time they’d known one another was really the journey of finding one another, after all the separations and heartache, returning to this spot and knowing it was their eternal starting point.  This faded and dusty glass that was almost a mirror, that showed them everything in their world began and ended with one another.

“It’s hard to believe sometimes”

It wasn’t a position James was unused to being in: waiting in the corridor outside of McGonagall’s office, leaning leisurely yet uncomfortably against the stone walls, his Converse-clad feet jutting out further into the hall than the rest of his body.  He counted the beams on the small window staring him in the face; there were sixteen, just like the last time he was here a few days ago for some stupid prank he had set with Sirius, too miniscule to remember the specifics of in the long list of pranks they’ve played.  Usually, James would be here alongside Sirius, waiting in the corridor while Remus sat in McGonagall’s office, pleading their innocence far more eloquently and earnestly than either James or Sirius could manage. 

But he didn’t want to think about Sirius.  Sirius, his brother—regardless of the legality of it—and his only brother.  Sirius, who would sleep at the foot of his bed when he had nightmares, who trusted James enough to know he’d let him move into the Potter’s at eleven years old, who always let James feel badly about the most trivial of matters despite surviving the most excruciating circumstances, who would make James’ smile like no one else could.  Sirius, who, when it came down to it, didn’t tell James about being in love with Remus. 

All James could wonder was, “What did I do wrong?”  

Of course, Sirius didn’t owe James anything.  At first, James was so disgusted with feeling abandoned by Sirius’ secrecy that he tried to brush it off as Sirius thinking his and Remus’ relationship had been real.  Such would have explained why Sirius hadn’t come forward about his feelings for Remus.  James settled into the explanation easily.  However, the longer he let that excuse sit with him, the more time James was allowed to find the obvious loophole: to make such accusation accurate, Sirius wouldn’t have started liking Remus at the same time James had begun dating him.  While Sirius had a flair for the dramatic, it was far too Muggle reality television show catty for him to have done that.

So James was hurled back to square one: abandonment, guilt, unsureness.  Maybe most friendships didn’t rely on such mutual lack of secrecy, but James’ and Sirius’ were of a different breed.  Because James’ mind was still cluttered with memories of Sirius telling James every other secret he ever had; most notably, when Sirius came out for the first time ever, to James, on the train to Hogwarts. 

By some amount of chance, James found an arm slung around his shoulder casually.  It belonged to a boy that kept smiling and bouncing on his feet instead of walking.  “Sirius Black,” he had introduced himself as, giving James a much-too-official handshake considering they were both eleven.  Before James had even gotten all of his name out, Sirius was inviting him to sit in the train on the way to Hogwarts with him.  Once they were headed onto the train, Sirius was babbling to James as if he wasn’t just attempting to say goodbye to his parents.  It was about everything: the classes he was trying to take, the book he had just finished, the way he was considering styling his hair.  James guessed Sirius was just nervous; he was too, after all.  Yet for James, his nervousness resulted in stumbling over words and feet, while Sirius’ made him unable to stop talking.  Realizing the perfect balance of the scenario, James let himself stay quiet and Sirius talk. 

The only time he shut up was when a bloke with long, blonde hair—later identified as Lucius Malfoy—came stampeding through the train, near-shouting his conversation with his friends.  James’ attention was snapped to the boy.  James was certain everyone on the train couldn’t look away, no matter how much they wanted to. 

So he wasn’t quite sure what the context of the conversation was, but James very clearly heard Malfoy say, while passing the compartment he and Sirius sat in, “And when he fell from my push, he didn’t even try to get up!  He just stayed down there on his arse and cried, the fag.” 

James immediately stood up from his nearest-to-corridor-seat and into the hall.  “Hey!” he shouted, causing Malfoy and two other boys to turn around to face him.  “Don’t use that word like that.  It’s offensive and rude.” 

“What’s it to you?” Malfoy asked.  He was smiling smugly, as if he had proven someone wrong.  Or just proving someone.  “You queer, git?” 

“What’s it matter?  It’s still not right.”  

James was hyperventilating from his anger.  Malfoy just smiled more.  “You know, having a wand of righteousness up your ass won’t mean you’ll be put into Gryffindor, try-hard.  Just admit you’re disgusted.  And then find me.  Or come with me now.  I can help you sort out who is worth your time here.” 

“I think I can figure that out for myself.  Thank you for the concern.” 

Without a beat to pause, James slid back into the compartment from which he came.  Sitting in front of him was a wide-eyed, jaw-dropped Sirius.  

“What?” James smiled, proud that he found what could make Sirius stop talking. 

“Do you… do you even know what you just did?  Who you stood up to?” 

James shrugged.  “No.  Why?  Does it matter?” 

“To people who know him, yeah.”  Sirius was smiling.  “That was Lucius Malfoy, by the way.  He’s one of those famous pure-blood wizards.” 

James considered asking Sirius if he was one, too, but refrained from it.  He remembered his father mentioning something of a famous Black family, but never thought their descriptions of regality and poise would result in someone as rambunctious and welcoming as Sirius.  Lucius, on the other hand, fit the type perfectly.

“Ah,” James said, not really caring.  He let his gaze drift out of the window from fatigue.  Quickly, he realized Remus was still out there, so narrowed his eyes to try and find him through his limited vantage point. 

From an odd angle, James heard Sirius’ voice.  “Well, are you?” 

“Hm?” 

“Are you?” 

“What?”

“Gay.”

His gaze turned back to Sirius, who looked strangely strung-up for someone who was asking the surprising question, not receiving it.  James guessed it must have come as a surprise when he was quite relaxed after Sirius’ question.  

James pursed his lips before answering.  “I don’t think so.  I mean, I’ve never felt any special way towards blokes, but… I don’t know.  We’re just starting school.  Things might change.” 

Sirius nodded thoughtfully before staring out of the window.  The amount of disinterest he was portraying towards James’ answer, especially in comparison with the energy with which he had just asked the question, confused and unsettled James.  He sought further clarification for the shift, but some feeling he didn’t know the source of restricted pursuing it.  The very contrast he was confused by was the same one he knew he had to undertake.

The silence felt like forever; James knew it wasn’t, though.  To avert from awkwardness James had moved his shift from Sirius to the bustle of students in the corridor, all running to find friends or empty compartments to claim them with.  So, if it weren’t for the fact he was waiting for it, James doubted he would have heard Sirius’ voice.

“I am, you know.  Gay, I mean.”  James turned to face him; Sirius was drawing shapes on the window with his finger, watching the imaginary lines as if in a daze. 

James wasn’t quite sure how to respond.  He was used to yelling at people who used derogatory statements, for standing up in what he believed in.  But this didn’t feel like a moment for volume.  It didn’t seem like a moment for silence, either; silence that could be interpreted as similar to the one following receiving a blow, right before the pain sets in. 

He settled with, “Oh.  Okay.”  Even though he felt like it wasn’t enough, he had to assure to Sirius he was listening, and that he didn’t mind.  A casual response felt the closest to the normalcy James felt should be associated with being gay. 

Sirius looked up with wide eyes.  “Okay?”  

“Yeah.”  James chewed around the edges of the word as he said it, filling up the empty space he knew it left obvious.

He was also looking at Sirius’ every move, trying to see if what he said was right, praying to Merlin it was.  Regardless of not knowing Sirius for long, anyone coming out warranted the response they desired: love, acceptance, understanding.  The way James saw it, he was just trying to do what was right. 

Maybe Sirius could feel the desperation for righteousness pouring out of James’ very essence, as, right after James responded, Sirius’ body relaxed, tensed shoulders dropping, pursed lips unfurling.  Yet his expression remained complicated.  Thoughtful.

“No one straight has ever responded like that.” 

“I’m sorry,’ James automatically responded. 

“It’s… well, it’s not fine.  It’s not.”  Sirius closed his eyes, tilting his head back, laughing darkly at the ceiling.  “But I still suppose it was stupid of me to assume my very traditional parents would respond well.  That my little brother who follows their ever order would stand up for me.  And considering you’re the only other straight person I’ve come out to, I assumed you’d do the same.”

“I’d never,” James breathed.  “I promise.”

His response felt extremely inadequate. Sirius had just came out to the first straight person not related to him after being tormented for it by those who were bonded by blood, yet all James had to offer was an oath spoken uncertainly due to the circumstances preceding it.  And not only did the response not match the scale of Sirius’ admission; James’ feelings were equally as undermined.  He must have been doing something right to earn such trust from Sirius so quickly.  He felt honored to be such a quick confidant to something so personal: another factor James feared had slipped into his words.  For, this was about Sirius, not him.  No matter how special he felt, there should be no awards for being decent.

A booming, yet dark laugh from Sirius drew James out of his thoughts.  “Sorry if I overwhelmed you,” Sirius chuckled.

“There’s nothing you need to apologize for.”

So deep in thought, James didn’t even notice the door open.  If it weren’t for Lily softly clearing her throat, notifying him of her presence, James wouldn’t have noticed her, standing right across the corridor from him, either.

James looked up.  Her face was a smile that melted into a frown when seeing his expression.  “Are you that nervous about talking to McGonagall?” she asked. 

James’ voice came out quietly.  “No.  ‘More nervous to be talking to Sirius, to be honest.” 

“Did something happen between the two of you?”

“Nothing.  But that’s the problem.  He didn’t…” James figited, nervous the complaint would sound immature, “he never told me about Remus.”  

Lily’s brows furrowed.  “Are you mad?” 

“No!” he shouted.  “No, not at all.  I’m just, disappointed, that’s all.”

“In him?” 

“In me.”  

“Mr. Potter.” 

The voice was new to the conversation, but not new to James by any means.  When he snapped his head to where the door stood, it was cracked, revealing McGonagall just as James had expected.  Yet he was shaky in his Converse, as if he hadn’t been disciplined by McGonagall before.

He turned back to Lily in a rush.  Suddenly, there was so much to talk about: his self-deprivation, Sirius’ lack of trust, and his kiss with Lily that had been replaying a corner of his mind like background music in a movie ever since it happened three days earlier.  All he could get lit was a struggled, “Lily, I—”

Lily interrupted him by locking their hands together and giving his palm a gentle, reassuring squeeze.  It held everything it needed to at once: a reminder she’d be there if James needed to talk about Sirius with her, affirmation that he could get through McGonagall’s interrogation, proof that she still wanted the physical proximity the kiss had given them.

With easing nerves James made his way into McGonagall’s office.  Once inside, she closed the door firmly behind her.  She offered him tea, his usual—black tea with three sugars and a galleon-sized drop of milk—and quirked a brow when he refused, but said nothing of it.  James kept silent as she outlined his punishment: having all the responsibilities of Head Boy, but none of the perks.  McGonagall didn’t miss pointing out the fact that expulsion from Hogwarts was a very serious option she and Dumbledore discussed; one only bypassed due Trinity being expelled for her homophobia, making McGonagall and Dumbledore aware they couldn’t hold someone trying to curtail the effects of her homophobia to equal offense. 

Though James was grateful he got to finish school, he couldn’t even fully appreciate McGonagall and Dumbeldore’s decision.  He couldn’t relax his shoulders or release his teeth from where they dug down into his bottom lip.  On the other hand, McGonagall was smiling, probably expecting that James would follow suit from relief.  Her grin quickly faded when she noticed his worried expression remained stoic.

“You look quite distraught, Mr. Potter,” McGonagall pointed out.  Her features turned downcast, as if to match his, to act as a mirror in order to solidify her statement’s accuracy.  “Is something that I told you upsetting?” 

“Oh no, no,” James quickly responded.  “I’m truly grateful I get to stay here.”  He thought of Remus and Lily, of Marlene and Pandora.  His heart ached at a moment’s consideration of not being able to return to them next fall.  “It’s just, not to be rude… but this meeting really not my, uh, current priority.” 

James looked up, expecting McGonagall’s face to bear a widened jaw and set of eyes.  Instead, she nodded curtly.  “The last few days have been cruel.  I appreciate you taking the time for something so administrative when there are other, bigger issues going on behind the paperwork.  So, unless you have further questions, you are free to go.” 

They were the words James were waiting for.  Like he had been brought back to life he sprung out of his chair, finding himself at the door to the corridor incredibly fast.  But before he could twist the knob, open the door– 

“James.” 

James twisted his chin over to his shoulder.  McGonagall’s hand was out, as if ready to reach for him if he hadn’t stopped.  “Please,” she said, “please know if you need someone to talk to, I’m always here.” 

“Thank you,” he said, pouring as much earnestness he had into each letter.

With a small smile on her lips, she nodded curtly once more: James’ sign that he could leave.  A warm breeze blew through his hair upon entering the corridor.  Despite himself, he looked around, stomach dropping at the lack of bodies.  Some distant part of him wished that Lily had stayed; the better of him knew seeing her here would just have served as another distraction.  Though he wanted the warm words he knew she’d offer him in bulk, his sadness wasn’t a means to gain pity or prove he was righteous.  No: his sadness was proof he had a broken mend to fix with someone he loved, more than Lily, more than Remus, more than anyone. 

On the way over, James had internally come to terms with the fact he’d have to pry Sirius out of Remus’ grip.  They had been inseparable since the fight in the courtyard—understandably so—meaning James would have to trust Remus to understand the privacy wasn’t driven by jealousy.  He had spent the walk imagining all the different twists and turns the conversation could take, how to direct them the best.  So, when James pushed the door of his dorm room open, he almost fell over at the fact Sirius was very much alone. 

“Hey.”  James did his best to muster up a smile, which was loftily returned.  “Are you, uh, doing anything right now?” 

Sirius lifted up a potions textbook, yet responded, “Nope.  What’s up?” 

James was rubbing the back of his neck with his hand, looking anywhere in the room that wasn’t Remus.  “I wanted to apologize.” 

“Apologize for what.” 

“Uh….” Merlin, James, he scolded himself, this is the wrong version of the conversation.  The one you ruled out.  He hadn’t found a way to end it; James didn’t know why Sirius’ faith was lost.  He could not name the action. 

But in a brilliant moment of savior, he realized he could name the effect.  “For making you not trust me anymore.  And for not even remembering why.” 

Sirius’ face twisted.  “Why do you think I don’t trust you?  I trust you with my life.”

“Because you didn’t tell me about Remus.”  When Sirius’ features straightened, his mouth opening in reply, James added hurriedly, “Not because you owe it to me.  You owe me nothing.  Ever.  It’s because you’ve told me every other secret, no matter how small or big, so I just… it must be me.”

“Prongs,” Sirius demanded softly, stopping James from whirlpooling into self-blame, as they both knew would happen.  “It was never you.  I promise.”

Finally, James felt the pressure between his shoulder blades ease as his arms fell lower down his sides.  His heartbeat slowed to match the feeling of the Sunday sunshine pouring through the windowsill.  Breath seemed easier, fresher, fuller.

James shook his head.  “I just thought, for so long…”

“James, even if you did hurt my feelings, I’d never not tell you, because I don’t want to fight with you, because I don’t want to lose you.”

“I don’t want to lose you, either.”

“Good, then,” Sirius smiled.  “We’ve agreed we’re still brothers ‘till the end.”

“Yup.”  James’ beamed and all of the light returned to his refreshed body.  With a rediscovered bounce in his step, he made his way to his wardrobe to change into a fresh set of clothes.  But before he could even get halfway from the door to his dresser, Sirius’ voice stopped him in his tracks.

“Is that all, then?” Sirius asked.

James turned towards him; the look James was met with was complicated.  “Yeah,” he replied, simply.

“You don’t want to know why I didn’t tell you?” 

James shrugged.  “Seems like none of my business.  Unless you want to talk about it.”

“It’s still kind of fresh, to be honest.”  A wincing of pain pressed into Sirius’ face.  “I’d rather not.”

“Let me know if you ever need me.  I’m always here.”

A safe sort of silence filled the gaps of the room as James got changed and Sirius continued reading the same page of his book over and over again.  It was as comfortable as their brotherhood, as needed as the pronouncements of love proceeding it.  Birds chirped, mattress springs croaked, wardrobe latches clicked.  Yet it ended with something more quiet: Remus gently closing the door behind him.

James subconsciously turned around himself in just the right way to see Sirius beam at Remus’ entrance.  “Rem,” he said tenderly, “You ready to go?”

Remus was wearing an equally bright grin.  “Just need to change shoes,” he joked.  “But actually, I ran into Lily in the common room looking for you, James, and it gave me an idea.  Did you know we were planning on going to Hogsmeade?”  James nodded—an understatement, considering that’s all Sirius and Remus had been talking about lately.  “Well, I thought maybe you could come along with Lily.  Sort of like a double date?”  The smirk on his face cut right through James.

“Uh, um… I don’t see why not, exactly, for me…”  James could feel his cheeks rising in temperature.  “But you two seemed so excited.  I don’t want to steal your space.  Make it about me.” 

Sirius piped in, “Well, I’m all for it.” 

“And I invited you,” Remus added.  “All you’d have to do is agree.  And ask Lily, of course.” 

James was too amused with the situation to be angry at Remus for setting it up; he still shook his head at Remus though, but with a smile tugging at his lips.  “You arse.” 

“I am a considerate friend and a creator of opportunities.” 

“You’re also a pretentious git,” Sirius responded, exceptionally casually.  James snorted laughter.  Remus feigned annoyance. 

A sudden surge of bravery surged through James, and he headed for the door.  “Well I’ll go ask her,” he said, “so I don’t have to witness the first fight as a couple.”  As James passed between where Remus’ body leaned outwards and the right side of the doorframe, he felt Remus punch him slightly in the ribs.  James’ laughter followed him down to the common room. 

As Remus promised, Lily was there, sitting next to Marlene on a sofa and occasionally leaning back to not get whacked by Marlene’s gesturing.  From the looks of it, James wouldn’t be interrupting anything important, which he tried to let fuel his sudden confidence instead of scaring him due to the opportunity being so close, he could taste it. 

Somehow, it was Lily who started the conversation.  “James,” she smiled.  “Finally.  Remus told me he’d send you down.”

“He sent me tumbling,” James joked, hoping it would make her laugh.  It did.

Over the wonderful sound, Marlene spoke.  “You know, I think I’m late for something.”  

“Really?” Lily mused.  Accusation was heavy in her voice.

“Yes.  Something.”  Her smile reminded James of Remus’, and James realized he could do this, he could do this.  If Remus and Sirius had been brave enough to love one another, he could most definitely ask Lily Evans out.  Even if the uneasiness in his stomach disagreed. 

James lingered on Marlene’s exit, saying unsurely, “I guess I’ll just take her seat, then.”  He felt ungraceful when sitting down, like it was too loud of an action.  How could it be too loud? James thought to himself.  There was so much chatter around them, people coming and going, books hitting tables.

“I’m going to take a wild guess,” Lily began, “and guess you were just talking to Sirius.”  James nodded, not wanting to extrapolate, and Lily continued, as if knowing that without needing it verbalized.  “Did it go well?” 

“I’d say so.” 

“Good.”  Lily exhaled; one James didn’t realize she was holding.  His heart fluttered at the thought of her concern over him.  “You seemed so not yourself.  I’m glad it’s all worked out.” 

“Me too.  Mostly because I needed to talk to you, too.”  James let his focus dip to his hands, which were clasped together, but not tightly enough to restrict his fingers from fiddling.  “It was wrong to kiss you like that, in front of so many people, without even asking.  I’m really sorry.  I got carried away, but that’s no excuse.” 

Lily’s expression was darkened when James peered back up.  Then, a small smile twisted her lips.  “How did you know that’s what I wanted to talk about?” 

“Lucky guess?”  Lily chuckled.  James didn’t.  “But really, I’m sorry.  And I want you to know it won’t happen again.” 

“Not asking first?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Good,” Lily nodded.  There was no forgiveness in her tone of voice.  “But not the kissing, right?” 

James perked up.  “What?” 

“The kissing.  I rather liked it.  Didn’t you?” 

“Yeah,” James scoffed.  It was the understatement of the century, and they both knew it, if the laugh Lily gave meant anything.  

“Good,” she repeated, “Because I was kind of hoping, if you’re free, to go to Hogsmeade with you.” 

James’ jaw dropped: he couldn’t believe that Lily had cut him to the chase.  He felt anger rise up his throat, ready to yell at her for besting him.  But it died before it hit air.  James may have been a prideful Gryffindor, but he was willing for that pride to be destroyed if it meant letting Lily ask him out.  It was a small price to pay, yet a large reward.

So, he responded simply, “How would you feel if Remus and Sirius join us?  I hear they’re already going.” 

Lily agreed.  Leaving her—for hopefully the last time for a long time that day—James bolted to go fetch Sirius and Remus, who were sitting ready on their beds, as if they had known this would all work out all along.  James didn’t put it past Remus to have somehow manipulated the results, but was too elated with the premise of going out with Lily to pry.  

Minutes later, all four of them were bounding out of the Gryffindor common room, a ball of laughter, smiles, and witty jabs.  Through the staircases and pathways, Sirius and Remus weaved in front of James and Lily, allowing James to see their hands intertwined between their bodies.  He couldn’t help the smile that crept up on his face.  Somehow seeing it felt the same as the silence that he and Sirius had shared just hours before: comfortable, warm.  Right. 

Even after grabbing Butterbeer, Remus and Lily both decided they needed more sugar atop the nearly-stomach-ache-inducing goodness, so ran into Honeydukes while Sirius and James stood outside the window, each holding two drinks.  When Lily and Remus appeared from the window, James heard Sirius inhale sharply, as if a knife was just drawn between his ribcage.  James snapped his head towards Sirius. 

“Are you alright?” he asked, brow furrowed, eyes focused on Sirius and Sirius only.  The way Sirius’ fingers fumbled around the glasses didn’t help James’ pounding heartbeat steady.  

Sirius met James’ eyes, his expression wild, his voice breathless.  “It’s him,” Sirius said.  “The boy.  The boy I saw in Honeydukes when I was eleven and fell in love with.  It was Remus all along.” 

Flicking his head between where Remus stood, picking out taffies from large glass containers, and where Sirius shook, overtaken by his own affection, James could see it, too.  He could feel it.  And suddenly, James realized how damn foolish it had been for him to assume Sirius not telling him about his feelings for Remus could have been based on mistrust.  Because Sirius had trusted James everyday enough to love Remus in front of him, without watering down the certainty or strength of the adoration.  James had never known a version of Sirius that didn’t love Remus.  Sirius coming out to James was saying he loved Remus.  He just didn’t have all the pieces of the puzzle to be wise enough to not cast the blame upon himself.

James smiled warmly, knowingly.  Tears were threatening to spill from his eyes.  “He loves you so much,” he responded, not knowing how to respond directly, but feeling as if that was enough.

“I know,” Sirius breathed.  He turned back towards the window.  “It’s just hard to believe sometimes.” 

James knew exactly what he meant, for when he looked out at Honeydukes, there was Lily.  Lily, who somehow asked him here, who somehow could look past his foolish mistake, who wanted more kisses despite the first one being a catastrophe painted romantic.  Watching her smile, James wondered if the swelling he felt in his chest was how Sirius felt seeing Remus for the first time.  For a moment, he felt like asking.  But then he realized he didn’t need to.

Everything was background noises for a moment.  James and Sirius watched together as Lily left Remus; probably to pay, James assumed.  Remus continued to waddle between jars of candy and chocolates.  He grabbed one too many of a handful of chocolate frogs, leaving one purple case tumbling to the floor.  Somehow, after reaching down and grabbing it, Remus stood up in the exact right way to land his eyes directly on Sirius’.

James watched as Remus’ face take many shapes, contorting from the scrunch of shock to crunched-brow confusion to teeth digging into lips from deep thought, all of which melded into one another and finally into a small, warm, knowing smile.  Remus’ eyes beamed as if no glass stood between them.  It felt like the expression someone makes when they know they are home.  As if Remus had known, all this time, that Sirius had always been waiting for him to turn around from the other side of the glass, to look his way, to give him what Sirius had supplied so many years ago, so accidentally, so genuinely.  That maybe all this time they’d known one another was really the journey of finding one another, after all the separations and heartache, returning to this spot and knowing it was their eternal starting point.  This faded and dusty glass that was almost a mirror, that showed them everything in their world began and ended with one another.

⬥  ⬥  ⬥  ⬥  ⬥  ⬥  ⬥  ⬥

Taglist (let me know if you want to be added): @siriuslyimmoony @astertist @who-cares-unknown @neewtmas @theseuscmander @boring-viola @diggorysghost @gryffndor @finnofamerica @the-apple-princess @theboywhocriedlupin @sly-vixen-up2nogood@bluemadcnna @lonelyheart-jadedsoul @jamcspotters @siriusement @just-some-nerd @wzardings  @niffleurs @themarauderstheoutsidersandpeggy @cinnamonrollswithmoony@sarah-bearah  

[monstaxvibes]

Monsta X as the “SEVEN DEADLY SINS” 💀

Based on their comeback teasers and photos, I’ve pinpointed what “Sin” each member of Monsta X represents along with the “Virtue” opposition. This is just my opinion and theory which probably won’t be accurate lol Enjoy!

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Changkyun as Envy:

“Envy is an emotion which ‘occurs when a person lacks another's superior quality, achievement, or possession and either desires it or wishes that the other lacked it’."

I.M easily compares himself to others. But we know Changkyun as someome who is very grateful for where he is today and grateful for the people who support him. The virtue that is opposite of the sin Envy is Gratitude. But he has the problem of being a bit envious of others. For example, take his lyrics from Jealousy. Yes the song is about being jealous but I can’t help but feel the little sting of his lyrics during his rap. (English Translations)

“I got it, the last out of the seven. Think these guys are better than me?”

“Wow, to each their own misunderstanding. What’s so fun about teasing me?”

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Jooheon as Pride:

Oh boy here we go.

“Pride is an inwardly directed emotion that carries two antithetical meanings. With a negative connotation pride refers to a foolishly and irrationally corrupt sense of one's personal value, status or accomplishments...”

Pretty much ya boy is full of himself. In the Monsta X concepts, Jooheon seems to always plays a “character” that is very prideful. His first ever famous rap that was from Trespass was

“I’m different from those pretty boys over there. Excuse me, excuse my charisma. I’m gonna be rude and enter your heart. My love knows no manners, excuse my charisma!”

But wait, MONBEBE’s know that Jooheon is not really like that at all. He is a sweetheart who always shows Humility (Virtue opposite of Pride). He is supportive and often comforts them member extremely well. We also know that sometimes, Honey is sometimes very self conscious (BUT BABY WHY? YOU ARE SO HANDSOME AND TALENTED AND WOWOW). And the only way to rid those insecurities is to replace them with his badass persona that we’ve all learned to adore.

For more supporting lyrics, please refer to Jooheon’s whole song “Should I Do.” Or the whole mixtape in general. He is spewing pride and I’m here for it 🙌🏼

(Can you tell that he’s my bias......)

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Hyungwon as Sloth:

“Sloth is one of the seven capital sins. It is the most difficult sin to define, and to credit as sin, since it refers to a peculiar jumble of notions, dating from antiquity and including mental, spiritual, pathological, and physical states. One definition is: a habitual disinclination to exertion... The word ‘sloth’ is a translation of the Latin term acedia and means ‘without care’.”

Hyungwon is definitely Sloth (also Pride but for this lets just say Sloth). He’s tired and lazy and sleepy. He is known as laid back and care free. He doesn’t talk much and is a considered a “meme”. But in reality, Hyungwon is one of the most Diligent (Virtue opposite of Sloth) members. He is talented and extremely hard working when it comes to his position as a dancer and singer. But he still loves to indulge in his sleep and that’s something he can’t rid himself of.

(It’s okay Wonnie, i am on the same boat. Sleepyheads unite!!!)

________________________________________________

Kihyun as Wrath:

“Wrath or Anger is an intense expression of emotion. It involves a strong uncomfortable and hostile response to a perceived provocation, hurt or threat. Anger can occur when a person feels their personal boundaries are being or are about to be violated. Some have a learned tendency to react to anger through retaliation as a way of coping.”

Kihyun is known as eomma. He’s motherly and is always kind. Always looking out for the members and has amazing Patience(Virtue opposite of Wrath). But sometimes, he just gets angry and annoyed and can’t handle someone making the same mistake constantly. He reminds me of the phrase “Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.” That patience of his runs thin when you keep hitting the same nerve. He practically pulls his hair out when it comes to the members and things being unclean (poor babe, thats a tough life). He most likely feels that he loses his cool a little too often and too easily which is something he might be working on.

________________________________________________

Minhyuk as Greed:

“Greed, or avarice, is an inordinate or insatiable longing for material gain, be it food, money, status, or power. As a secular psychological concept, greed is an inordinate desire to acquire or possess more than one needs. The degree of inordinance is related to the inability to control the reformulation of ‘wants’ once desired ‘needs’ are eliminated. Erich Fromm described greed as ‘a bottomless pit which exhausts the person in an endless effort to satisfy the need without ever reaching satisfaction.’ It is typically used to criticize those who seek excessive material wealth, although it may apply to the need to feel more excessively moral, social, or otherwise better than someone else.”

Minhyuk is known as the sunshine. Always giving, generous and caring. Charity/Generosity is the virtue that is opposite of the sin Greed and we all know this boy is the definition of a generous person. Always loving and giving so much to his members and his fans. But he has a side to him that is greedy and just wants all of the love and attention. He is the type to lowkey want you to compliment him back if he compliments you. All the love he exerts is what he wants shown back to him. Maybe he is also greedy when it comes to success of Monsta X. He wants them to be on the top and to be the best, his inner greed just wanting more and more.

________________________________________________

Wonho as Lust:

DON’T @ ME BUT YOU KNOW THIS IS CORRECT.

“Lust is a psychological force producing intense wanting for an object, or circumstance fulfilling the emotion. Lust can take any form such as the lust for sexuality, money or power.”

Okay okay hear me out. Monbebe’s know him for his Chastity (Virtue opposite of Lust). He is a fluff who is pure and sweet. He couldn’t hurt a fly without crying. He just loves monbebe so much UGH GET YOU A MAN WHO STANS YOU JUST AS MUCH AS YOU STAN HIM WOW. But his role in Monsta X is to be the sexy one and to reveal his body. He has to rip off his shirt and make those ladies s w o o n. But I feel like nowadays, he can’t help but enjoy it. Oh boy he LOVES it. I feel like that one time thing became a mandatory act for every performance. It turned from “Oh Wonho, maybe show the fans some skin” to “Crap Wonho went rogue. MAYDAY MAYDAY WE GOTTA STOCK UP ON HIS SHIRTS.” (just give the man some pasties dammit or the shirt is coming OFF)

________________________________________________

Shownu as Gluttony:

I feel like people mistake Gluttony as only something based on an over abundance of food. But it can also mean the “over-indulgence and over-consumption of food, drink, or wealth items.”

Shownu is most like the definition of the virtue, Temperance (Virtue opposite of Gluttony).

“Temperance is defined as moderation or voluntary self-restraint. It is typically described in terms of what an individual voluntarily refrains from doing. This includes restraint from retaliation in the form of non-violence and forgiveness, restraint from arrogance in the form of humility and modesty, restraint from excesses such as splurging now in the form of prudence, and restraint from excessive anger or craving for something in the form of calmness and self-control.”

We know Shownu for his leadership and amazing self control. He is the Papa-Bear. Extremely supportive and a pretty chill person. But Shownu isn’t perfect despite people expecting him to be. He is human, he makes mistakes. Gluttony can go hand-in-hand with Greed in this situation. He wants Monsta X to succeed more and to be the best. I feel like Gluttony can go hand-in-hand with all of the sins, which Shownu might all have. Envious of other members due to his small popularity compared to them. Prideful of his talent and body and nature. Little pieces of each sin but at the same time, he has every aspect of all of the virtues as well. A balance between good and evil. Hence why he is the leader. He understands all of the “bad” parts of each member but he also knows all of the good parts too and respects them.

________________________________________________

(Gif credit to Admin Mon)

-admin bbe

[loverofthefiction]

My Cat Really Likes You

Summary: You adopt a new cat at Diagon Alley and run into Sirius.

Marauder’s Era!Sirius Black x reader

Word Count: 1562

Warnings: allergies/allergic reactions, mentions of dead pets :(, and a lot of fluff

Author’s Notes: hey everybody! I decided to try my hand at writing something Harry Potter and I obviously chose Sirius Black (because he will forever and always be my favorite). I’ve been a bit weary about posting this because I’m obviously not British at all and I don’t even know if this is accurate dialogue (I hope it is). Anyway, I hope you enjoy, and remember that constructive criticism is always welcome. Finally, REQUESTS ARE STILL OPEN. Ok, that’s all, enjoy!

The death of your owl, Mag, had hit you hard. She had been a gift from your grandparents the day you received your Hogwarts letter. She was very smart (smarter than any other owl in your opinion). Now your free time was spent laying in your dorm and staring at the place where she would sleep, wishing that she would sit there one last time.

For the last month of your fifth year, Sirius had noticed that you had been very quiet. You two weren’t friends but had definitely worked on some herbology project in the past, or have given each other an awkward tight-lipped smile when you passed by each other in the corridors. He didn’t know why you were so conserved; from what he knew you were a social butterfly. You were kind to everyone and from what he saw, you had lots of friends.

On the last day of school, you kept your head low and carried an empty owl’s cage out of your common room all the way into the Hogwarts Express. He wanted to talk to you and cheer you up, he really did, but he decided that it was better to give you your space.

The summer had been a perfect time to mourn over the loss of your owl (being at school at the time of her death didn’t really give you enough time to cry). It took awhile for you to feel alright again, and by the time that school was right around the corner, you had basically gone back the happy you that you were before. Of course Mag’s death still felt awful, but you knew it was time to move on.

Step one of moving on was to visit Diagon Alley to buy all your school supplies for the next two terms. This school year was to be the year when you were going to turn into a completely different person. The girl who had wanted gone through extreme measures to fit in wasn’t who you wanted to be anymore. This year, you decided, was going to be the year of a genuine you.

As you strolled through the immense amounts of shops in an alley filled with other kinds of wizards and students buying their own school supplies, you started to feel a bit overwhelmed for the amount of people surrounding you. You needed a bit of air, so you walked into a random shop, not caring for the type of product they were selling, just as long as you could get a bit of peace.

The shop you had entered, however, was anything but peaceful. The shop didn’t have a single human inside of it for what you could see, instead its walls were filled with shelves and shelves of cages with any sort of creature you could imagine. There were the obvious kind; cats, toads, owls. However, there were also many other magical things that you hadn’t even looked at in your Care of Magical Creatures class.

“Hello, love, welcome to Magical Menagerie. I’ll be with you in a moment, let me just place these Puffskeins into their boxes, feel free to look around,” a short and plump woman that suddenly popped out from behind the counter said in a sweet voice. As she said, she was grabbed a small ball of fur from a paper bag and put it in a box with several breathing holes randomly adorning it.

You looked at the shop in amazement; every creature was unique and vibrant.

But your eyes landed on a smaller cat.

Her big eyes showed her longing for a bigger life out of her cage and you felt sudden pity for her. A small ache grew in the same place where you felt the hurt for Mag’s death. You knew what you had to do.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” the woman dusted off the counter. “How may I help you?”

“I’d like to adopt this cat,” you smiled.

“Her name’s Wick. Want to hold her first?” she asked and you nodded. The woman walked over to the cage and unlocked it. The cat cowered away to the back of it in fear but didn’t resist when it was picked up and placed in your hands. She sniffed you, wanting to know more about you and even went as far to lick your hand.

“She’s so precious,” you said as you scratched her head adoringly.

“Oh, poor little Wick. She’s had a hard life, owner’s abandoned her, they found her being tested on by some third year students… Are you sure you want her?”

You looked into her grey eyes, she trusted you.

“Yes, I’m sure.”

..

Sirius, who had spent the summer with the Potter’s, now sat outside Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlour, poking at the leftover banana sitting at the bottom of his already eaten banana split. James had spotted Lily in one of the most crowded stores and Sirius had no intention of being pushed by hundreds of people (that was an exaggeration but hey, it’s Sirius Black we’re talking about).

How long does it take to stalk your crush? he thought as he sighed.

He stretched, sitting for so long had been causing an ache on his back muscles, and he was over waiting for James and his shenanigans.

He got up and was about to start searching for James when he saw your head in the crowd. Happy to see someone he knew, he called out your name.

“Y/N!”

You turned around and smiled as you recognized him. As you started to walk over to him, he noticed that you were holding a furry creature in your arms.

“Hi, Sirius,” you greeted.

“It’s so nice to see a familiar face in the crowd,” he smiled.

“I know, especially after such a long day.”

“How’re you feeling? You were pretty quiet at the end of last term,” he furrowed his brow in genuine concern.

“I’m doing better now, my owl died a couple months ago and I didn’t take it very well.”

“Oh no, I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, I’ve kept myself distracted by shopping,” you smiled.

“Speaking of shopping,” he lowered his gaze to Wick in your arms, “who’s this?”

“Oh!” you exclaimed, happy that someone noticed your new pet. “This is Wick, I just adopted her from that store over there. I figured she could give me some companionship this school year.”

“She seems so sweet. May I pet her?”

“Oh, I don’t know, she doesn’t seem fond of strangers,” you said reluctantly.

“Oh come on, I love cats. Well, I’ve never actually met one, but I love them.”

“Well, alright,” you agreed and a big grin appeared on his face. You placed Wick in his arms, and he pet her head.

“You’re really cute, Wick,” he said as a slight scrunch in his nose appeared. Wick had started to purr and it was obvious that she really liked him; maybe she didn’t mind strangers. But Sirius, on the other hand, looked really uncomfortable; his eyes grew red and watery, and his nose get scrunching up. It was evident that something was wrong.

“Are you okay?” you asked.

“Yeah, maybe the wind is just blowing some pollen in or something,” he sniffled.

“A-are you sure? I don’t feel anything,” your furrowed your eyebrows in confusion and concern.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine--”

ACHOO!!

Both you and Wick jumped at the loudness of Sirius’ sneeze. You took the cat from his arms as he kept sneezing and wiping his nose.

“Sirius…” you started.

“Yeah?”

“I think you’re allergic to cats,” you chuckled.

“I think you might be right,” he wiped his nose again.

“Well, that’s a shame, Wick really seemed to like you,” you gave him a disappointed smile.

“I really liked her too, maybe I can try some sort of potion that gives me the ability to hang around cats,” he returned the smile.

“You’d go through all that trouble to spend time with my cat?”

“Well, no, not really,” he scratched the back of his neck. “I’d do that to spend more time with you.”

“W-with me?” you stuttered, not believing what was coming out of his mouth.

“Of course, you’re amazing and so much better to be around than James or Remus,” he smiled as you blushed at the compliment.

“Thank you, you’re pretty great to be around too,” you looked down at the curious Wick in your arms. “And she’s not the only one who likes you, you know.”

“Really? And who else might like me?”

“I don’t know, me maybe?”

“Hey, Y/N,” Sirius spoke softly. You raised your head and stepped closer, slowly pushing your chin up with his finger. “May I kiss you?”

Not being able to find your voice, you nodded and gave a small smile which he reciprocated. He leaned closer, your lips almost touching when he pulled away and turned his head.

ACHOO!!

You laughed as he pouted and wiped his nose again.

“Damn, I thought I’d be done with that,” he glared at Wick.

“You can’t get over an allergy that quickly, Sirius,” you continued your laughter.

“Well, now that I know that, do you want to walk around with me? Maybe you can teach me a bit more about allergies,” he gave you a cocky grin.

“I’d be honoured to.”

ACHOO!!

“Damn it!” he exclaimed as you cackled.

[brightaely]

Death Of A Serial Killer - Chapter 1

Genre: angst, thriller, mystery

Pairing: You x Everyone (not all of them would be romantic but all of them would be important to the story)

Summary: 1965 - there’s reports of a dangerous serial killer going around the small town you live in. And while the rest of the town is trembling with fear and doing everything they can to protect themselves from the brutal murderer you, as a journalist in the local newspaper dedicate yourself on learning as much as you can about the dangerous man which slowly leads you closer to him. 1966 - you wake up in a mental asylum with all of your past memories gone. There, while trying to recover your memories you become close to a group of boys who will help you uncover the secrets of the hospital and maybe even the ones of your past.

Word count: 8k

A/N: Almost every character in this story suffers with at least one type of mental illness and I just want to clarify that I do not mean to be in any way disrespectful to any readers who might suffer from the same problems. I have made sure to educate myself as well as I can on all of those conditions and tried to write the characters in a way that is respectful and realistic. So make sure to let me know if you ever think that the way I express a certain disorder is not accurate and I’ll make sure to change it and try my best to get even more educated on the topic.

~September, 1965~

The Killer

I used to be scared of the night. The darkness and silence that came with it had always made me uneasy and sort of uncomfortable. But recently, I’ve started to learn to find comfort in the shadows of the night. It provides not just a great mood that is eerie enough to fit well with my story, but it also provides me with a great sense of protection and many, many perfect opportunities to strike… I walked down the dark alley with a bottle of whiskey in my hand (an item which had become a necessity in all of my…”adventures”), so to every bypasser (of which there were very few at such a late hour of the night) I would look like a completely regular disgusting old drunk. What they wouldn’t know though was that I have a knife in my pocket, the dry blood from last time still splattered all over the cold steel of the blade.

The house that I’m headed towards tonight is a way too familiar one. One that I thought I would never go back to. It was a house of my past screams, horrors, and fears. And it’ll soon be the house of my grandfather’s death.

When I first made my list of victims I promised myself that I won’t kill for any reason other than getting revenge. And I am sticking to that. My past is full of people who had used me, hurt me and destroyed me. People who had taken advantage of me and people who broke me. Every day I repeat the list to myself, some days even remembering to add a new name or two. The father who forgot me, the man who stole my innocence, the woman who told me I had no future, the person who covered me with scars, the friend who stole from me, the person who got me in jail, the woman who broke my heart...And of course - tonight’s target - the grandfather who tortured me…

So far, I had managed to check off two people from the list. First one was my father - the man was an alcoholic, never took care of me when I was little and going into adulthood he seemed to just completely forget about me and my brother, too busy with the demons that were flying around in his head and the shadows that he had managed to surround himself with, to realize that his kids had turned into adults. Both of us left him of course, too eager to start going down our own paths to have enough time to deal with him. But after I dropped out of college, after I went to jail for two years and after the girl which I thought was the love of my life broke my heart, I came back. Came back to this town of memories, pain, and suffering - this town that I hated with my entire being - and decided to fix it. But most importantly I decided to get revenge. On everyone. And my father was lucky enough to be first on my list...The second person was the friend who stole from me. There’s not much I have to say about him. I won’t even tell you his name because that would be quite frankly speaking - a waste of time. I will tell you though that everything he stole from me I got back. I got it back even if that took stabbing the son of a bitch in the chest.

Now though was my grandfather’s turn...The person whose death I awaited most eagerly out of everyone on my list. In 95% of my memories of him, my grandfather is present as a monster. A creature that is way less than a human, his monster-like actions way worse than anything a normal human can do. I almost chuckle to myself at that. I suppose it’s ironic...and hypocritical to call his actions monster-like and evil, considering that I’m not doing anything much better and humane. But the things he had done to me are bad enough that they can justify (at least to a certain extent) what I’m going to do to him tonight.

As a walk up the street, the old house almost in view now, the memories come rushing back in my head.

This happened just about a year after my mother died. Our father was refusing to take care of us, losing a piece of himself every day and focusing mostly on his addictions. Me and my brother were alone...We needed help and my brother was way too young to work and find us a house. So in desperation, we decided to move in with our grandfather. The man seemed mostly normal last time he had seen him. He was still little less than a stranger to us though. And foolishly, we decided to just move in with him, because we knew he lived in the same town as us. That was when it all started.

He was fairly normal the first few days except for the moments when he decided to just isolate himself off for pretty much no reason, but me and my brother just assumed that it was because he was still grieving our mother’s death. After a week or two passed though, he got worse. Instead of isolating himself, the man would get angry - sometimes for no apparent reason - and hurt us. He would throw empty glass bottles at us, beat us with belts and keeps us locked in our rooms for days with almost no food and water. I remember how every time my brother tried to protect me from him, my grandfather would grab him by the throat and shove him against the wall, choking him until he was close to passing out and then letting him drop to the floor - gasps and choking sounds filling the room as my brother was once again able to fill his lungs with air. The man was a monster. Even though we were children both me and my brother realized that he had a problem. He found joy in hurting us! I can specifically remember his disgusting smile and his low, terrifying laugh as he looked at the purple bruises on my brother’s neck in satisfaction. The bruises that he had caused.

I feel anger boiling inside of me at the memories as I stop in front of the door to the house. This was it. Time to escape the memories of the things he had done to me and get revenge. Time to kill the madman so he won’t ever hurt anyone again.

I knocked on the door and almost immediately he opened it, appearing in front of me like a nightmare that came to life. We looked at each other for a few moments, examining the marks that time had left onto us, and I couldn’t help but notice how old, helpless and broken he seemed now. It made me happy. “Hello.” I finally broke the silence, trying to look as normal as possible. Trying to not make him think even for a second that tonight is going to be his last night on earth. Because I knew that he must’ve heard about my previous murders - they were all over the news. I wondered if he suspected that it was me who killed both of those people. I wonder if he suspected that he will soon be the third one.

“What are you doing here…?” He asked and his expression turned to one of anger and madness. An expression that I was used to. But an expression that I had learned to not be scared of.

I smiled at him, not even trying to hide the flames of insanity that I knew sparked in my eyes.

“I came to visit you!” I said, my smile growing into a grin as I walk inside intrusively pushing the old man out of the way and turning around to face him. I’m taller than him now. Stronger. And he doesn’t show his fear, but I can feel it.

“Didn’t you miss me, grandpa?” I ask sarcastically, pretending to be hurt as a low chuckle escapes me. His confused reaction is just truly priceless.

“W-w-why are you here?!” He asks again and I can see the fear grow in his eyes. At that moment, I knew that he had pieced it together. He might be a monster but he’s not a stupid person.

I reached behind him and locked the door before looking down at his terrified face. Weak, alone and insane. Such a sad, sad way to die.

“What is it, grandpa?” I raised an eyebrow at him, “Am I scaring you?”

“Get out of my house…” He mumbled quietly.

“But why?” I asked, grinning widely as I took a step closer to him, “I missed you SO MUCH!”

“Get out of my house!” He exclaimed, louder this time. “Or I’ll…”

But before he could say another word I shoved him against the wall roughly, my fingers wrapped around his throat. The way he did to my brother.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that grandpa…” I said, my voice turning low and serious, the teasing tone now completely gone. “I have something very important that I need to do and I’m sure you know what it is…”

I tilted my head to the side, watching the old man cough and choke as my grip on his throat tightened with each second, his eyes filling up with tears. It was extremely satisfying to watch.

I groaned angrily, slamming his head into the wall before dropping him to the floor and looking at him with a crazed expression.

“YOU KNOW WHY I’M HERE DON’T YOU?!” I chuckled darkly. “You knew I was gonna come for you...”

“Please…” He looked up at me and I could see tears rolling down his cheeks. It was pathetic. He could at least try and die like a man.

I shook my head, pulling the knife from my back pocket and kneeled down next to him.

“No...Not after what you did to me...Not after what you did to him…I can’t let you live…”

His scared, sad sob echoed through the room before I sunk the knife into his chest. I smiled at his scream and stabbed him again. Then again. And again. I didn’t stop until I was sure he was dead. His helpless screams and pleas for help stopped and his lifeless eyes stared up at me.

Relief. That’s what I felt as I walked out of the old house, putting the knife back in my pocket. Relief that he was gone. Relief that he couldn’t hurt anyone anymore. Relief that I got revenge for the things he did to us. And relief that yet another murder went as planned…

Y/N (The Journalist)

You sighed in frustration, putting your pencil behind your ear. You just couldn’t piece it together. Nothing made any sense. 3 murders. None of which seemed to have any kind of obvious connections except for the fact that all three victims were male, all of them had been murdered on a Sunday and all of them were proven to have died from a stab wound. To you, that was more than enough evidence to prove that they were killed by the same person, but to the police it meant nothing. At least that’s what they told you. And it frustrated you because you knew that they weren’t telling you the whole truth. In their attempts to not cause panic, the police were hiding all the important information that you wanted and needed to know.

You were a journalist, and your duty as such was to provide information to the people - no matter how hard, dark, twisted or scary - it was important to you that they knew the truth. So because of that, you were willing to put yourself through a lot to provide your readers with the right facts, and since the police were refusing to collaborate you had started an investigation on your own.

Right now your findings were spread out in front of you on your desk and you stared down at them as you tried to come up with a solution to your problem. There must be some kind of connections between the victims, you were sure of it...But you didn’t know what it was...And unfortunately, you couldn’t know because you weren’t the police and you didn’t have access to as much information about people as they did.

You sighed again. This investigation was going to be an adventure. And - you knew - very dangerous. No one knew who or what this person was, why he was killing all those people and how dangerous he was exactly, and for all you knew there was a very big possibility that once you started your search they will track you down and kill you for being too nosy. But you were ready to take the risk and there was no one to stop you….

You’ve been living by yourself for more than three years now. You rarely talked to your family and since they lived so far away they didn’t exactly know what you did for a living because you never really bothered them with that. And since your job was the most important thing to you right now you weren’t in a relationship either, so you were completely and absolutely alone with no one to stop you from going into one of the most dangerous investigation a lonely girl can go into. But you were reckless, curious, hungry for answers and passionate about your job. And even though you were scared, you weren’t going to let that stop you. Instead, you pushed away all the scary and unsettling what-ifs and focused on the facts, focused on your plan…

You weren’t exactly sure what your plan was yet. And to be completely honest you really are the type of person who loves abandoning your plans and improvising at the spot, so you never make your plans too detailed, because you knew that they would end up being worthless anyways. This time though, you knew that you can’t do without a plan, that would be a very, very stupid thing to do.

What you planned to do was interview as many people from the town as possible, see what they know about the victims and ask about their theories about who the killer is. In your three years of being a journalist you had learned that sometimes ordinary citizens know a lot more than you would think, so you must take the time to listen to them because even though some of them were closed off our eccentric or crazy, almost everything they say has a truth to it. And if you wanted to get to the bottom of those murders you needed to listen and connect the dots to find the truth.

And the first person you were going to interview was known as the nosiest lady in town. You couldn’t take a step outside of your house without her knowing about it. She knew absolutely everything - whether you were in a relationship or not, whether you were healthy, sick, broke or alone she always knew. Mrs. Gray was her name. And the old woman who gave the impression of being innocent and sweet, but anyone who knows her personally can say that she is the complete opposite. She was a sad, sad, lonely woman whose only happiness came from gossiping. Maybe that’s why no one ever complained about her even though everyone knew the things she did - they just didn’t want to ruin her completely. But you knew that she would give you a lot of answers. You knew that she was going to tell you the truth (or at least her version of it) because Ms. Gray loved gossiping and gossiping is never fun if you don’t have anyone to gossip with…

~March, 1966~

Y/N

Gone. All gone. Every single memory. Every single one lost somewhere deep inside the darkness of your subconsciousness. And it wasn’t like you couldn’t remember your name or the names of the seven continents and capitals of big cities. Those were things that you somehow remembered. the basics. The how-tos. But nothing more. And it was the weirdest feeling because it made you feel like a robot who was unable to feel anything until now. All your memories were facts that are close to useless and all your emotions - fear, sadness, and confusion.

Communicating with people was strange too. You had only been awake for two days. One of them you had spent mostly sleeping and the other you had spent laying in your bed and trying to recover as much as you can. Trying to fill the painful emptiness in your head. Nurses were coming in and out of your white, dimly lit room and you wished they would tell you more, but they never did. All of them saying the same thing - not yet, just try to recover for now, you’ll talk to the doctor when you’re ready. And all you wanted was to know the truth.

You knew that the hospital wasn’t a nice place. You would hear screams echo down the hallways every now and again. They were filled with pain and insanity. And they scared you, but what scared you most was that when you thought about it you were one of them. This was a mental asylum and you were yet another person who was struggling.

And that was just the emotional pain. Then there was also the physical one. You would get headaches, constantly, ever since you had woken up. No one knew why they happened - maybe it was the fact that you had been in a coma for months, or maybe it was because you were skinny because they’ve only fed you enough to keep you alive, or probably it was because you were too overwhelmed with information and trying too hard to recover your memories.

There was also this scar on the side of your head. A barely healed wound that still stung a bit when you touched it. It was a part of your past, you knew. And every time you saw it you couldn’t help yourself but imagine different scenarios about how you got it. You were always the hero in those scenarios. Always the one rescuing people, always the one sacrificing herself for them. You hoped that you really were that heroic in your past even though you knew it was probably untrue. It was a nice thought though, and probably one of the only positive things of having amnesia - you could reinvent your past and rebuild yourself as a human.

A nurse came in interrupting you from your thoughts and you were thankful for the distraction - sitting alone in a small, locked room can drive you crazy (even though you probably already were). She filled up your glass of water and handed you a small wrapped sandwich, the exact same as yesterday. You opened it and started eating silently, looking up at the nurse who was cleaning the room. She did that yesterday too and you wondered if she did the exact same thing while you were still unconscious too.

The nurse was a nice woman. At least she seemed like one. You never really got the chance to talk to her about anything other than your health and your room. But she always greeted you with a smile and tried to have small talk with you and make sure that you’re fine.

“So how are you today, love?” She asked sweetly and gave you a smile as she sat in the chair by your bed.

You nodded, smiling back at her weakly, “I’m good... Better than yesterday at least!”

She nodded in understanding. “Recovery is hard...Especially after what had happened to you…”

You gave her a hopeful look. For a second the nurse really sounded like she was about to give you more details on what exactly was wrong with you.

“Anyways…” But she didn’t…

She gave you a glass of water and a handful of pills, same as the ones you had taken yesterday.

“Now take your pills and come with me. You’re going to speak to the doctor today...He might...Answer some of your questions…”

You swallowed the pills and smiled widely, “Really?!”

“Yes.” She nodded. You noticed that she looked tired.

Standing up with the nurse’s help you made your way to the door, carefully taking each step. You were still very weak and you were scared that you would collapse every second.

The nurse opened the door for you and started to lead you down the hallway to the doctor’s office. The first thing you noticed was how white everything was - from the wall of your room to the walls of the hallways and the doors to the other rooms. It made you feel like you were in a dream and just for a moment none of what was happening felt real.

The door to the doctor's office was the only brown one you had seen so far. A small sign with bold letters that was hanging from the door informed you that Dr. Carlin was the person you were waiting to see. The nurse instructed you to sit down on one of the old wooden chairs in front of the doctor's office and wait for him to call you before she left to check on one of her other patients, her quiet footsteps echoing down the white hallway.

You waited in silence then, thinking about what was going to happen after the doctor called you in. Would you see your family? Did you have a family? Was there anyone on Earth who cared about you? You couldn't know. But you hoped that they did. You hoped that the doctor would be able to answer at least some of your questions. And at the same time - you were terrified that the answers he will give you might not be the ones you wanted…

The chair next to you creaked, snapping you out of your thoughts. You looked up. The boy sitting in it wasn't much der than you. He had dark brown hair and a face that seemed to be in a permanent expression of worry. The boy was bouncing his leg up and down and chewing on his lip while staring at the wall in front of him. You knew you were in a mental asylum and everything - your nurse had made sure that you're aware of that - but seeing this boy sitting next to you made you wonder if you were actually crazy. If there was another reason why you were here other than your amnesia. And if there was another reason about why you were here, and you were actually crazy - were you the same amount of crazy as everyone else here? As the boy? As all the people whose screams of agony and terror you hear each night before falling asleep? You shuddered at the thought...It was an uncomfortable thought, but still - not scary.

You turned to the boy again, examining him curiously. He didn't seem to pay any attention to you. Instead, he looked down at his lap and started fidgeting with his fingers anxiously.

“Are you...okay?” You asked uncertainty. You knew it was a stupid thing to ask - you didn't know what the boy was struggling with or why he was acting like this, but you wanted to ask - if only just to end the frustrating silence in the room.

He looked up at you as if finally realizing that you're there and then focused back on the wall in front of him, shaking his head.

“Not really…That's why I'm waiting in front of the doctor's office.”

The boy paused for a second then sighed.

“He's the only person who knows how to help me...And I'm scared...Oh, I'm so fucking scared this time!”

His eyes started filling up with tears and he ran a hand through his hair.

Shit. You didn't expect that kind of reaction. What do I do?

The guy turned to you suddenly, sniffling as he wiped away his tears.

“Can you keep a secret?”

You nodded slowly, silently.

He leaned closer to you, looking around before whispering, “I think that there's a group of people out to kill me...They all say that I'm lying! Everyone! But I am certain that what I'm telling you is absolutely true! They've tried to kill me several times before but never succeeded. This time though…” He groaned and shook his head, “God...This time...They might actually get me! And Dr. Carlin…” He sat up, pointing to the brown door or his office. “Dr. Carlin is the only one who can save me from them…The. Only. On-”

“Hoseok!” The door opened and the doctor's voice interrupted the boy’s passionate story. Hoseok looked up at the doctor wide-eyed. “Just relax okay? I'll talk to our new patient  here and then we can discuss your problem, alright?”

Hoseok nodded, looking back down at his lap and mumbling a quiet “yes” as the doctor turned his attention to you.

“Come on in…” He gave you a small smile and gestured for you to walk in and sit down in his office. As you did so Dr. Carlin walked in after you and closed the door, sitting down on the other side of his desk.

He was old - that was the first thing you noticed about the doctor. Definitely not less than 60 and with eyes that were intelligent, friendly and comforting.

The Doctor looked down at a paper on his desk and then back up at you.

“So...We'll start by doing a small exam. I'll ask you a few questions and you answer the ones you know and just tell me the ones you don't...sounds good?”

You shook your head.

“I...I t-t-thought you were going to tell me about my past...And about...Why I'm here…” You stuttered. “And about who I am...And…”

“Shh…” Dr. Carlin interrupted you, nodding. “I will tell you all of that...or at least everything we know...But first I need you to answer some questions so I know exactly how bad your...case is..”

“I…” You paused, then sighed and nodded. “Okay…”

“Good…” The doctor nodded.

37 questions later, you realized that the only things you could remember about yourself were your name and your age.

Y/N. 22 years old. Those were the only two things you could recall. Everything else was just a complete blur in your mind.

“So?” you looked up at Dr. Carlin as he examined your answers.

He sighed and looked up at you.

“Time for the truth I guess…” He chuckled awkwardly. “To be completely honest...We don't know much more about you either.”

You were about to question that but he just held up a hand, telling you to be quiet.

“Three months ago we found you in front of our door, unconscious and with an open wound in your head. No one knew what to do and whether you were going to survive or not, but we still had no choice but to at least try and save you. So we took you in and we closed up the wound. You remained in a coma for a very long time...But you're here now...And you're alive…The problem is that neither you nor us know exactly who you are and where you come from…”

You were confused and scared. And the several simple questions that you had about yourself suddenly became a lot more - all of them so much more complicated.

You decided to remain silent and take it all in. Listen to what else the doctor had to say. And then decide what to do. Everything was terrifying...and confusing.

“So…” Dr. Carlin sighed. “Our plan is...To keep you here at least for another half a year. Help you recover. Both mentally and physically. And at the same time, we're going to start an investigation that will help us find out who you are exactly and where you come from. And of course you are a legal adult so even though this is my recommendation, I am in no position to force you into doing anything, so if you are not happy with this plan of action we can always work out a-”

“An investigation?!” You cut him off sharply, shaking your head. “But why? With all my respect Doctor - I'm not a lost person! I'm right here! Standing in front of you!”

“Yes!” The doctor interrupted you calmly. “There is no denying the fact that you're here standing in front of me, but...Who are you? You know nothing about yourself but your name. And to everyone else - even to yourself - you're a lost person. A nobody. Think of your family. They might be out there somewhere...Looking for you...And being worried sick…”

“But why an investigation!” You nearly yelled, standing up from your chair and trying not to let the panic overcome you. You're a no one...Was the only thought going through your head at that time...A goddamn nobody...You didn't let it show through. You were trying to stay calm. “What if….What if I get my memories back?! Huh?!”

The doctor looked up at you silently for a moment and you knew what he was gonna say even before he said it.

“Actually...There is a very large possibility that you will never return your memories…”

You teared up, sitting back down in your chair and looking down at your lap, shaking your head in shock.

“W-what…?”, you mumbled in disbelief.

The doctor continued.

“We've rarely seen cases like yours. Amnesia is very, very rarely caused by an injury, and from what we've seen about cases like yours - people with the kind of amnesia you have rarely get to recover their memories. Or at least we're not advanced enough yet to know how to treat it. I'm any case...I’m very sorry...But I'm afraid that you might not recover…”

Your hands were trembling as he talked and you started breathing heavily, struggling to keep yourself together. It just got you exactly how lost and alone you are. Your family - if you even had one - was probably far from here or maybe didn't even know you existed. You had no one. Absolutely no one.

The doctor kept talking but it was white noise to you. The words coming out of his mouth were meaningless. Meaningless! You were going to be stuck in here forever and even if you somehow managed to recover and get out you didn't know what you were going to do or where you were going to go…

“Y/N are you listening to me?” Dr. Carlin’s voice was so calm compared to your thoughts - it made you realize how quiet the room was compared to your head.

You shook your head and sniffled, looking up at him.

“I'm sorry I just...Got distracted...What were you saying?”

He sighed and nodded.

“It's okay. I understand that this is a lot to process. And stress is completely normal after such news had just been announced to you...So I completely understand…But what I was saying is that this is exactly the reason why we need to start an investigation. Your memories about your past might be gone Y/N, but with the help of the police and people who knew you we would be able to piece most of your past together” the doctor nodded reassuringly. “I promise you that…”

You just nodded silently, only half comprehending his words. You had nothing to say. There was nothing to say.

“And...While you recover and the investigation starts,” he continued. “You try to enjoy your stay here as much as you can. I mean...It's not a vacation but I'm sure you'll make some friends...and meet many new people…”

You almost rolled your eyes and chuckled at that. The doctor sounded like a school counselor. But instead, you just nodded again, standing up quietly.

“Thank you doctor….I really appreciate your help.”

“You're welcome…” He nodded too and gestured to the door. “You're free to leave now…”

You gave the doctor a small, polite smile and headed for the door.

He isn't a bad man, you thought. You could see that. It was obvious that he just wanted to help. He was just the unfortunate soul whose job was to deliver bad news to people. At least he's good at that, you thought to yourself as you closed the brown door behind you, too good…

Lost, alone, forgotten. The frustrating thoughts continued to haunt you as you started walking down the hallway back to your room. Lost, alone, forgotten. It felt like someone took away the first half of your life. You didn't know who you are or what things you've been through. So to a certain degree, it felt like someone took away a very large part of your identity too. Lost, alone, forgotten...You're a nobody Y/N….A nobody. Lost, alone, forgotten. It was completely ridiculous but you could still feel a small bubble of hope in your chest. I can remember my name and my age, right?, you were telling yourself, there must be at least a small possibility that I'll recover at least part of my memories. Still though, the tsunami of bad thoughts continued to hit your mind and you felt hopeless again. Your knees felt weak, your eyes filling up with tears once again as a quiet soft escaped you blending in perfectly with the whines and the moans and the screams and the groans coming from the patients whose rooms you were walking by. Lost, alone, forgotten. You couldn't even think anymore. You allowed the bad thoughts and the panic to overtake you completely and it was getting to you. Before you realized it everything was spinning and you didn't even feel like you were standing in the completely white hallway of the hospital anymore, but instead, you were somewhere deep in your thoughts. Drowning. Suffocating in them. And before you realized what was happening you stumbled to the ground. Everything was black again. And you were laying on the ground - even more helpless than you were before.

“Is she dead?”

“No, you idiot! She's just unconscious. She must've fainted…”

“God...People look fucking weird when they're unconscious. It's like they're dead but then...not really.”

“Jin can you just shut the fuck up?!”

The voices woke you up. They sounded distant as if you were underwater and they were talking above you. And they were talking about you, you realized as two arms shook your shoulders gently.

“Come on princess, wake up.” One of the voices said way clearer now.

You opened your eyes, rubbing your head softly. You must've hit your head pretty badly when you fainted because it hurt like hell. A soft groan of pain escaped you and boys that were standing in front of you looked down at you surprised that you had woken up.

“Oh good! We were just getting worried that you weren't going to wake up for awhile,” the guy who was holding your arms said. “How are you feeling now?”

“I...have a really bad headache...but other than that I'm fine...I guess…”

The guy nodded and helped you stand up carefully. You could feel that he was genuinely nice and wanted to help but the guy behind him, on the other hand, kept giving you looks that made you uncomfortable. He seemed annoyed by you and something in his eyes showed that almost despised you for some reason.

“I'm Namjoon,” the taller guy said, smiling as he let go of you and you dusted off your clothes.

“And this is Jin,” Namjoon pointed to the other boy who gave you a small nod of acknowledgment. “And you are…?”

You were silent for a moment. In all honesty - you didn't really know who you are. He was simply asking for your name though.

“Oh…I’m Y/N..”, you mumbled softly.

“Ah! You must be new!” Namjoon gave you another smile. “I haven't seen you around before...“

“Yeah...I…” You didn't know what to say. And you didn't feel like explaining everything. “I just got here...A few days ago…”

Namjoon stared at you for a second, silently. You were almost completely sure that he was suspecting you of lying but that could've just been you being paranoid.

“Oh cool!” He finally said, smiling

Jin, the other boy who was silent for almost the entire time leaned forward and whispered something in Namjoon’s ear, both of their expressions suddenly turning into ones of worry and concern.

“...Okay…” Namjoon nodded, before turning back to you, his smile kind of forced this time. “I'll see you around then Y/N...Do you need help with anything else before we leave?”

“I…” You were gonna say no. But then it occurred to you that now you were allowed to walk around the hospital so didn't have to necessarily go back to your room. “I was actually wondering where the showers are?”

Namjoon gave you another smile and nodded happily.

“Yes! Of course!” He said. “Just down this hallway and then to the right by the staircase. You should be able to find them fairly easily.”

You nodded and smiled back politely. “Thank you…”

“Of course. No problem!” Namjoon said, “Goodbye for now though…And please be careful, princess...This place is darker than you would think.”

You nodded in understanding and with that the two boys continued down the hallway hurriedly, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

Was Namjoon just trying to scare you or did he really mean it when he said that this place is darker than you thought? From what you’ve seen of him so far he didn’t seem like the type to do such a thing, so you thought it was very likely that he was saying the truth...The thought of the asylum having a hidden dark side wasn’t even that far-fetched to you - this place was the home of many people’s fears, terrors and simply just terrifying thoughts and you knew that there are mental hospitals who have freaky ways of dealing with their patients’ problems. An ice cold shiver ran down your spine at that thought. It was extremely terrifying and (you hoped) probably untrue, but just the plain thought of it made your heart race.

Down the hallway you went, passing white door after white door, following Namjoon’s directions to the showers. You noticed that this part of the hospital was a lot brighter and slightly cleaner than the part your room was in. This part of the hospital was actually kind of nice. It reminded you more of a school hallway than one of a mental asylum.

As you walked by you heard the sound of someone humming to themselves softly coming from one of the rooms. The melody was strangely familiar and comforting and you couldn’t help but feel drawn to the soft hum. You followed the sound - the door to the room that it was coming from was slightly ajar - and the closer you got to it the more you realized that this couldn’t possibly be the first time you’ve heard this. The familiarity of the song and its possible connection with your past excited you so you pushed the door open quietly. What was inside the brightly lit room was even more interesting…

There were maybe tens or hundreds of paint bottles, pastels and pencils scattered across the room. Empty and half-filled canvases hanging from the walls and windows. And a skinny boy in the center of it, holding a paintbrush and staring into the almost finished painting that was in front of him in deep thought. It was an art studio you realized. Seeing something so beautiful in a place so empty of color and so dark almost took your breath away.

The paintings were all around the room. They were mainly landscapes but you could see several portraits too - every single one of them almost glowing with bright, carefully chosen colors. You wanted to get closer to them, to admire them and to tell the boy how beautiful they were. And without realizing it you had quietly entered the large room, looking around in wonder.

“Who the hell are you and what are you doing here?!” The tall boy turned to you suddenly, anger flashing in his eyes.

He took a few steps towards you, gesturing for you to get loud, “This is not an art museum! And neither is it a gallery! So I would very much appreciate it if you get. THE FUCK. OUT!”

He was getting more annoyed by the second and yelling at you by the end, pushing you backward until you were out the door.

“AND DON’T COME BACK, OKAY?!” Before you could even react he shut the door in front of your face, the loud sound echoing down the hallway.

You knew that what you did wasn’t right but at the same time you felt like the boy was overreacting. Or maybe he wasn’t...What you did really was intrusive...But you couldn’t help yourself! You wanted to see the paintings up close.

A loud gasp and the sound of shattered glass interrupted your thinking. You turned around towards the source of the sound to a boy that looked way younger than anyone you’ve seen today. He was sitting by a pool of water and a pile of shattered glass and you assumed that he must’ve been holding a glass.

The boy was breathing sharply, leaning down to put his hands on his knees and mumbling something to himself that to you was incomprehensive.

Taking a few steps forward carefully and slowly, you placed a hand on his shoulder looking down at him, “It’s okay...I-I’m here...I’ll help you…”

You didn’t know what to say or do. The boy seemed to be having a panic attack and you were worried that he was going to faint as his breathing was getting more chaotic by the minute and you could see his arms and legs start to shake.

“What is-?” Someone pushed you away softly, kneeling in front of the boy and looking up at him. The other guy wasn’t a doctor or a nurse - he was dressed the way every other patient was - but he seemed to know what he was doing.

“Jungkookie…” He was talking softly to the boy whose breathing was slowly going back to normal, “Jungkook look at me. It’s okay. Just take deep breaths...In and out...That’s it…”

“Jiminnie…” The other boy mumbled weakly. “The glass...I dropped it..I..” “Don’t worry about the glass…Just breathe...Slowly…”

While the short looking boy was talking to the one whose name you realized was Jungkook, a third guy tapped your shoulder, making you turn to him startled. He has been there the entire time, you realized, but because of how chaotic everything was you didn’t notice him.

“What the hell happened?” He said angrily. “You were here right? Was it you who did something to him? Did you yell at him? You shouldn’t yell at him that’s-”

“No!” You interrupted him quickly. “No that wasn’t me! I was just...In the room...With the paintings...And the painter guy-”

“Taehyung.” The boy said, anger still evident in his voice. “Did he yell at him?”

“No!” You thought about it for a second. “At least not directly at him…”

“What is that supposed to mean?” The boy who was still kneeling in front of Jungkook asked. He looked up at him. “Jungkookie...Was it Taehyung who scared you? Or was it because you dropped the glass? Or...”

“Taehyung was yelling at me to get out...I think that might have caused it…” You mumbled uncertainly.

Both boys sighed as the short one stood up.

“You…” The one standing in front of you said, trying to remain calm, “Must either be very new...Or very damn stupid.”

The shorter boy pushed him aside before he could say anything else and gave him an angry look.

“What...Yoongi is trying to say...Is that Taehyung doesn’t like company…” He explained. “Especially if it’s from strangers...And especially if it is while he’s painting…”

“I understand that you’re new…” He continued, giving you a measuring look. “At least I haven’t seen you around before...But please...Keep in mind that all of us here are struggling with things that should be respected. Including Jungkook and Taehyung.”

“So next time try to be more careful, alright?” Yoongi added.

You sighed and nodded. “I’m sorry..I just...Didn’t know…”

Yoongi nodded too, “Well now you do.”

The two boys helped the younger one up carefully before continuing down the hallway to wherever they were going.

“Okay, Jungkookie…” You heard one of them mumble, “Let’s go check on Hoseok now...I haven’t seen him since he visited the doctor this morning…”

And as you continued down the hallway to the showers you made sure to remind yourself that this was a mental asylum, and as the boy said - you had to try and understand what those people were going through. Even though, you could probably never understand many of them because amnesia wasn’t in any way similar to what the people here were struggling with, you had to at least try because - you knew - the patients here, the doctors and the nurses would probably be the only people you would interact with for a while...This thought made you miss the people from your past even more. The people who you weren’t even sure even existed…

The Patient

I stared up at the ceiling, deep in thought, a small smile appearing on my face at the thought of her. She hadn’t changed at all. Her eyes were still the exact same round, curious and innocent eyes that I remember. That surprised me because I know from experience that people’s eyes change after they go through what she has gone through - they become dark and sad and empty. And even though I knew that she probably didn’t remember any of it - I was almost absolutely sure that she felt it. She must feel it somewhere deep inside of her - all the pain and suffering and...love that she experienced.

A soft chill ran through my body as I remembered the last time I saw her. Three months ago - completely broken, almost dying and praying to me that I end her suffering instead of trying to save her. She had completely given up. And it was all my fault...All of it because of me….

I hated that I couldn’t tell her the truth about her past. That I couldn’t tell her who I really am. That I couldn’t just go up to her and hug her and tell her how much I love her and how sorry I am for what happened. It was destroying me on the inside that I had to pretend to be completely oblivious to who she was. To pretend that I haven’t dreamed of her coming back for the past three months. And to pretend that I wasn’t relieved to see her alive and well.

I will tell her though, I promised myself, one day when the time is right and she is ready and recovered. But...At the same time, I still thought that I shouldn’t tell her. Ever. That she would be better off living without me. Without what we had. Without all the horrible memories that she has. Without all the pain that I caused her…

Anyways she would be fine...I knew that for sure. She is a strong girl - one who knows how to take care of herself. And even though she wouldn’t know it - she would always have me by her side. No matter what.

I yawned softly, reaching over to turn off my nightlight. I closed my eyes and as I started drifting off to sleep the thought of seeing her tomorrow brought a small smile to my face.