#and you can pinpoint exactly in journeys when they decided that would be his final season

[love-is-a-pearl]

I just can't like BW Ash :( , it feels like they made him too mopey and dumb so Iris and Cilan and even other characters can roll their eyes or be the straight man and stuff like him losing to a guy who forgot to bring a sixth mon is downright mean spirited

pojsadoias I'm sorry but I actually find his loss in BW hilarious :v

I think after DP the writers should've just commited to the idea that Ash HAS to lose and made him lose in stupidier and stupidier ways every season asodjsioadjs I mean cmon, at that point we all were expecting him to lose so they should've just taken advantage of that. Ash getting sweeped by a eternal flower floette would've been the funniest thing ever and i would love to see it XD

But like, I think that's intentional in a way. Specially as a segueway to Kalos. Ash needed to lose in a embarassing way. He needed to have reality hit him straight on the face for him to change his mentality.

"Why was he so different from sinnoh thought?" you might ask. And while I admit this is all headcanons, you can't argue that the DP loss affected plenty of people and it's not farfetch'd to imagine that he acts like that in Unova because of that loss, the lack of a familiar face to care for him that Brock had been for so long.

Maybe he thought he was unbeatable after Tobias? Maybe after Paul he just found himself not that stressed so he did things without much care?

Of course the main reason is the anime trying to target new viewers with a "blank slate" but still, I personally like seeing those changes as something bigger. I understand not everyone does, but it just makes pokeani much more enjoyable to me when everything does connect.

[seaofwine]

What do you like about the Odyssey? Besides some entertaining episodes (e.g. Circe or Calypso), I've never really been able to get into the Odyssey as a whole (I find the first 5 books especially dull). The Iliad really speaks to me more.

It's hard to really pinpoint what I like most about it but I love to talk about the Odyssey so I hope you like long posts hahaha

The first five books act as the exposition. When the Iliad ends, there's a general understanding that most of the surviving characters made it home. Menelaus and Helen have reunited, the catalyst for the Trojan War has been resolved. Agamemnon traversed the sea and made it back, and although he was killed by his wife Clytemnestra, there is no question about where he is; unlike Odysseus.

Telemachus has spent his entire youth without a father. When he finally decides to set out from Ithaca to find any leads on where Odysseus is, he is confronted with the fact that most everyone else has been accounted for. He sees Menelaus and Helen, the order of their kingdom, the comfort they have in each other and the bonds they have restored. Telemachus has known nothing but uncertainty, while his mother is forced to weave lies and deceptions to keep the suitors that plague their home at bay. The first five books really show how important one man can be when he is utterly lost, and what it would mean for everyone who loves him should he be found. These books also show the close interest that Athena, as patron of Odysseus, takes in his family. She steps into the chaos of Ithaca and gives Telemachus the inspiration to embark on his own journey, chasing the ghost of his still-living father.

When we finally reach Odysseus, he is not the same man that those who knew him in Troy described. They are the closest Telemachus can come to knowing what came of his father, but even they are separated by nearly a decade and the breadth of the sea. Penelope hasn't laid eyes on her husband in twenty years, there is no overestimating what that can do to a person's memory. Odysseus's first action is to cry. When finally Calypso is forced to allow Odysseus to leave, by order of Hermes, he makes his own raft and leaves at the first possible moment. He is fighting against the will of Poseidon, against the wrath he incurred, all alone. He has lost every single one of his men, every single person who could ever vouch for his identity, in a world where no one could recognize him, is gone. Despite this, he is still fighting to get back to Ithaca.

Odysseus is so utterly human in the text. When he is hosted by Alcinous, Odysseus asks the singer there to recount the story of the Trojan Horse. It's like landing at the doorstep of a stranger who graciously allows you to stay and immediately asking his DJ to play *your own* greatest hits - which in turn only upsets him. This also sets up the dramatic reveal of his identity (I like to imagine him looking around like, you guys remember this one? Yeah that's Me, I pinkie promise. Please give me 4000 drachmae and your best oarsmen (: ).

He recounts the story of how he got so utterly lost on the way back and one thing the Odyssey will tell you, to your face over and over again, is that Odysseus is a big time liar. But for some reason, his tale is so compelling it's hard to remind yourself of that when hearing it for the first time. Some points are so beyond baffling (like striking Polyphemus in the singular eye the poor sod has, and then once to the safety of his boat (which is on open water, the domain of said cyclops's father) loudly announcing his full gods-given name and mailing address, just in case anyone missed who it was) that it's like, yeah that was probably exactly what he did. This is the section of the story where we see Odysseus as he sees himself. This is his own reflection of the actions he made and the troubles that befell him because of it.

Odysseus is such a complex character that one of the epithets he is given is "polytropos", the many-faced or many-sided. Odysseus and his relationship to his own identity, which he can shed and don at any point that's convenient for him, is one of the main reasons I am obsessed with his story. This, and the exploration in an ancient text about what a close relationship with a deity, is something I am constantly thinking about.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

A Family Thing | Yandere Blue Exorcist

Yukio Okumura has had to limit and expand his definition of family many times on his exorcist journey. His brother was the only constant, which he was fine with. That is until his own demonic half awakened. Now alongside his brother, his identity morphed again like his pointed ears. He did think this might happen but he couldn’t help but connect the dots. But you know who made it easier? (Y/n) Pheles. 

You came to him and Rin on a cloud of strawberry-scented smoke. Literally. Wiping at your suit and tie you explained how the last demon you had fought had made its final stand in a churning pot of strawberry jam. You told them not to think about it too much.

With a smile that blinded them, you told of how you took a long trip around the world to meet the boys Mephisto was so keen on watching stalking. You gushed over them like the older sibling neither of them had. That is until you officially moved onto campus. Where exactly? That was never known for sure. All they could gather was that you were close enough to appear at a moment's notice to pinch their cheeks, ruffle their hair, and coo at them as they did their casual routine. 

He knew it was easy for Rin to lean into you, who openly gave affection to him. Yukio knew he couldn’t react as warmly. Was it his fear? His maturity? He just couldn’t do it. Wouldn’t. He thought you’d grow to love Rin more than him because of this only to be beautifully surprised when you lovingly held him in your arms.

“Hey, I love you both all the same. You’re my ducklings through and through! I’ve decided from this day on!”

Soon he was placed with that familiar ache when you waved goodbye from the window of their dorm on training camps. It was a good ache that affirmed the stringing demand that was creeping up his throat. He couldn’t let you leave them now. 

He can pinpoint the exact moment when this feeling first bloomed in his heart. It was so long ago, if he was anyone else he would have written it off as simply being a child, which he did for awhile, but he knew it was something more. It was back in preschool, Rin had returned to the class after a violent outburst at some kid he later claimed was a bully. While the teacher and other students avoided him like the plague there was one who refused to leave. Following Rin from afar, slowly inching her coloring station toward his–he couldn’t tell anyone why this irked him so. He also couldn’t defend his meddling when he crumpled the flowers left in his twin's cubby. He was his brother, who was she to take that from him?

It was an ugly habit of obsession one he realized he shared with his brother, as Rin mused absentmindedly. 

“Why…don’t we just keep them to ourselves, yeah? That way…they…won’t leave us.”

I mean it’d be bizarre if it weren’t for the two of them. With Rin’s inclination to have you baby him dividing your attention and his own perfectly timed conversations, it was nothing but a game to smother your ringing phone. Silencing it hours in advance so that any alarms or texts from whoever this 'persistent dude’ was. It was a tireless pursuit that seemed to unite him and Rin more than their shared demon heritage. 

It came to a head on a Summers's day watching from afar as you chased Rin with a hose. Yukio was particularly peeved not because he wasn’t on duty for distracting you that day he totally was but because your phone had been ringing off the chain. And whoever this mysterious caller was had caught on, texting you with random excuses about a glitching phone. Every time. He. Deleted. The contact. 

“You think you can keep this up?”

The coy question came from a familiar white terrier with a pink polka-dotted bow. Yukio groaned, harshly pushing up his glasses and biting back a snarl of his own. 

“Do you know who Denji is?”

The terrier's ears flattened and if it was possible its eye furrowed in anger. After a minute of likened frustration, an idea was spawned. Bringing a metaphorical smile to the dog’s face as he birthed a plan only obsessed freaks would concoct. 

“So? Will you help me?”

“Fine. But you can’t keep them to yourself. We won’t let you.”

“Of course not. I could only wish.”

It wasn’t long before there were some changes: a ring on your finger, you carrying that stupid dog around with you, and wearing strangely bright accessories that most certainly weren’t yours. All indicative of the newest addition in your life–a fiance named Mephisto Pheles. The principal and their current guardian: Mephisto Pheles. 

Suddenly Yukio and Rin are subjected to chaotic dinners with you and Mephisto. Days that were previously filled with your voice encouraging them were complimented by Mephisto’s ominous laughing and playful insults. But you were there and you were theirs, a promise you firmly upheld whenever you began an uncomfortable talk about your relationship. 

And even as you reached over your purple-haired husband to wave goodbye, blowing kisses as the limousine revved up, Yukio notes the sound of unsatisfied obsession. Watching the hands that linger around your waist and the caked-up makeup on your neck. He makes the realization that this too was a case of that feeling bubbling to the surface. The obsessive arm around your shoulders, the out-of-place stickers on your things, and the oddly convenient way Mephisto was always at the door, waiting to escort you home. 

It dawns on him how similar they are. Perhaps the string of obsession was a family thing. He didn’t entirely hate that.

“Welcome to the family (Y/n).”

[viviennevermillion]

To have a heart

notes: more wanderer brainrot! this man has possessed my brain. I love him so much, he's like a work of art to me. I discarded my alhaitham guarantee to pull for him spontaneously and I do not regret it.

Here's the song that inspired this fic. I absolutely associate that with Wanderer now and it makes me think of supporting him and giving him hope...

contains: wanderer x gn!reader

warnings: a slight hint of angst if you squint but the rest of this is tooth-rotting fluff.

His lips tasted like salvation. Like you've been waiting to kiss him for an eternity and finally your prayers had been heard. His kiss was light like a feather. Careful. Why? You couldn't exactly pinpoint it. Maybe he was afraid if he let himself fall he'd spiral down into something he'd regret. Maybe he was just unsure what to do or to feel. Or maybe it was a mixture of all of these doubts.

Either way, you had harbored deep feelings for the Wanderer for quite a while now. Ever since his fall from grace when you caught him after being defeated and he'd lay there, unconscious in your arms with tears still on his cheek, you had looked at the Balladeer with different eyes. Hatred turned into pity and pity turned into the desire to support him on his journey to find a new path for himself. And the more time you spent with him, the more you realized you were slowly falling for him.

And now, you had finally kissed him. The topic of relationships and affection had come up in your conversations about human behaviors and emotions. You had learnt that he had never kissed anyone but that he had seen many fall in love and fall apart as a result of it. That he wondered what it felt like.

"I mean, we can try, if you want to know", was a suggestion you would have slapped yourself for if it hadn't turned out as well as it did.

You weren't sure if he did it purely out of curiosity, but his kiss was incredibly tender and gentle. It was obvious that he had never done this before, yet the kiss had you craving for more. So you leaned in for another kiss, gently running your fingers through his dark hair.

When you parted, you smiled at him fondly, without even noticing.

"What's got you smiling like this? Don't tell me you have a crush on me or something?", he asked with his typical mocking voice.

"I have had one for a while now, but thank you for noticing", you said dryly, which made his cocky expression drop immediately. He was used to people using him for their own gains, tolerating him; some of them hating him. But never has someone so casually admitted to feel love for him.

He stared at you blankly for a moment, at a loss for words. He looked down at his hands after pulling his hat into his face a little more.

"You know, you're pretty stupid for that right?", he then replied, hissing under his breath. But from his tone you could tell how unsure he felt. "I'm a puppet. I don't even have a heart. You know it's pointless to love me, right? I couldn't return your feelings."

You didn't know whether it was your imagination, but his voice sounded a little shaky at the last sentence. You shrugged. "I think love is never pointless. Even if it doesn't work out, we always learn and grow from loving others; whether it's a partner, a friend or family. If you don't feel the same, that's okay. I can accept that", you paused for a moment, "but that's for you to decide. If not having a heart is the only thing convincing you that you couldn't love me back, then I can tell you that that's not true. I've seen how you cared about the friends you had. You've loved and you grieved the ones you lost."

You took his hand in yours and started to gently massage his knuckles with your thumb. He looked up at you. Hated, how you were still smiling with such kindness at him. Hated, how it made him feel. But simultaneously it made him feel something he had yearned for for a long time. Was it love?

"You have a heart in every way that matters", you cupped his cheek.

You could see a light blush dusting his cheeks. He didn't want to admit it, but your words touched him. They were something raw and incredibly precious to him from the second they left your lips. He knew he'd remember them for centuries.

"Archons, do you have to get all sappy on me?", he mumbled and crossed his arms.

"You're into that."

"I'm NOT into that-", the way he was visibly flustered told you he was lying. "Did anyone ever tell you that you talk too much?", he asked before pressing his lips to yours once again in an attempt to kiss his frustrations and confusion away. You indulged him, gently pulling him into your lap and wrapping your arms around him. To your surprise, he didn't protest or give you a snarky comment like he usually would. You mused that he was enjoying this a lot.

You pressed a kiss to his cheek. Neither of you talked for a while.

"Besides", he raised his voice eventually, "isn't what humans call love just a series of chance encounters? If your memory was never restored after I erased myself from Irminsul, you'd just fall in love with someone else and it would be like I never existed in your life to begin with. Maybe that would have saved you some trouble."

You shook your head. "When it dawned on us what you were about to do, I wrote a small poem on a piece of paper in an attempt to preserve some of my memory. It didn't work the way I intended, but it did make me remember how you made me feel. It made me remember that whoever you were, I loved you and cared about you. When the Traveler told me about you, I thought that day I had lost someone who was very dear to me", you started to tear up, remembering how hopeless and confused you had felt, "I may not have remembered who you were, but I missed you. I wished I'd have more to remember you by. You may not have a heart but you touched the hearts of others. Even if they forget you, the fact that you left your mark on this world and the way you made others feel never really fades."

"I told you not to be so sappy", he rolled his eyes but pulled you close, whispering his next words quietly, "stop crying, idiot. You're not getting rid of me that easily."

He spoke softly and affectionate, making your heart skip a beat.

"Likewise."

He let out a sigh of relief. Of course, knowing betrayal as well as he did, there was a chance your words were simply another empty promise. But the prospect of you sticking around gave him hope and it made him feel a long-forgotten but familiar warmth. Perhaps you were right, he thought, perhaps the way we feel about each other really remains even if all else crumbles.

"I suppose we can try", he mumbled, resting his head on your shoulder. "Mmh?", you asked. "I feel something. I'm not sure if I can love someone....to be honest I'm not even sure what love is supposed to feel like....but I suppose we could figure out together. And if you ever make me say something as cheesy as this again I will push you into a lake."

You chuckled and kissed his lips again. He kissed back more confidently this time, having decided to give love a chance.

You looked into his eyes after the kiss had ended, taking his hands in yours as a silent promise that you would stay by his side. Your touch felt comforting and healing for him in this moment. When you spoke again, for just a second, he had no doubts about loving you. Your next words made his lips quiver and smile like he hadn't in a long time; peacefully and with a feeling of hope:

"You have a heart in every way that matters. And I don't care if you don't have an actual heartbeat. Mine can beat for both of us."

[thefanficmonster]

Fated

Karl Heisenberg x Autistic, Sound-sensitive Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing, Spoilers for RE8:Village, Noise sensitivity

Genre: Romance, Comfort

Summary: Not everyone could love a man like Heisenberg. But Y/N isn’t everyone, nor is she just anyone. She loves him as the whole package he is: murderous intentions, human experiments and all.

Requested by @phoenixofthevalley Hi dear! Here you go - the first fic I’ve ever written for Karl Heisenberg (first of many) and thank you so much for being my first ever Resident Evil 8 requester! Hope you enjoy the read! Feel free to correct me if I’ve described anything incorrectly or in an accidentally offensive manner. I have no intention of spreading hate or any type of misconception so I’d really appreciate the correction. Love, Vy ❤

Watching Karl get so excited over this grand plan of his - the destroying of Mother Miranda, his revenge - it all makes me feel uneasy. I can’t explain the feeling, mostly cause I’ve never felt it before, and I can’t quite describe it either. I don’t connect to people easily and I’ve always been told I’m the problem but I guess it took the right person to make me feel things I haven’t felt for no one else all my life.

“The weren’t worthy of your emotions, darling.“ Karl told me on one of the rare occasions when I opened up my mind to him. I felt his words wrap around me like a comforting embrace. For the first time in my life, I felt understood.

I think that’s what took me the longest to get used to - being understood, seen and validated. My opinions had never before been taken into account seriously, my personal boundaries were rarely respected by others and people always had a hard time dealing with how distant I can be. But what bothers me above all is how people refer to me as dramatic because of my sound sensitivity - something no one took seriously when I’d tell them about it.

Karl did though, surprising me to no end.

He respects that I like my personal space and prefer not being shown much affection, especially not physical. He understands that I have a hard time showing people affection myself. He goes out of his way to make sure I’m ok with whatever it is he’s doing, saying or suggesting. And I’m sure that if I were to ever tell someone about this, they wouldn’t believe me. That’s most definitely due to his rough exterior and intimidating appearance. Also probably because he comes off as downright selfish and rude when you first meet him, but getting to know him was a journey worth taking because I now know the real him. A trust me, his rough exterior and the softness of his true self have nothing in common. Although, he does claim that softness is only reserved for me.

With all that laid out, it’s completely understandable that I don’t want him going up against Mother Miranda. Thanks to Karl I’ve never had the displeasure of running into her, but I’ve heard countless stories of how powerful and downright terrifying that witch is. Bottom line: I don’t want Karl walking into something that’s the equivalent of suicide.

And I’ve finally decided to let him know exactly how I feel about it.

I’ve been sitting here, searching for my voice as I observe Karl in his deepest thinking space. He’s constantly in it, if you ask me - constantly thinking, looking for ways to make his innovations better, stronger, more powerful to add to his chances of victory against the sadistic ruler of this village. He was already at his desk when I walked in, hunched over dozens of drawings drawn with cut-edge precision yet in his mind they are probably not near good enough. In his mind, all he does is never good enough. He prides himself on this factory and what he’s produced thus far but he cannot stay proud of himself for very long, he constantly feels the need to better himself in order to remain worthy in his eyes. I wish I could change his mindset on those grounds but I know that my tries would be futile and pointless.

“Karl?“ I suddenly speak up, surprising both him and myself. I don’t know what I was thinking opening my mouth when I still have no idea how to go about this without making it seem like I don’t believe in him. That is in no way the case. I believe he can defeat her, if he cannot do it himself, his robo-army most certainly can. But I don’t want defeating her to cost him his life cause without him in mine I’m not sure what will be left of me.

He straightens up from where he’s been hunched over for the past God knows how many hours, rolling his shoulders and stretching his arms as her turns to look at me, his sunglasses capturing the white neon light in the office as he does so.

“What is it, darling? Something wrong?“ he takes a step towards me as I stand up and go to approach him.

“Actually...“ Suddenly, that thing he keeps in a safety cell just below this room starts going off with that annoying loud sound it makes. It’s always disturbed me, ever since it came to exist which was not so long ago considering it’s been his latest project. It not only terrifies me but triggers my sound sensitivity as do most of the machines in this forsaken factory.

I close my eyes tightly shut as I cover my ears with my hands, praying for the sound to go away as soon as possible because I can’t take it. It almost makes me physically nauseous and gives me vertigo, bringing me to the brink of tears because of its loudness and intensity, like it’s drilling right into my brain.

I can’t quite pinpoint the exact moment the sound went away because when faced with such a pain-inducing experience, my senses tend to tune out while I still remain conscious, but when my hearing returns I the only thing I’m able to hear is a steady heartbeat and a steady breathing. 

“It’s ok, darling. You’re ok.“ I hear Karl’s quiet whisper, giving me peace and coaxing me into opening my eyes.

When I do so, I come to realize why the rest of the world has gone quiet. Why I’m suddenly so flooded with comfort like no one is able to bring me. No one but him.  One of my ears is pressed up to his chest while the other is covered by his warm hand which travels up to move a strand of hair from my face and put it behind my ear as he repeats his soothing words like a chant, slowly starting to let go of me out of fear that he’s crossing a line. He’s always so wary about that and I’ll forever be grateful to him for it.

“Are you ok, sweetheart?“ His hands gently cup my cheeks, tilting my head so I can look him in the eyes - directly in the eyes, for he has ridden himself of his glasses. I’ve found he does that often when around me - removes his glasses. I once asked him why that is but the answer he gave me was vague, all the while a small smile played on his face. Guess he’s a bigger secret-keeper than I primarily thought. It doesn’t bother me really, I know the only secrets he keeps are the ones that would be a hazard for my safety if he exposed me to them, so I allow him his secrets and I keep some of my own to myself. It’s only fair, after all.

I nod, blinking up at him, “Yes, I’m ok. But...“ Now or never, girl. Now or never. “But if you want me to be honest, I will be.”

He looks baffled by my answer but he doesn’t falter, quickly regaining his composure before he replies, “Of course, dear. I always want you to be honest with me. What’s on your mind, what’s bothering you?“

Now “I haven’t been really ok for a while now.” I take his hands in mine, removing them from my cheeks but holding them firmly between us - a gesture that surprises me just as much as it shocks him. Never have I felt the need to be so close to someone. It may be momentary and temporary, but I refuse to dwell on that as I push forward with my argument, “I haven’t been ok since you told me about your plane. The whole thing with Mother Miranda and all that...” Not the time to be leaving me, words. I started this, I’ll finish it. “Look, Karl, I know you and your army can bring that witch to her demise but...”

“But what, Y/N? Tell me.“ He encourages me softly, his hands subtly tightening their hold on mine as if to keep me grounded, remind me he’s listening closely to every word I’m saying. Like he always does.

“But what if it doesn’t go as planned?“ I blurt out, biting my bottom lip nervously. It makes me anxious, being so honest and emotionally exposed. That’s so rare for me I doubt I’ll ever get used to it, but that’s the only way I have at least a fragment of a chance of convincing Karl to drop this. “What if things go south and you end up killed or turned into a monster or something else?“

The concern on his face washes away when he hears my words, getting replaced by a soft, consoling smile. I quickly look away, feeling that confession on my part was quite odd. I feel out of place but not uncomfortable, I don’t know how to explain it. It almost feels like relief, like I’ve finally gotten a huge boulder off my chest and I can finally breathe properly. But I can’t, not until I hear his reply. That smile should probably tell me something but it doesn’t - I won’t believe anything until I hear it come out of his mouth with my own two ears.

“Oh Y/N, darling, you won’t lose me. Ever.“ His thumb swipes across my knuckles soothingly, drawing abstract patterns on the skin of the back of my hand, “You never need to worry about me, hun, I ain’t going anywhere. No one can take me away from you or you away from me. Anyone who dares to try, well, bad things will happen to ‘em.“ He chuckles, easing the tension enough for me to able to look up at him again. When our eyes meet again, I see something I can’t name nor describe. All I know is that what he’s telling me is genuine and comes, “I’ll always be here, by your side, Y/N. I will always be here to shield you from anything and anyone. Any rogue lycan or any loud sound, I’ll be there to prevent it from reaching you. Never forget that. Ok?“

That urge to be have him close takes over me again. I think that somewhere in the back of my mind I see a clock ticking down, counting down the numbered hours we have together before he inevitably carries out his plan. As scary as that is, I think I can do nothing but accept it.

And so, that’s exactly what I do.

Wrapping my arms around him tenderly, enveloping him in the first hug I’ve ever given him - probably the first hug anyone has given him - I accept our fate, silently hoping it changes somewhere along the lines.

“Ok.“

[heejojo]

Love Isn't Beautiful But With You It Was

✰ summary: y/n and niki's journey from being enemies to friends to much more than that.

✰ pairing: Niki x fem!reader (and a Jay apperance)

✰ genre: fluff, angst, enemies to childhood friends to lovers

✰ warning: a few sad scenes but I'm not sure they'll be too bad! death

✰ word count: 1.8k (the most so far tbh)

a/n: this is my first fanfic so please leave comments about what should be improved. if you have any requests feel free to leave them! it's past 12am now and I need to sleep but I hope you have a nice day!

prompt gotten from @moonlight-chi77 thank you!

“Love isn’t beautiful but with you it was”

Life disappears in the blink of an eye, but the memories created and the human connection formed does not. The memories created are embedded in our hearts and follow us through different paths of life. Whether those memories are good or bad, they become something we reflect on in later moments.

Nishimura Riki couldn’t exactly remember the first time he met you but all he knew was that he had never hit off with someone the way he did with you.

September 2012

Although Niki couldn't pinpoint the exact date you guys started talking, he knew it was in September of 2012. He knew at first he disliked you and wanted nothing to do with you because you had stolen his spot on the swings.

“That's my spot, I told Jay I was going to stay here forever,” he said while his friend who was behind him nodded enthusiastically, backing him up.

“Your name is not on it and you didn’t buy it so why should I leave?” you asked him without coming down because you got there fair and square.

“I called dibs on it,” he said while puffing out his chest.

“Dibs are for babies,” you say while continuing to swing. “I’m not a baby,” he retorts.

“If you say so, then why are you wearing a Talking Tom T-Shirt?” you ask and his face begins to turn red. “It's cool, isn't it Jay?” he nudges his friend asking him for support. “Cool man, girls just suck” Jay responds and they both leave. “At least I dress myself!” you yell at their retreating figures

After that day, Niki made it his mission to disturb you every day and never wore his Talking Tom shirt again after that day.

August 2016

“Niki!!” you screamed as you felt another water balloon hit your leg. At this point, your entire body was soaked. The young boy continued to laugh and run as you chased him. You were beginning to regret spending your summer break with him when you could be watching TV instead. Eventually, you give up chasing the blond-haired boy and go into the house to dry off. Thirty minutes later, Niki comes in with a bottle of orange juice as a form of apology. You snatch it without further thought and drink it. Looking up at him after you finish drinking it, you both burst into a fit of laughter. “You’re lucky I love food,” you say. Maybe spending the summer with him wouldn't be so bad.

December 2018

Your crush on Niki was painfully obvious to everyone but him. Your friends teased you, his friends teased you yet when you were together you denied it with so much vigour. Niki had liked you for a few months now. Everyone was enjoying the slow burn that was going on between the two of you; the soft glances across the room, the way you always looked for each other among crowds, the way he knew where your secret birthmark was even though your close friends didn’t.

It was the way you complimented each other that made everyone cringe and aw at the same time. The jacket you got him for his birthday was his most prized piece of clothing and the only person he let touch it was his mum. This year though, you gathered enough courage and told him how he meant to you and how you were content with being just friends even if it hurt a little. But you weren’t expecting Niki to say he felt the same way, even more so. Your friends heaved a sigh of relief and choruses of ‘Finally’ were echoed.

It felt good being with someone.

January 2019

Everyone argued with people they loved right? Your parents did, the old lady that sells fruit and her boyfriend did so you and Niki weren’t an exception. After being childhood friends for so long you’d think you could trust each other enough to talk about the things that bothered you but he refused to, claiming that he didn’t want you to see him in a different light and how it would hurt his pride. You would tell him that no one knew him more and cared about him the way you did. At times, you’d let it go not wanting to push him but that day you couldn’t take it.

“We need to talk. Why have you been avoiding me these past few days?” you asked him.

“I’ve just been busy” he replied.

“No, you’ve been avoiding me. I know you well enough to know when you're hiding something” you said.

He wouldn't budge, he never did especially when you cornered him like this. He started to get irritated and said, “I said I’ve been busy so forgive me if I can’t give you attention all the time. Not all of us are as clingy as you” You winced; it was your fault for pushing him to the edge like that. Nevertheless, you wouldn't give up. “ I just want you to say how you feel and what bothers you. I’d never look at you in a different light and you know that. You might want to be strong but it’s okay to show some sort of emotion, it doesn’t make you weak rather it makes you look like someone that acknowledges what is wrong and doesn’t try to ignore the problem or solve it on their own” you comforted him. As the words entered his ears, you could see the walls surrounding his heart crumbling. “It’s okay to ask for help or just to rant to someone. Even if we won’t be able to provide an immediate solution, it should help” you added taking a few steps forward and grabbing a hold of his hands. You squeezed them tightly.

“I...I’m just scared you’ll leave once you see the not so perfect side of me” he managed to say. “I will stay with you, why don’t we make the best of everything without worrying about the future?” you asked while smiling. He returned it and pulled you in for a hug. “Thank you, truly,” he said and you smiled under his embrace.

After a few minutes you spoke up, “Oh yeah, Niki?” you called his attention and he hummed in response. “Don’t ever shout at me like that again, I can deck you and you know it” you said.

“Got it, boss. Sorry for being a jerk”

June 2020

You usually went on diets and exercised a lot but you were losing weight at an extreme rate and you weren’t even on a diet. Niki was worried but you brushed it off telling him it was stress from school but it got worse. You found it difficult for you to balance yourself, you felt nauseated, getting even more frequent headaches and being tired all the time so Niki decided that enough was enough and took you to the hospital. Neither of you had expected the result of the scans that were run.

“I’m sorry but there is a tumour in your brain,” the doctor said. The air left your lungs. “You can choose to get the surgery and live in the hospital for 8 months or live with the tumour for 3 months” he continued. You thanked him and left the hospital. The elephant in the room was very much alive and neither one of you wanted to address it. Did you want to stay in the hospital for the rest of your life or did you want to say with your loved ones? You thought that they would go through and that won’t be worth it.

“Niki” you called out.

He looked at you with a sad smile and just pulled you in for a hug, careful not to hurt you. “Do you want to tell your parents?” You nodded. You couldn’t just leave without saying anything. Picking your jacket, Niki drove you to your parents house.

“I just wanted you guys to know, I couldn’t just leave without saying anything,” you said with your eyes cast downwards. You couldn’t bear to look at your mom who was already crying or your dad who was blaming himself even when it wasn’t his fault or your sister who was basically your best friend. Niki had given you guys privacy but you knew it was just an excuse for him to be with his own feelings.

“I’m going to stay close to home in the meantime so I can be closer to you guys,” you said. Your eyes were already becoming glossy with tears. You inched towards your mom, taking her hand in yours and said, “You did an amazing job of being my mom and I love you so much”. Moving to your dad, you said “You did a good job of protecting me so don’t think otherwise. Let’s make all the memories we want to now without any regrets”. At that, your sister burst into tears “I… I can’t bear to lose you” Your heart clenched. “I can’t bear to lose you too” She continued crying. Your mom wiped her eyes and said, “From today, live the way you want to. Eat what you want and do what you want.” From the corner of my eye, I saw Niki staring watching the whole scene. After an hour, I stood up and went home with Niki. The car ride was a long and awkward one. When we got home, we just slept hugging each other.

Starting tomorrow I was going to live.

July 2020

The pain is getting worse but the smiles on my family and friends faces are enough to keep me going. I wrote letters and got gifts for them. Niki looks at the calendar every day, I can’t tell him to stop because I can tell he’s hurting so much. Why can’t I just be okay for everyone?

August 2020

The time comes faster, Niki and I went on a getaway for a few days. He deserved a break from everything that has been going on.

September 2020

I never thought I'd die as silly as that sounds. I asked my parents and sister to leave when I got to the hospital. Niki refused to leave and stayed there till I took in my last breath. He kept crying begging me not to go and how he’d do anything.

“Does it hurt a lot?” he asked between sniffles

“No it doesn’t, it just feels like a needle” it hurt like a truck.

“Liar”

I chuckled and held his hand till I couldn’t anymore. “I love you’’ I say as the lights fade.

╔═*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*═╗

Dear Nishimura Riki,

When you see this, it means I’m already gone. First of all, don’t beat yourself up too much. I could write for ages about how much I love you but now that I need to, my mind goes blank. You’ve done so well for putting up with me, hats off to you. You might not want to but move on, even though id like you to remember me; let your heart heal and be happy.

Take care of yourself and don’t skip any meals. Eat well and be happy, make sure you visit the places we never got to visit and enjoy yourself. Live life the way you want it every day. Be nice to people and smile more.

Thank you for all the happy memories, my love, I’ll be forever grateful for you. You made my life colourful and worth living.

Love isn’t beautiful but with you it was.

Yours truly,

Y/N.

[mythicamagic]

"You couldn't handle me even if I came with instructions."

Okay, curiosity got the better of me, and even though there are so many good prompts to choose, I settled with this one. There is no telling which way it will go, but it sounds amusing! Have fun! ^_^

Decided to do something different with this involving mind reading, hope you like.

----

Becoming privy to Sesshoumaru's thoughts happened about as unexpectedly as one would think. Having returned from the future after three years, Kagome had figured the amount of weirdness in her life would scale back a bit. The jewel was gone, and everyone was enjoying their 'happily ever afters' so surely she could finally gain some semblance of normalcy in the past, right?

'Irritating…'

Kagome shifted, sneaking a glance at the Daiyoukai as he sat at the base of a tree. His voice resounded inside her mind, seemingly without his knowledge or consent. He was eyeing something flitting about mid-air. A fly, she suspected.

Golden eyes shifted, slit pupils keen. A hand blurred, catching the thing between forefinger and thumb.

'Die.'

Green light shone out from between his fingers, successfully killing his 'prey.'

Kagome supposed it was somewhat comforting to know that his thoughts were about the same as whatever words he deigned to speak aloud. The psychic ability she'd gained only applied to Sesshoumaru, and had happened one random day when she'd been fighting a demon.

Between one moment and the next- a presence had warmed her side as he'd deflected an attack meant for her. This had resulted in sharp, static red youki swallowing their forms briefly- Sesshoumaru's energy rushing through her system. It had stolen Kagome's breath and sent her heart thundering.

A second later, she'd started hearing his thoughts. Most startling of all, they'd begun with something completely unexpected;

'I will keep you safe, foolish miko.'

Biting her lip, Kagome snuck another glance at him- only to find Sesshoumaru gazing back. Squeaking, she focused on her forgotten work, roughly weaving a basket with a little more force than necessary.

"Are you alright, Kagome?" Sango asked, sitting beside her on the grassy hill as they prepared a few herbs and useful things for Kaede.

"Fine! Totally f-"

'Her scent is erratic, yet the woman continues to sneak glances at me. How odd. Is she becoming interested in this one? It is long overdue.'

"What?" Kagome questioned out loud, feeling Sango’s perplexed stare. The heat of another pair of eyes warmed the nape of her neck.

'Hn, I have not sensed her pine for the Half Breed in many months after their breakup. It is possible she is looking for another male. The miko is not promiscuous enough to trifle with me. She requires...a lasting bond.'

Biting her lip, Kagome's eyes burned with want to look at him again.

'Could I keep a miko? She is not like others. They usually despise my kind- and I do not care for them. But this bratty, fiery woman has proven herself through her dealings with the Jewel and the Spider. Mn...the thought of having her should not stir my blood so,' he sighed in her mind. 'Perhaps once I accept my interest in her, the vivid fantasies will stop.'

What fantasies? she wondered.

Kagome really should not have asked, because somehow a lewd mental image of herself was projected from his head directly into her gawking brain.

Standing quickly, skirts swaying about her thighs- Kagome forced a smile. "I-I forgot to do something earlier! Sorry Sango, I'll finish up with you later."

Hurrying down the hill, she stiffened upon hearing a silky voice trail after her inside her mind.

'Why is she leaving? This is unacceptable. She takes her mouth-watering scent with her,' he seemed to pause contemplatively. 'Must your retreating form be so pleasing to the eye, Kagome?'

Kagome flushed red, feeling the urge to cover her ass while running from the unexpected thoughts. However, she kept her hands at her side- a weird thrill of excitement racing down her spine.

Like a radio broadcast sounding out from a speaker- the further she ran, the dimmer his velvety voice became.

---

Emerging from Kaede's hut a few days later, Kagome fussed with her new clothing. Miko robes felt somewhat uncomfortable, but Kaede had insisted she at least try getting used to wearing them for a few days.

She honestly couldn't imagine walking around in such garments as a permanent uniform. They reminded her too much of someone else.

'No.'

Kagome jerked, freezing in place and pretending to fiddle with her collar, trying to secretly glance around for the elusive Daiyouaki.

'...Those robes do not suit her. What's more- her light scent is muddied with unnecessary feelings. Those clothes make you self-conscious, do they not, miko? Take them off.'

Blinking, Kagome's heart warmed slightly inside her chest. He could read her so easily? He...cared about how she felt?

"And those pants cover her long legs. Disgusting. You are the one who forced me into appreciating a woman's thighs, miko. Bare them to me again.'

Hissing a short breath through her teeth, Kagome whipped her head to one side- spying Sesshoumaru lingering by a hut about 40 yards away. He stiffened, blatantly surprised she'd pinpointed his location so easily.

'Could she sense me?'

Blushing, Kagome cleared her throat and gave a slight wave, before disappearing back inside the hut. She wanted to test something, and the fluttering inside her lower stomach was getting too prominent to ignore.

---

Stepping out after a quick wardrobe change, Kagome pretended not to notice him again, fiddling with her cute modern outfit. She felt more at ease in her home wear, and the voice in her head seemed to agree.

'That is much better…' Sesshoumaru's tone slid into that of curiosity. 'You feel mischievous, miko? Now why is that? I sense your fluttering excitement.'

Raised her arms above her head nonchalantly, Kagome arched her back as she stretched.

'What…?' the thinness of his tone almost made her grin ferally. 'What...are those?'

Kagome had never intended to wear them. In fact, she'd stuffed them deep inside the depths of her backpack because Yuka, Eri and Ayumi had taken it upon themselves to buy her something 'sexy' for her bad boyfriend and Souta had innocently walked into her room one day while she was packing. She hadn't had the heart to tell her friends she'd broken up with Inuyasha a long while ago.

She had no need for black lacy thigh highs, complete with suspender garter belts resting enticingly on her thighs. Or at least, she hadn't until today. Kagome stretched with a little more exaggeration, letting out a breathy sigh as her pleated skirt hitched up, exposing more of her toned legs to his gaze.

A terribly loud noise deafened her hearing like a clap of rumbling thunder, heralding a storm. Kagome realised a little belatedly that it hadn't been contained to the privacy of Sesshoumaru's mind- the growl rippling through the space between them.

He stood much closer than expected, golden eyes pinning her in place.

"Oh- hi there, Sesshoumaru," Kagome hid her surprise behind a smile. "Something wrong?"

The Daiyoukai's burning, orange eyes searched her face. Slowly, they dimmed back into gold, as he realised there was nothing appropriate he could say.

'Do you know what you are doing, little minx? Or are you completely unaware of how badly I desire those thighs wrapped around my waist?'

"Nothing," he said out loud, face completely devoid of expression.

Kagome arched a brow. He had a damn good poker face.

"Well...okay," she lifted a shoulder, taking a few steps away. "But you know, if something was bothering you, it would be better all round to just tell me. I'm not a mind reader."

Mild intrigue flickered. "I do not think you would appreciate knowing my innermost thoughts."

"Try me."

Sesshoumaru's lips curved, his blank expression cracking into something more honest and imperfect. Human, almost, in its raw appetite- the demon circling around her slowly like a predator. "The dark hungering of an inuyoukai is not something that pure and pretty miko's could stomach," he uttered.

Kagome took a breath, keeping to her bravado. Because if she didn't keep her courage, the thoughts she'd heard so clearly inside her mind would remain exactly that- formless. Never touching reality.

And that felt like a shame.

"Maybe not all of them could, but I've journeyed across Japan with a perverted con-artist and been kidnapped by dark and terrible demons much bigger than you," she hummed, keeping eye contact. "And I'm not promiscuous or anything, but I'm not a prude either. Given the right person, even I can get a little...hungry."

She heard a sharp in-take of breath. Sesshoumaru stopped, lingering in close proximity as his voice dropped into something downright sinful. "How surprising."

Kagome lifted a shoulder. "Not really, but judging by your hesitancy to share anything on your mind- maybe my 'dark hungering' would be too much for you."

Golden eyes flashed. "Preposterous."

"No, no- I think it's true," she gave an impish smile. "You couldn't handle me even if I came with instructions."

This seemed to snap his carefully constructed facade of control. Sesshoumaru's claws snapped out, fingers trembling as they gripped her hair. A fierce breeze lashed around them as Kagome realised he'd collected white energy around their forms- speeding them out of sight into the lush forest. Away from the safety of witnesses. None could save her now.

Sesshoumaru bore down over her, neck craned, mouth hovering close. It was sharp teeth that brushed her parted lips first.

'I will have you- strange, enticing, annoying woman.'

Kagome shuddered, blue eyes darkened as her thighs rubbed together. Her hands met silken robes, gliding up into silky hair as his arm swooped down, hooking beneath her knees.

While their lips crashed together and Sesshoumaru held her aloft- Kagome smiled and wordlessly obliged by wrapping her thighs around his lean waist, giggling as the taciturn demon inwardly purred.

[definitelynotsuzumi]

Zapped to Another World [Chapter 3]

[Masterlist]

Chapter 3 is finally up! T-T I am really sorry for the delays and future delays since I am juggling between school and Genshin. 

Despite the roof over your head and the cushy bed beneath you, you could not sleep.

You heaved a sigh as you reached your hand into your chest, detaching your Gnosis. If your knowledge was right, you were basically the 8th Archon. A phantom one, judging by Venti’s reaction.

“Oh good, you have not lost it yet.” A familiar voice echoed. You nearly rolled off the bed in surprise as you turned to face Artem.

“How? But I? Huh? What are you doing here?” You stuttered.

“Oh silly head. Or maybe I am the silly one for not letting you know. A Gnosis is a way that Archons can communicate with the Celestia. In other words, me!” Artem threw you a mischievous smile. He seemed a lot more easy-going. Was it because I agreed to this life? Or is it because his sister isn’t here?

You suspected both as Artem kicked back in the air.

“I am aware of that but…Doesn’t this make me…Irrelevant in this world? Weren’t there supposed to be just 7 Archons?” You knitted your brows as he casually floated around the giant room.

“Well, originally, yes. But things change!”

“So, what exactly am I an Archon of?” You looked back onto your Gnosis. As you had agreed to the “contract” when you fell, the Gnosis had transformed into what looked like a chess piece, with a sphere adorning the top of it.

“This world! Isn’t that exciting?”

Figures. The shape atop your Gnosis was shaped like a planet after all.

“…Honestly, not with the Fatui out to get people like me.” You sighed.

“Oh, if they try anything funny with the Order I have made, rest assured, us gods will deal with it.” Artem’s easy-going aura turned bloodthirsty.

You held your tongue instinctively as Artem laughed humourlessly.

“I am well aware of the Tsaritsa straying from her path and interfering. But I have faith in that Outworlder.” Artem hummed as he messed around in your room. He somehow managed to find lipstick paper in the drawers and had put it on. 

“And me. Surely there is more to my existence in this world. Am I right in saying that?” You grasped your Gnosis tightly in your hand.

“Well yes, you are the failsafe I have created. It was pure chance that I lost that game and my temper ehe~” He blew you a kiss with his extremely pigmented lips. 

You were tempted to shout. A pure chance that I got killed by that lightning volt, you mean!

“Aren’t you glad that it worked out?,” Artem closed the gap between the two of you, his eyes staring into yours. There was a dangerous glint in his eyes, as if he could hear your thoughts.

“I am glad for this second chance in life. But it is honestly concerning for someone like me…” You gulped back your fear of the god.

“Understandable. By the way, try to keep your existence as an Archon as downlow as possible. While the Archons may be aware of another one, they will not be able to pinpoint who it is exactly until they meet you. If they got rid of the failsafe, I will be forced to get someone to step in.” 

“…Do you mean the Sustainer of Heavenly Principles?” Artem blinked in surprise.

“Wow, I’m surprised a human from Earth knows about her.  Yes, yes you are right. Clever girl.”

You felt the cold claws of dread grip your heart.

“Communication is a 2-way street. If they can observe and interact with the Celestia, they can interfere with it. That means, if they tried hard enough, they can very well overthrow the gods of the Celestia.” Artem turned serious.

“That is why you exist now. The original plan was to summon a hero from Elysium as a failsafe but seeing as to how things turn out, well, here we are.”

“You talk as if it is my fault that we are here now…” You frowned, “You raged during a game of Uno. Uno, of all games! And caused a whole lightning to zap me into the afterlife. Not to mention, the guilt trip that you pulled just to bring me here.”

Artem rolled his eyes, as if you were snapping over a trivial issue.

“Now you just sound like Solaria. Blegh.” Artem faked a retch before returning to his serious expression.

“Sorry if I made it sound bad that you are here. I mean no ill-intentions. You didn’t deserve to die because of my temper.” Artem patted your head, exhaling heavily through his nose.

You heard footsteps come by your door. Artem gave you a wink as he disappeared into a burst of golden sparks. You hurriedly stored your gnosis to your chest again.

“Miss (L/N), I apologize for the disturbance. Master Diluc has instructed me to provide you with clothing.” A maid came by, a set of clothes and shoes in her hands.

“How kind. Leave them by the dresser. And send him my…thanks.” You watched as the maid bowed her head, putting them down on the oak dresser before scurrying out of your room.

Rising and feeling the silken fabric of a simple red frock, black shirt and a matching cape, you exhaled through your nose. You knew that you were caught up in something complicated and the feeling of helplessness came back to you.

Artem’s voice then echoed in your ears.

‘Find the Outworlder and see to it that he saves this world. If not, well…’ A vision of Mondstadt in flames with the familiar black-red cubes flashed in your eyes.

‘Let’s just say, the option of going into Elysium will be open.’

You did not know when you had drifted off to sleep, but you were glad for those few hours of rest. You slipped out of your day-old school uniform and donned the fresh clothes Diluc had given. They felt light and soft, perfect for traveling under the sun. Given how the sun was blazing through the morning dew, you decided against the cape and slipped it into your bag as well.

Preparing your things, you were not a fan of how the bag of mora you had received from Solaria was getting lighter. Maybe I should become an Adventurer as well…

Walking down the wooden stairs of the Winery, you were surprised to see a huge spread of food on the table, with Diluc leisurely eating his way through a pile of steaks, potatoes and cheese.

“Have some, the people of Mondstadt call this Pile Em Up.” Diluc pushed over a steaming plate. You swore you saw it sparkle in the candlelight.

You tentatively sliced a piece. Meat and cheese at this time of the day seemed a little rich, but as the warm ribs melted in your mouth, you could not hold back a satisfied sigh.

“Your maids are excellent cooks.”

“…I cooked it.”

“…Really?”

“Do you not believe that I can cook?”

Diluc gave you a bemused smile. You looked back down onto your steak. You mentally yelled at yourself to quit blushing.

“I-well, you don’t seem the type to cook so…I just thought…”You stumbled over your words. You could feel his eyes on you. You noticed a small, genuine smile forming on his lips. You have landed on one of the topics he admits pride in.

“Well, I do work as a bartender in the tavern at times, naturally I will need to be able to cook.”

A soft warmth formed in your chest as you smiled back. Finishing off the delicious plate of the juicy meat, you blinked in surprise as he offered you a pack of dried sunsettias and apples.

“The journey will be long. Please be safe on your travels.”

Huh. You always had the impression that he was cold and aloof, but Diluc seemed different than what you have seen in the game.

“Uhm, thank you for everything you have done. I will pay it back some day!” You bowed before turning towards the path leading out of Dawn Winery.  

“Uh…Uhmm….” You murmured in growing panic. Solaria had forgotten to pack a map! You were incredibly lost. A boy with white hair bolted past as you heard the sound of gibberish following behind him. You had a bad feeling about this.

“…Uh oh.”

You looked back. A group of very angry Hilichurls were running towards you and the boy.

“UH OH!”

You sprinted in the direction of the boy but you soon found yourself face-to-face with a cliff. The boy was nowhere to be seen.

You had to fight.

You turned around, grabbing an arrow that flew past your face. Everything seemed slower than you thought it would be.

Gritting your teeth, you pushed your arms in front of you. Your eyes shut themselves tightly as you willed for the area around you to freeze over. The screams of the Hilichurls stopped as you felt the icy winds against your cheek.

Cautiously, you opened your eyes to see them frozen solid. You walked up, tapping the ice with your knuckles.

It was as if they were made out of ice rather than being flash-frozen.

Whatever had happened, you were certain that you would be safe. Looking around, you noticed a blob of white hair in the bush near you.

“You alright there?” You called out. The boy poked his head out of the bush.

“A…Are they gone -AH!” The boy jumped as he saw the Hilichurls’ angry expressions before realizing that they are frozen solid.

“It should be safe and anyways, what is the use of a sword if you don’t use it to defend yourself?” You sighed, noticing a sword strapped to his side.

“They kind of caught me off-guard…” His expression of guilt made you feel bad as you awkwardly patted his head.

He reminded you of a little brother.

“What’s your name?” You asked as you took in the familiar garb he was wearing.

“I’m Bennett! I had a commission to retrieve treasure from the Hilichurls but…well…”He stole a glance at the Hilichurls, who remained frozen solid in their spots.

“I’m (Y/N) but I got lost…I forgot to pack in a map…” You sighed, scratching the back of your head awkwardly.

“Oh! I can help with that!”

Bennet fished out a crumpled piece of paper. It was a map! You were saved!

But just as you were about to thank Artem for his kindness, an arrow ripped through the middle.

The Hilichurls you froze over must have melted as you heard their angered screaming.

“Oh for f-“

Bennett drew his sword. You were familiar with his skill in the game as you saw him charging energy into his sword. Raising your hand, you willed for your power to protect him as he swung his sword. Flames rose as he struck down the Shield Hilichurl.

“Huh?” Bennett was confused when he realized he was not sent flying.

“Focus, Bennett, focus!” You yelled as you blasted the Hilichurls away from him. As much as you hated how his unluckiness seemed contagious, you did not want him to be hurt.

“Thanks!” Bennett beamed at you as he slashed down the Hilichurls. That seemed to be last of them as you finished off the Shield Hilichurl.

“Wow, thanks for saving me back there. Seriously, I owe you one.” Bennett made his gratitude known, thanking you profusely.  You sighed as you sat down on the grass.

Bennett took out the torn map and looked extremely sheepish.

“Don’t suppose you have an extra one?” You sighed again. Bennett shook his head in response.

“Hey, are you two okay? I just saw the bodies of the Hilichurls and I came by to investigate- Oh hey Bennett!” A girl’s voice greeted you both.

“Hey Amber! Yeah, I kinda got into a fight with them but she saved me!” Bennett excitedly introduced you to the Outrider.

“She’s uh…What’s your name again?”

“I’m (Y/N) and I’m trying to get to Liyue but I got lost. Bennett was showing me his map until they ripped it. Don’t suppose you have an extra in your pockets?” You wiped off the sweat as you stood up to greet Amber.

“Oh! I can help with that!” Amber gave you a neatly folded piece of paper.

“Please take care on your travels then. There is a rise in Hilichurl sightings in the area.” Amber saluted.

“Don’t suppose you’d like to join Bennett’s Adventure Team?” Bennett gave you a puppy-eyed dog look.

“Uhm…Well, I really need to make my way to Liyue…Unless you’d want to come with me and abandon everything you have here…”Bennett’s face fell. You instantly felt bad for the poor adventurer. You knew it was a tall order for you to ask him to come along. 

“Hey hey…I’ll be back soon. We can do more adventuring once I fulfil my mission, okay?” You smiled at Bennett, who brightened at your promise.

‘If I am still alive, afterwards,’ A dark thought flashed through your head.

Waving good bye to the two, you continued on your path, leaving Mondstadt behind.

Meanwhile

Diluc’s servant gulped as he approached a small cottage in the bamboo forest. Knocking the wooden door, he cleared his throat.

“Diluc sends his regards.” The door immediately opened to reveal a girl with dark brown hair.

“Oho! Finally! He calls! Did he happen to include an engagement ring by any chance?”

“U-Uh no, just this letter-“

“Oh how boring.” The door slammed shut.

“He includes payment with this letter.”

“Why didn’t you say so earlier?” The door swung open again. The girl swiped off the bag of mora the servant had prepared and wax-sealed letter smoothly.

Ripping the letter open, the girl scanned its contents carefully.

“As straightforward as always. Thanks for your hard work, I guess.” Waving off the servant casually, the girl smiled to herself.

“A recon mission for a stranger in red and black, huh? Well, well, well. Time to dust off the old umbrella.”

[tooruluv]

Kozume Kenma x F!Reader x Tetsurou Kuroo ( part 1 )

❝ i’m right here, when are you going to realize that i’m your cure, heartbreak girl? ❞

description: kozume kenma didn’t know the exact day in which he realized that he was in love with you. he knew very well that it was sometime after your first “hello”, but the exact moment got whisked away in the many memories that included you. the problem was, though, that you were in love with and in a serious relationship with the boy he claimed as a best friend.

genre: angst, pining, unrequited love, (characters are aged up as the story continues)

word count: 2,373

warnings/notes: hey all! this one doesn’t really have any warnings, just strong language and lots of angst. i changed up my writing style just a bit for this one, and i’m quite proud of it so please leave me as much feedback as possible!! let’s start another journey, this time with kuroo and kenma ;)

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masterlist

“ i’m right here, when are you going to realize? ”

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Kozume Kenma couldn’t pinpoint the exact day in which he realized that he was eminently in love with you. He knew very well that it was sometime after your first “hello”, but the exact moment got whisked away in the many memories that included you.

The problem was, though, that you were eminently in love with and in a serious relationship with the boy he claimed as a best friend.

The first day that Kenma met you, he had to take several seconds to process. You were the only person, the only girl, that made him have to catch his breath at the mere sight. You were brighter than the sun, shined blue like the moon. You were stunning. 

And you had your arm wrapped around Tetsurou Kuroo’s.

“Kenma!” Kuroo had called from across the room, waving at his friend. Kenma complied, phone in hand and moving through the crowds without so much as lifting an eye.

Kenma was dragged to a party with the volleyball team. It isn’t that he hated people, nor was he shy. He just didn’t see the point in pretending to enjoy something that wasn’t his thing. He never understood the desire most teens had in wanting to do stupid things and interact all of the time. It sounded exhausting. 

“Kenma, this is my girlfriend.” Kuroo introduced you. And Kenma looked up to meet your eyes.

“Hello!” You greeted with a smile. You had to talk a bit louder than normal over the party’s music. “I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m glad we finally get to meet!”

“Same.” was Kenma’s reply. Though he wanted to say more. 

As Kuroo continued to talk to the both of you, Kenma couldn’t help but watch you from his peripheral vision. You were, in simple terms, the most beautiful person he had ever met. How you managed to be so utterly taken with Kuroo he would never understand. 

You kept one hand on Kuroo’s arm the entire time. Kenma could only define his feelings as jealousy.

Of course, he pushed those feelings down. Because he couldn’t possibly be in love at first sight. To his best friend’s girlfriend, of all people. No. Absolutely not.

When Kenma retreated to a corner of the house later that night, it was you who found him and sat beside him on the floor. He looked up from his game.

“Don’t stop on my account.” You told him, pulling out your phone. “Not one for parties?”

“Never have been.” He brought his head further down to shield his face with his hair. “I’m always dragged here by the team.”

“Yeah, I’m only here to meet Kuroo’s friends.” You admitted. He didn’t know if it was true or if it was a way to initiate conversation to get on his good side for your boyfriend. Either way, he turned his head to catch your (beautiful) eye. “But he decided that trying to beat Bokuto at the keg is his mission for the night.” 

“Ah.”

With that, the both of you became closer. You met up with them at lunch, called him over discord to play games while both of you were at home. And Kenma felt himself falling harder and harder.

Oh, and he became your shoulder to cry on.

Because Tetsurou Kuroo might’ve been an amazing guy, a great team leader and captain, and an incredible friend; but he was a terrible boyfriend.

You were his first girlfriend, so there was room for learning and growth and improvement. But there were also faults in trying to build something that had no foundation.

A couple of months passed, and the honeymoon stage had come to an end, was the first fight.

The reason behind the fight was long forgotten by now, but it had to do with communication. A joke turned into seriousness that it hadn’t meant to be, and it ended in a heated argument between you both. He had ended up calling you an awful name, so you left. 

Kuroo called after you, instant regret and apologies rushing off of his lips, but you were already gone. 

You ended up at Kenma’s. You knocked on his door with tears in your eyes and on your cheeks. How could he have said no?

With a small voice, you asked, “Can we just play games, please?”

“Of course.” Kenma replied without asking anything else. 

He sat on his bed and you sat in a beanbag as you played a game on his TV. He didn’t say anything when he watched you cry silent tears. Instead, he handed you a juice and bag of chips. 

You accepted, pretending that there weren’t tears streaming down your red face. Because he knew you, and knew that if you didn’t want to talk about it, he wouldn’t pressure you to. 

“Mario Kart?” He offered. 

“Oh, you want to lose?” You quipped. A quirk in the corner of your lips. 

Even a small smile from you made him feel better. And fall harder. 

When you returned home that night, Kuroo stood in the exact spot you had left him in. He immediately sent you a thousand apologies, voice choked. You forgave him before he even spoke 

All relationships are rollercoasters, to say the very least. They have their ups and downs, their fast and slow parts, their beginning and end. Your relationship with Kuroo was definitely one of twists and turns. 

Kenma sat on the sidelines and watched it all with a knot in his stomach. He held it down, further and further with each passing day.

Immediately after one intense game that they inevitably won, Kenma searched for you. You rushed from the crowd and into your boyfriend’s arms, congratulating him and giving him a kiss on the cheek. Kenma wondered if the two of you had kissed at that point, you had been together for a month. He had to stop himself from going down that rabbit hole. 

It was when you turned to him that Kenma’s entire world was put on pause. You were the only thing that could move. 

“Congrats Kenma!” You cheered, bringing him in for a hug. Kuroo chuckled beside you as Kenma just stood with his arms at his sides, completely paralyzed. “You were amazing! What the fuck! That last play…”

Your voice was drowned out. You pulled away to talk more about how great he did during the game. But he couldn’t listen to the praise coming from your tongue. He just couldn’t.

Once you were out of earshot, Kuroo turned to him. With a big dorky smile on his face, Kuroo asked, “She’s the best, isn’t she?”

“Sure.” Kenma replied, but he wanted to go on and on.

Becoming very good friends with Kozume Kenma resulted in a lot of third wheeling. Not that you would ever intentionally exclude him. In fact, you tried to make sure that he was a part of everything the two of you did. Even if it was just something as little as an invite.

The third wheeling mainly consisted of Kenma’s aching heart as he endured the presence of the two of you. Every time that he would catch a glimpse of your hand in Kuroo’s, or Kuroo’s hand on your thigh, or a quick kiss on the cheek, Kenma couldn’t help but wish that it was him instead.

Kuroo caught him staring, once.

He was dragged to a bonfire with the team, and he dreaded every second of it. He never understood why people would enjoy sitting around a fire and being eaten by bugs. He also didn’t like marshmallows.

You were sitting on Kuroo’s lap on a lawn chair, legs draped over his and your body curved into his side. Kenma couldn’t help but watch as he said something into your hair and you laughed, smacking Kuroo’s chest.

Kuroo found Kenma’s gaze. He sent him an oblivious smile and waved him over, thinking that Kenma was feeling awkward about sitting on the sidelines. Oh, how close he had been to the truth.

“Hey, Pudding Head.” Kuroo teased. “How are you doing?”

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” You asked. You looked up from your position on his lap, and Kenma thought of a million things at once.

“Yeah.”

Kuroo offered the seat beside him, and Kenma accepted. Kuroo knew him better than anyone, this was something that he knew for certain. He wondered if his feelings for you had been obvious. Kuroo never brought it up.

The rest of the night consisted of Kenma pretending to not be affected by your whispering and giggling with his best friend.

Kozume Kenma remembers one specific moment of his love more vividly than the rest.

You were at his house, hanging out on a day off. There were no tears, no anger or sadness towards your boyfriend. It was just a good time with just the two of you. Kuroo had something with his family, so he wasn’t present.

He didn’t remember exactly how the two of you ended up in this position, but he would not complain.

Your head laid in Kenma’s lap, hair fanned out along his thighs. You were watching him beat this game he just got, eyes focused on the screen. Kenma sat against the wall on his bed, arms on either side of your head with his controller in his hand in his best attempt to not touch you.

“Why don’t you like to touch me?” you asked him.

The question caught him off guard, and he had to hide the surprise on his face. “Hm?”

“Don’t pretend I haven’t noticed.” You shifted to look up at him. Kenma had to adjust his legs to hide something he didn’t think you wanted to see. “I figured that you might be a germaphobe or something, because you always seem to keep your distance or freeze up when I grab your wrist or hug you. But I don’t think you are one, considering you play volleyball with a bunch of sweaty men.”

“I. Um.” Kenma paused the game and looked down at you. Searching for excuses, racking his brain for any fake plausible answer that he could give you instead of I’m pretty sure that I’m in love with you and every time that the two of us make contact I feel like a firework about to explode (and it goes straight to a different part of me that I do not wish to discuss with literally anyone). Because that would go over well. 

With the little thoughts he could muster, he lied, “I’m not used to girls voluntarily touching me.”

You accepted his answer, nodding with your head still against his thighs. He looked down to see that you were already staring back up at him. “What?”

“I was just wondering why girls weren’t throwing themselves over you.” You sent him a smile. He wanted to die. “You’re a catch. I promise I’ll be more careful if me touching you makes you uncomfortable.”

“It doesn’t.” Kenma quickly added. Maybe a little too quickly. “This,” he gestured to the current position the two of you laid in. “This doesn’t make me uncomfortable. I guess some things just take time.”

You smiled at him again. That stupid, gorgeous smile. “One day you’ll be so comfortable with me that you won’t even notice if I kiss you.”

The world was testing him. The gods were playing a game with him. He returned his attention to the game, hoping he wouldn’t collapse on the spot.

One night, around half a year into your relationship, Kenma received a call at the asscrack of dawn. Groggily, he answered without looking at the caller.

“Hello?” He asked, voice heavy in sleep. Who would call him at this time? On a school night, no less.

“Kenma.” His ears perked up at your voice. He sat up. “Kenma, please give me some advice.”

It was the first time that you had ever wanted to talk about a fight. True, it was only the third time, but it meant the world to him that you wanted to talk about it. Even if the sun wasn’t even up yet and he had several hours left to sleep.

“What happened?”

A sniff. He was going to kick Kuroo’s head, he decided.

“I just… how do you deal with someone who refuses to talk to you?” You paused, as if you were trying to put together your words. Kenma waited. “Kuroo is great most of the time, but he leaves me hanging so much. I can go the entire weekend without so much as a text. And today something had happened, I knew it the second I saw the look on his face. But he just won’t talk to me. And today,” Another sniff. “Today, I brought it up and he was really dismissive and told me that I didn’t need to be so clingy. Clingy.”

Kenma had to stop himself from saying something like, if you were with me I would love it if you were clingy.

“Kuroo’s an idiot.” Kenma told you. “He doesn’t know how to talk about things that he actually needs to talk about. Next time you talk to him, tell him how his actions make you feel rather than what he needs to change. You’ll get into his brain easier, it’ll click with him.”

You paused again. Taking his words in. “Thank you. Thanks for being a friend.”

“Of course.”

Friend. Because that was all he would be, all that he could be.

[hysterialevi]

Hjarta | Chapter 20

Fanfic summary: In an AU where Eivor was adopted by Randvi’s family instead, he ends up falling in love with the man his sister has been promised to despite the arranged marriage between their clans.

Point of view: third-person

Pairing: Sigurd Styrbjornson x Male Eivor

This story is also on AO3 | Previous chapter | Next chapter

THE WAR ROOM

Carefully unrolling the parchment in his hands, Arngeir spread a large weathered map across the table as his companions took their place in the war room, ready to discuss the upcoming assault. Sigurd, Styrbjorn, and Eivor all waited patiently in silence, watching the jarl finish his preparations as they filled their predecessors’ roles.

It felt strange to Eivor, seeing Sigurd standing in Ulfar’s position. Even though he knew the old raider wasn’t coming back from the dead, it still made his head spin to see someone else in his shoes. It was no more than a simple changing of the guard, and yet, to the Wolf-Kissed, it felt like witnessing his entire world shift.

Though, he had to admit, there was something about the king that caught his attention too. He couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was, but Styrbjorn seemed... different today. More... composed. Dignified. As if the life in him had suddenly been reignited. His appearance radiated a noble presence, and his expression looked free of the fatigue that so stubbornly clung onto his eyes. Eivor guessed he finally took Sigurd’s advice to heart.

“Alright,” the jarl said, grabbing everyone’s attention. “We’re all here. Good.” He stepped forward a bit, resting his palms on the table’s surface. “Now, I understand that you’re eager to put this battle in motion, but before we start devising a plan, I believe the king has something he wants to say first.”

“Indeed,” Styrbjorn replied, linking his hands behind his back. “I have declared Gorm’s judgement, and I thought it would be necessary to inform the rest of you.”

That caught Eivor’s interest. “What’s to become of our prisoner, my lord?”

“For now, I’ve made the decision to keep Gorm alive. He has knowledge about Kjotve that could prove to be useful later on, so I will not dispose of him just yet. Once this war is finished, however...” the king exchanged glances with the prince, “...he will be executed. Publicly. Sigurd and I have agreed to grant him a merciful death as repayment for his cooperation, but he is to be beheaded on Bjornheimr soil.”

Arngeir paused. “Bjornheimr? Does this mean you won’t be taking Gorm back to Fornburg, my lord? Normally, when the king passes judgement on a criminal, it is he who swings the axe.”

“True, but seeing as how Gorm wronged your people more than anyone else, I’ve decided to leave his fate in your hands. It seems only fitting to me.”

The jarl was satisfied with that. “...Very well. I agree to these terms.”

“Then it’s settled. Gorm will be kept here as our prisoner for the remainder of the war. As soon as his father is killed, he will follow in his footsteps. Are we clear?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Good. Then I won’t hinder this plan’s development any further.” Styrbjorn turned to his son. “Sigurd, you said you had new information pertaining to Kjotve’s whereabouts?”

“I do.” the prince confirmed. He walked up to the war table and leaned over it, pointing to an island on the western side of the map.

“According to what Gorm told me, Kjotve should have arrived on an island by now known as Thrymr’s Tomb. He’ll be making use of an abandoned fort located in its northern half.”

Eivor took note of the island’s name. “Thrymr? King of the jötnar? Is there a reason for that name?”

“Ah, it’s connected to a local tale, nothing more. Due to the island’s peculiar shape, the folk in that region believe it was once a fragment of Thrymr’s skull. They say it flew off his head when Thor struck him with Mjölnir, and landed in the ocean. Thus, its name.”

“And what of Kjotve’s defenses?” Arngeir asked. “What can we expect when we arrive?”

“The fort itself was built a long time ago, so its defenses should be nothing that we haven’t seen already. Plus, it’s been deserted for ages now. Its walls are feeble and decrepit. We should be able to break through the gates rather swiftly. The biggest challenge we’ll face -- is reaching them.”

“Why is that?”

Sigurd slid his finger down the map. “Because the island has no trees.”

That took everyone by surprise.

“What?” Styrbjorn blurted out. “How can that be?”

“Whoever the fort’s original occupant was, they chopped down all the trees on the island so that their foes wouldn’t have anywhere to hide. This means we’ll have no cover, and no way to approach it discreetly. We’ll be forced to launch a head-on assault.”

Eivor began growing concerned. “And how simple do you think that’s going to be?”

Sigurd furrowed his brow. “I won’t lie to you all. It’s not going to be easy. There’s a river that separates the island into two halves. The fort is on the northern half. We’ll be on the southern half. And the only way to reach the gates... is by crossing the bridge.”

Arngeir paced around the room, stroking his beard in thought. “The bridge will have us all cornered into one spot. We’ll be nothing but walking targets for Kjotve’s archers. They’ll slaughter us before we can even knock on his front door...!”

The Wolf-Kissed wasn’t so sure. “...Maybe. Or maybe there’s something else we could do.”

Sigurd’s curiosity took hold. “You have an idea, Eivor?”

The younger man thought for a moment. “...What if we formed a shield wall? We could protect ourselves from oncoming arrows, and move forward during the time between the onslaughts. It would be slow, but much safer than charging to the gate.”

“A solid idea,” the prince conceded, “but how would it work in this case? Don’t forget, we still need a way to break down the gate. How could we transport a battering ram across the bridge, and maintain a shield wall at the same time?”

“We could create a wall around the ram.” Eivor suggested.

“Around it?”

“Yes. As you said, we’ll need to bring a battering ram in order to get through the gates. But if our men are going to be moving something as big as that, they won’t have any hands free to lift a shield. So that’s why... we’ll protect them in the process. We’ll form a shield wall around them, and keep them safe from any arrows.”

Sigurd played out the method in his head. “...Hmm. It’s damned risky, but I’m afraid it’s the only option we have. The battlements are too tall for us too climb, and there’s no way we could cross the river by foot. We could swim, theoretically speaking, but it’s such a dangerous path that it’s not even worth considering.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Well, first of all, it’s freezing. The water would probably kill us before Kjotve could. And secondly, the river’s current is so strong that we would most likely be whisked away, or even drowned. Trust me, we’re better off taking our chances with the bridge.”

“Hm. Makes sense.”

The king posed another question. “Alright. So we’ve decided on a way in? We’ll dock our ships on the southern half of the island, and cross the bridge using a shield wall. In the meantime, the rest of our warriors will focus on moving the battering ram to the fort’s gates. Is that correct?”

“Yes.” Sigurd confirmed.

“Very well, then. What happens once we’re inside?”

“Then, we find Kjotve. And put an end to this miserable war.”

Eivor felt a sense of worry flare in his chest. “But what if he escapes a second time? What guarantee do we have that he won’t flee again?”

A grim look hovered over the prince’s gaze. “Our guarantee is Dag’s death. He was Kjotve’s ally, and the reason our previous assault ended in failure. He told the man to flee before we could reach his shores, but this time, he won’t be around to warn anybody.”

Arngeir raised a point. “Of course, however, it is worth nothing that Kjotve might have taken precautions already. After all, I think it’s safe to say he’s probably aware of Gorm’s imprisonment by now. He will be anticipating an assault, now that his own son has been subjected to interrogation.

“Indeed,” Sigurd conceded. “So we’d do well not to let our guard down, no matter how much of an advantage we have.”

Eivor was pleased with that. “Sounds good.”

Styrbjorn jumped back in. “Then, have we agreed on a plan? I believe our current strategy will be our best option, and unlike other battles, we won’t have much time to adjust it. So if anyone has any concerns or objections, now is the time to speak up.”

There was a unanimous silence.

“Very well. I will inform my clan of our discussion today, and prepare them for the battle ahead.” The king turned to the jarl. “Arngeir, I think it’s best if you do the same.”

The other man displayed a slight bow. “Of course, my lord. I’ll start making preparations right away.”

“As for you two,” Styrbjorn faced Eivor and Sigurd, “try to get some rest. Both of you will have a long day tomorrow. The journey to Thrymr’s Tomb will take quite some time, and there’s no saying what will happen during the fight itself. I need you to be sharp.”

The prince nodded assuredly. “Understood.”

“Good. Then this meeting is concluded. Take care of any unfinished business you may have, and prepare yourselves for war. This will be the battle that shapes the future of the entire kingdom. Defeat is something we cannot afford. Stay vigilant. All of you.”

Stepping away from the map, both Styrbjorn and Arngeir made a swift exit from the war room as they headed out to the village, determined to turn their plan into a reality. The torches’ flames flickered in their wake as they strode through the archway, and settled down with a series of soft quivers once they were gone.

In the meantime, Sigurd and Eivor remained at the war table and simply stood there in silence, drowning in the sea of worries that plagued their thoughts. Both of them had plenty of risks to consider in the upcoming battle, but one fear in particular kept shaking the prince’s mettle. 

“I can’t believe it...” Eivor whispered, staring at the map, “...after all these years. After everything we’ve lost. We finally have a chance to take Kjotve down for good. We have his son as a prisoner, and he no longer has any allies amongst our people.” An inspiring spark glimmered in his eye. “What if this is it, Sigurd? This could be the victory we’ve been waiting for.”

The older man crossed his arms. “...Perhaps.”

It didn’t take long for Eivor to pick up on his tone. “Is... something wrong, Sigurd?

The prince leaned against a wall and sighed, unable to conceal the sorrow he carried.

“...You do understand that if everything goes according to plan tomorrow, and Kjotve dies, my clan will leave Bjornheimr permanently?”

The realization struck Eivor like a club, and he found himself quickly being drained of the hope that had just settled in.

“...Oh.” He murmured. “Right.”

Sigurd gave him an apologetic look. “Forgive me, love. I know it’s an unpleasant thought, but it’s the reality. If we win this war, I’ll return to Fornburg... forever. And I don’t know when I’ll get the chance to come back.”

Eivor shrugged. “So, what are you saying? You don’t want us to win?”

“No, of course not. It’s just...” the prince pushed himself off the wall, “...I’m going to miss you dearly, Eivor. It’ll be difficult adapting to a life without you.”

The younger man’s head drooped. “...I understand. I’ll miss you too.”

Sigurd approached his partner. “My offer still stands, you know. There’s a place for you on my longship if you wish to join us. You’re more than welcome.”

Eivor drifted off into silence for a moment, pondering the decision.

“As much as I’d love to go with you, I don’t know if I can.”

“You don’t know if you can? What do you mean?”

The Wolf-Kissed glanced upward at his companion. “Don’t forget, Sigurd, you’re still a married man. Up until this point, it’s been easy for us to hide our relationship since everyone’s been so focused on the war. But the minute it comes to an end... their attention will be back on you. And if someone finds out...”

Sigurd took Eivor’s hands into his own. “They won’t. We would just be friends in the public eye. And even then, we could do so many things together -- hunting, fishing, sailing, drinking, you name it. I could show you around Fornburg, take you to places unlike anything you’d ever seen; places where we’d be alone. No one would suspect a thing.”

“Are you sure? No one would find it odd that, in addition to your new wife, you also decided to bring her brother? Think about this, Sigurd.”

“I have,” the prince insisted, “and I want you at my side, Eivor. I love you. You know this. Damn what anyone else says.”

Eivor let out a breath. “I love you too, but...” he pushed Sigurd’s hands away, “...I. Just. Can’t. I’m sorry.”

The older man grew concerned. “Why not, though? You and I have been hiding this for weeks already. This is nothing new. Is there something else that’s bothering you?”

The Wolf-Kissed let his gaze sink to the floor, feeling terribly guilty about the heartache he was causing his partner.

“I wouldn’t be able to handle the pain, Sigurd.”

The response earned him a puzzled look. “Pain? What pain?”

“The pain of seeing you with someone else. You and I may be lovers in private, but to everyone else, we’d have to be friends. You’d have to maintain your image as husband-and-wife with Randvi, and I’d be forced to watch it from the side. I don’t know if I could handle that, Sigurd.”

A shadow of harsh understanding dimmed the prince’s passion, and he finally began to realize the source of his lover’s hesitance.

“...Ah. I see.”

“And besides,” Eivor continued, “I can’t leave my father behind. He’s already lost Thora to this war. If he had to say goodbye to me and Randvi as well, I don’t think he...”

“It’s okay, Eivor.” Sigurd reassured, in spite of his disappointment. “You don’t have to explain. I... understand.”

“You do?”

“Yes. I may not be happy with it, but I understand. I can’t ask you to keep this charade going forever, especially amongst a clan you’ve never known. It... wouldn’t be fair. And you have a father here who needs you. I can’t take you away from him. No matter how much I may want you.”

Eivor felt a tad more relieved. “...Thank you, Sigurd. I know it’s not the outcome either of us were hoping for, but it’s what we’ll have to live with once this war is over. If we survive long enough to see it through, that is.”

Sigurd stepped back a bit, allowing his companion some space. “...Of course. You’re right. This war is bigger than the both of us. We’ll need to prioritize our duties above all else if we’re going to make this alliance work.”

He paused for a short while, attempting to distract himself from the disheartening news. It was clear that he was trying to prevent his emotions from breaking through the surface, but even then, Eivor could see that the man was heartbroken.

“...Anyway,” Sigurd said, clearing his throat, “I should get going. There are many things I need to take care of before we set off. I’ll be in my chambers if you need me.”

“And I’ll be at the temple if you need me.”

The prince found himself intrigued. “The temple? Are you planning on making an offering?”

“Not exactly. There’s someone I wanted to speak with before the battle. I saw them praying at the temple earlier while I was walking to the longhouse.”

“Who, Ingrida?”

Eivor shook his head. “No. Randvi.”

The answer took Sigurd by surprise. “Randvi?”

“Yes,” he replied in remorse. “I haven’t been a good brother to her lately. I’ve practically deserted her ever since your clan arrived. I didn’t even talk to her after Thora died. She’s been dealing with all this grief in complete solitude, and I want to make sure she’s okay.”

Sigurd nodded empathetically. “Of course. Go. See your sister. You and I can talk later.”

“Take care of yourself tomorrow, love.” Eivor said, caressing the man’s cheek before he took his leave. “I don’t want to return home without you.”

The prince gripped his hand securely, looking him straight in the eye. “I won’t let myself fall to Kjotve’s axe. I promise.”

~~~~~~~~~~

LATER THAT DAY

THE TEMPLE

Pushing through the hills of snow that lounged on the earthy terrain, Eivor sauntered towards the temple as a gust of wind fluttered across the land, shaking the chimes that lined the path. A series of scattered clinks decorated the air in the breeze’s wake, and up ahead, Eivor could see the statues of the gods rising into view.

They remained as adamant as ever, despite the mayhem thriving around them. They guarded the village with an unwavering iron gaze, and towered over the worshippers who knelt at the base of their feet.

It was a sight that would’ve brought Eivor a sense of peace in the past. He often came here when he needed guidance from the gods, or comfort from the seeress’ words, but now... all he could think about were the sacrifices they’d made.

Thora, Ulfar, Eirik, Dag... the list grew longer everyday. Their village seemed to be occupied by more ghosts than people at this point, and returning to the temple did nothing but remind Eivor of the times when he had the luxury of taking his loved ones’ company for granted.

What if this was the last time he’d ever see Bjornheimr? What if something happened tomorrow? He was hopeful that he’d finally be able to corner Kjotve after this insufferable chase, but really, he had no guarantee.

It was entirely possible that Eivor could’ve ended up sharing his father’s fate once this war was over. There was nothing else to secure their victory other than the sheer will of their raiders, and ultimately, he had to remind himself that he was just another man.

If Eivor fell tomorrow... there was no coming back. He’d simply be gone forever, and his soul would be taken by whichever god claimed him first.

His legacy in this world would be no more than a warrior who died chasing an impossible dream, and to the Wolf-Kissed, that was a fate far more frightening than death. A fate where he would only be remembered for his failures.

“Randvi?” Eivor called out, searching for his sister. He got no response from the woman in the moments to follow, but eventually found her sitting on a bench positioned before Freya’s statue. Her head was hanging low between her shoulders like an anchor, and her elbows rested gently on her knees.

“Randvi.” Eivor repeated, trying to get her attention.

Still, she offered no answer.

“Hey,” the young man said again, kneeling in front of her. “It’s me. Eivor.”

Randvi’s stone-cold stare inched towards his face at the sound of his name, revealing nothing but a pair of dead orbs sitting in her sockets. 

She looked even worse than Arngeir did. Despite his grief, the jarl still seemed to have some fight in him at least. It may have been an act to preserve his clans morale, but even then, he had proven he was capable of leading a battle. Randvi, on the other hand, appeared as if she had joined Thora’s side already.

Her temperament was entirely devoid of any signs of life. She sat on the bench like a frail plant withering in the sun, and the way she peered through Eivor made him wonder if she truly knew he was even there.

“...We should’ve listened to her.” Randvi whispered at last.

Her brother shook his head in confusion. “What? What are you talking about?”

“We should’ve listened to her. She knew all of this would happen.”

Eivor glanced back at the temple. “...You mean Ingrida?”

“Yes. Do you not remember? The day the Raven Clan arrived, she warned us of a vision. Freya’s statue had just fallen, and the gods entrusted her with a dream of the path ahead. A dream of Tyr.” Randvi frowned. “...Ingrida told us about the treachery we’d face. She told us to turn the Raven Clan away, but we refused to listen. We dismissed her fears because we didn’t want to insult King Styrbjorn. And now look where we are.”

She gazed upwards at Freya’s idol. “...What if we had called off the alliance? What if we never went through with this marriage? Would we still be where we are now? Would Thora and Ulfar be alive?”

Eivor took a seat beside Randvi, sharing her anguish. “I don’t know, sister. I really don’t. The gods have been difficult to predict lately.”

The woman scoffed. “Forget the gods. Our prayers have proven to be all but useless. Thora and Ulfar both spent their entire lives following a code of honor, and yet, the Nornir still let them die. Meanwhile, men like Kjotve get to roam free, causing nothing but suffering and death everywhere they go. As far as I’m concerned, I’d be a fool to rely on the gods for protection. I don’t need them. What I need is you.”

Randvi turned to her brother. “Where have you been, Eivor? These past few weeks, you’ve made yourself scarce. I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages. I understand we’re in the middle of a war, but...”

Eivor’s tone sunk with guilt. “...I know, Randvi. I know I haven’t been a good brother to you.” He paused for a second. “I’m... I’m sorry.”

A fatigued breath escaped from the woman’s lips. “Well, to be honest, you aren’t the only one who’s deserted me. It seems like all my friends have either died or disappeared. You, Sigurd, Thora, Ulfar... even father keeps to himself these days. The only company I really have anymore is Ingrida, and she’s almost gone completely mute ever since Eirik’s death.”

Randvi stood up from the bench and crossed her arms in thought, taking in the view of Freya’s statue.

“I just miss Thora so much. I see her in my dreams every night. She was always there for you and me, keeping us safe in a world that wanted to leave us behind. She knew how to make people laugh too.” Randvi’s shoulders slouched. “...And Ulfar. I’ll never forget the times when he held me as a child, calming me down after I woke up from a nightmare. He may not have been our real father, but I loved him like one.”

Eivor nodded. “Me too. He was always there to keep me company after Kjotve killed my parents. I can’t imagine what my childhood would’ve been like without him.”

Randvi peered at the clouds gliding above the temple, almost as if she were looking into Valhalla itself.

“I suppose the best thing we can do for them now is to make sure that their deaths weren’t in vain. Knowing Thora and Ulfar, they wouldn’t have wanted us to be consumed by our grief. They would’ve wanted us to push on, no matter the cost. I just wish it were that easy.”

Eivor rose to his feet, joining stepping next to his sister. “It won’t be. But we’re so close to the end, Randvi. Just one more battle, and we can finally put all this tragedy to rest. We only need to fight for a little longer.”

The woman didn’t appear reassured by that. “That’s easy for you to say. If we win, you’ll get to go back home and celebrate your victory. But me? I’ll be forced to travel to Fornburg with Sigurd, and live in a clan full of unfamiliar faces. I’ll have to start an entirely new life far away from here, and spend the rest of it with a husband who hardly even cares about me.”

Randvi shut her eyes in frustration and took a deep breath, attempting to ease her nerves. A bottle of boiling rage sat corked in her chest, and without even meaning to, she had smashed it open due to seeing Eivor’s face again. 

He was one of the only people she trusted, after all. With her older sister gone, Randvi no longer knew who she could confide in. She had kept all this pain locked inside her mind, and until now, she never realized how severely it was hindering her.

“...I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to be so curt. I’m sure you have your own burdens to bear. I just don’t know what to do anymore.”

“No, I understand,” Eivor assured. “The stress of this war has taken a toll on all of us. And let’s face it -- I haven’t exactly done my job as a brother. I should’ve checked on you more often.”

Randvi shrugged in curiosity. “Is that why you came today? Because you wanted to see me?”

“Yes, actually. I saw you while I was walking to the longhouse. I was occupied with matters concerning tomorrow’s battle, but I still wanted to speak with you.”

A hint of warmth radiated from the woman’s gaze. It was clear that Randvi was surprised by the gesture, but grateful for it nonetheless.

“...Thank you, Eivor. Even though you and I haven’t spoken much recently, I am glad to see you again. I missed having your company.”

A loving grin spread across the man’s face. “I missed you too.���

Randvi slowly approached Eivor, placing her hands on the sides of his arms. “Please, be careful tomorrow, brother. I know you aren’t the type to sit by and watch a battle unfold, but it’s been difficult enough dealing with Thora’s death. Don’t make me bury you too.”

He held Randvi’s hand in a comforting manner, speaking with sincerity.

“I’ll do everything in my power to return unharmed. But I can’t let Kjotve go.”

“I know. And I don’t expect you to. Just remember what matters. Even if you survive this war, losing yourself to revenge can be a death in itself. I don’t want to see that happen. Can you promise me it won’t?”

“Of course. You have my word.”

Randvi didn’t press any further than that. “...Then I suppose it’ll have to do for now. The thought of coming back home to your corpse terrifies me, but I understand how much Varin’s honor means to you. I won’t deny you that.”

“Thank you, Randvi.”

The woman stepped back from Eivor and turned towards the temple’s entrance, ready to get some rest before charging into the storm ahead. Her mood seemed to have lifted somewhat ever since her brother arrived at the temple, but the perturbed nature she carried made it evident that she wasn’t free from her fears just yet.

“Good luck, Eivor. Even though I have faith that you and I will see this war to its end, I’m aware that anything could happen. Fight well tomorrow. If I don’t get to bring you home... then I pray that the Valkyries will.”

[clonecest-bin-account]

300 followers bingo - Echo & Torrent | Supernatural AU

(In which Echo gets followed by some Torrent boys. I’m not sure this is exactly what the asker wanted, but I had fun with it!)

Sometimes, Echo wonders what exactly the Tech Union did to him, because he swears he feels some presences, though he can’t put a finger on what presences exactly. Maybe it’s just paranoia. Maybe he’s just tired.

Little does he know, however, that there is actually someone following him in each step of his life.

  The first one to join him is Fives.

 He was confused when, after dying, he woke up in a lab without knowing where he was or whom that lab belonged to. Was that some sort of punished Palpatine had bestowed on him? Was there anything he could do? Were there any chances that he could’ve gotten back to warn everyone?

His desperation grew once he found out exactly where he was and, more importantly, who he was bound to, and with desperation shame also came, because Echo was alive and he didn’t even know it, didn’t even save him.

He stood helplessly as he watched his brother being experimented on, he cried for help, tried to do something, but he couldn’t touch anything. That was worse than death.

  Things change when Rex finds Echo. First of all, good to know that at least Rex is still kicking, and also… Oh, someone’s following him as well.

“Hardcase?!” “Fives?!”

The two brothers run at each other, enveloping each other into a long hug - huh, so at least they can touch each other…

There are so many questions they both want to ask each other, so many things they want to say, but in the end their silence speaks louder than any word could. They’ve spent so much time alone that having found someone who can finally even just see them is overwhelming.

Eventually, however, Fives finds himself speaking again. “Hardcase, I’m so sorry--” but Hardcase raises a hand to placate him before he can finish.

“Fives, I knew what could’ve happened when I agreed to your plan,” he says. “At least I was gone in a blaze of glory…”

Those words manage to bring a small sad smile to Fives’ face. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right…”

 When Rex tells Echo about what happened to him, Fives wants to scream: he can see the sadness and desperation in Echo’s eyes, and he’d do anything to be able to reach him, to tell him that he’s fine - more or less - to console him, but no matter how hard he tries he can’t do it. Damn it all!

Hardcase holds him throughout this whole process. He’d say something, if only he didn’t know that it wouldn’t help; what could his words add? No, he prefers staying close, offering consolation - for once - in a more subtle manner.

At least Echo seems to pull through well, at least partially. After all, they don’t have time to grieve, not when they’re still in danger.

Yes, Echo, get out of there!

 Fives and Hardcase keep following Echo and Rex, watching as things unfold.

They can’t help but to cheer their brothers on as they keep fighting the good fight. It makes them almost forget that they’re unable to do anything apart from watching.

No, it feels like they’re actually there.

 Fives doesn’t know what to think when Echo decides to stick with the Bad Batch. It feels unexpected, but oh well, if this is what he believes is best for him…

“Well,” Hardcase says, distracting him from his thoughts. “I guess you’ll go your way and I’ll go mine now, right?”

“… Actually, I was thinking that maybe we could stick together,” Fives replies. “I don’t know about you, but this gets lonely pretty soon.”

“That’s true…” Hardcase mutters, though he finds himself in a dilemma: to follow the Captain or to follow his brother? On one hand, he’d feel bad about leaving Rex alone, on the other, just watching without being able to do anything, all alone, is terrible. At least if he goes with Echo, he’ll have Fives keeping him company - and he knows better than to ask him to do the opposite, to abandon Echo to go with Hardcase and Rex.

Well, the Captain is hardly alone, in the end. He could afford to go…

“Ok, let’s stick together,” he says then. He notices immediately how Fives smiles at his words, happy about the fact that he won’t be going through this lonely journey on his own anymore.

At least now he has someone he can talk to, right?

 Seeing Echo getting integrated into the Bad Batch makes Fives feel… well, not jealous, but definitely nostalgic. If only he were still alive…

Not to mention about the chips part, because that’s still something dangerous that is looming over all of them, except that only Fives is aware of it. Rex should be too, but he doesn’t seem to have taken his words seriously judging from what he saw.

He doesn’t want anything to happen to Echo, not now that he’s finally free, but how can he be certain that nothing will go wrong? No, things are about to change, he can feel it.

 Both he and Hardcase get the confirmation that things have gone to shit when Order 66 gets sent out.

They’re on Kamino, still following Echo wherever he goes, when it happens. At first Fives fears Echo’s going to succumb, but for some reason that he can’t pinpoint, but he’s grateful for them nonetheless, neither he nor the Bad Batch are changed by it.

Whatever the reason is, it’s enough to keep them from becoming meat droids, but it also puts them in danger.

 Again, all Fives and Hardcase can do is to follow Echo and cheer on him. They know he can’t hear them, but they do it anyway; besides, who knows, maybe he doesn’t hear them, but he might still feel something - in fact, something he almost looks aware of the fact that Fives and Hardcase are there, though he always dismisses it as a passing feeling.

It doesn’t matter, as long as he remains safe. Despite the fact that Fives would want nothing more than to be with Echo again, he’d also rather have him be alive as long as he can, so he’s willing to wait some more, no matter how frustrating and lonely it can get. At least he has Hardcase to keep him company, just as Hardcase has him.

  After Echo and the Bad Batch manage to find a ship to escape, they think that, at least for a while, they can metaphorically catch their breath, but they’re proven wrong when another ghost appears. Oh no…

 When Jesse opens his eyes, the first things he sees are his dead companions, which means that something must be wrong. What is happenin… Wait.

“Jesse?” Hardcase mutters, tentatively approaching the figure in front of him and Fives.

It’s like a switch has been flipped as Jesse breaks down, sobbing uncontrollably as his dead brothers try to console him. “I didn’t mean to! I’m sorry!” he keeps repeating over and over again, unable to stop.

 After he calms down a bit, he manages to tell what has happened to him, how he lost control of his body. So it really has started, huh?

“What about Rex?” Fives asks. Is he dead too?

“I think he’s fine…” Jesse mutters. “He did manage to escape with Ahsoka…”

Well, that would explain why there’s no Rex ghost hanging around. That’s one reassuring thing at least.

 “… What now?” Jesse asks. There’s pure desperation in his eyes. “What do we do now?”

Fives and Hardcase look at each other. Yeah, that’s something both of them have gone through on their own; exactly because they know how it feels they’re more than determined to help Jesse through it. Like hell they’re going to let a brother down.

“You can stay with us,” Hardcase offers. “At least you won’t be alone.”

“So, we just follow Echo around and see where things go?” Jesse asks. He’s obviously not too fond of the idea, which is understandable: they weren’t made just to observe things, but to act.

“What else can we do?” Fives replies. He hates how resigned he sounds, but really, what can they do? If there was anything he could do to change things, he would’ve done it a long time ago, and he tried, but to no avail.

A sigh escapes Jesse’s mouth at those words. It seems that he’s beginning to understand. “Yeah, you’re right…”

 They hug. Despite the fact that they’re supposed to be incorporeal, they still do feel something, at least with each other; besides, they might be ghosts now, but that doesn’t mind that they’ve lost interests in physical forms of affection.

They can find solace in each other, at least.

  And so, here they are, a pale shadow of what they used to be, but still here for some twists of fate.

All they can do is watching Echo’s struggle to stay alive, to escape from the Empire, thus they keep doing it, hoping that at least one of their brothers will be able to make it out alive and as his own person.

Maybe one day Echo will be able to see them, maybe they’ll manage to communicate with him, but for now all they can do is to watch and hope with the constant question of “is this enough?” plaguing their thoughts. They really hope it is.

[bangtann-bangdamn]

Summary: In trying to complete your final year at University, you find yourself isolated in the Library. Until a certain dimpled stranger decides to sit at your table.

Pairing: Namjoon x gender-neutral reader

Genre: Strangers to friends/lovers (implied), College AU, Meet Cute.

Prompt - College AU

Word count - 1.3k

AN: This is for the @btsghostiewritersnet drabble marathon.

Everyone knew that the third year of university was the worst. Just when you thought you had got the hang of deadlines and having a social life, your Dissertation came rolling through and reminded you that you would never have enough time to have it all.

At least, that’s what you kept telling yourself as you blew off any sort of social gathering in favour of studying at the library. You were so absorbed with doing extra research and verifying resources that you didn’t notice the guy that sat down on the other end of the table.

Okay, so not noticing him was a bit of a stretch. You looked up the first time he sat down with disdained interest before going back to your research when you realised he wasn’t going to be a distraction. Then every other time, you greeted him with a tight-lipped smile before dragging your gaze to your work. When it reached the point that he was at the library pretty much every day, you stopped really noticing his presence. He was just another stressed-out student looking for the same silence that had brought you.

Which was probably why you couldn’t pinpoint the exact time he had started moving down the table until he was sat directly opposite you. And, even then, you hadn’t really taken him in until your pen ran out.

It was outdated, you knew, to handwrite your notes. But you had a system! You would handwrite all your notes from the textbooks and articles you read before re-writing them up neatly at home whilst you re-watched Friends for the millionth time. It helped solidify the knowledge in your head, okay. Usually, you were prepared for this. You always kept a spare pen in your pencil case. And a spare for your spare. But as you dug around in your bag, all you found were empty pens. Then you remembered that you had lent the spare’s spare to Taehyung during your lecture that day and he was a notorious doodler. You dropped your head to the desk and groaned quietly. You were going to have to go home and grab another pen, which would take well over an hour.

“Here.”

You looked up to see a pen being offered to you. You shook your head as you met his dark brown eyes for the first time. “I can’t take a pen from a guy whose name I don’t know.” You sighed as you grabbed your books and lifted them from the table, mentally preparing yourself for your long journey home.

“Good thing you know it then.” He blessed you with a dimpled smile. “I’m Namjoon.”

You put the books back on the table before accepting his pen. “YN.” You smiled before pointedly returning back to your studies.

Okay, you knew that was rude. And, under any other circumstance, you would have made polite conversation with him. Especially because he was kind of cute. If you had realised he had killer dimples before that day, you definitely wouldn’t have been able to get any work done. You glanced up at him, watching him type away on his laptop, worrying his bottom lip with a furrowed brow. He was lightly tanned, his hair only a few shades lighter than his skin and ruffled from the number of times he had dragged his hands through it whilst he read. And his hair wasn’t short either. It was the perfect length to run your fingers through. And thick. The perfect kind of hair to grip onto when-

This was why. This was why you had to ignore him. You forced yourself to focus your attention back onto the page you were on. But your focus was gone. Why oh why had the attractive man with the pretty dimples picked the same table as you to occupy?

The gorgeous man who had loaned you a pen without so much as knowing your name. God, you were an awful person. You had taken his pen without saying thank you under the pretence that you were studying hard. You needed to say thank you. It was ingrained into your nature. What would your grandmother think?

“Can you watch my stuff?” You pushed back your chair as you stood, only the vaguest of ideas of where you were going in your mind.

Namjoon gapped for a second before his dimpled smile returned. “Sure thing, YN.”

God you loved the way he said your name, you thought as you promptly walked away from him and made your way to the ground floor. The only good thing about the library was the 24-hour coffee machine that was not only cheap but produced surprisingly good coffee. You weren’t sure whether Namjoon drank coffee or not, but you had yet to meet a fellow student to refuse a cup. Plus, with the late hour, you suspected you both were in dire need of a pick-me-up.

Armed with two lattes, you made your way back to your little section of the library. Namjoon jolted when you placed the coffee in front of him before returning to your own seat.

“What’s this for?” He asked, barely concealing the smile creeping upon his lips.

“It’s a thank you. For the pen.” You took a sip of your coffee as you averted your eyes back to your textbook, praying the heat you felt creeping on your cheeks wasn’t as visible as it felt.

“You don’t have to thank me for that.” He replied, lifting the cup up to his lips and taking a tentative sip. He looked surprised before turning back to you. “On second thought, thanks for the coffee.” And there were his dimples.

“You’re welcome.” You brushed a strand of your hair behind your ear as you ducked your head slightly.

After that, it became impossible to ignore Namjoon in the library. You would always arrive first and start working peacefully away on whatever assignment you had due next that would quickly come to an end when Namjoon sat down opposite you. You couldn’t help yourself from stealing glances of him. You hadn’t even really exchanged pleasantries after that day either, so you didn’t have the excuse of actually knowing the guy.

When he caught you staring at him for the fourth time during one study session, he frowned. “Everything okay?” He asked.

“Yep.” You quickly busied yourself with going through your notes in an effort to look a whole lot less creepy.

Namjoon chuckled. “You sure? Because it kind of seemed like you were focusing on something on my face?” He playfully inquired, the dimple on his right cheek coming out to play.

Or mock you.

“It’s your damn dimples,” you confessed, dropping your head in your hands as you groaned.

“My… my dimples?”

“They’re so damn cute.” You raised your head slightly to peek at him. “Honestly, they should be illegal.”

“It’s funny you should say that,” Namjoon chuckled. “I actually wrote a song about it.”

“You wrote a song about your dimples?” You tried to suppress your smile as you finally lifted your head up to look at him directly.

“Well, no. Not exactly.” His face flushed as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I wrote it from the perspective of seeing a girl with dimples but it was secretly… it’s stupid.”

“No, no! Continue. I’m intrigued now.”

“I just…” He sighed. “My dimples are my favourite feature.”

“I can see why.” You leant your head against one of your hands as you stared at him, which only caused him to smile more. You sighed at the sight of his dimples appearing.

“Do you want a coffee?” He asked, half-standing from his seat.

“Are you changing the topic?”

“Little bit.” He laughed.

“I would love one.” You smiled, watching as he walked away from your desk.

Who would have thought your mutual love for dimples would lead to a new friendship?

BGW Drabble Master List

Master List

[rogueonestan]

wopc : chapter 3- the connection

pairing: the mandalorian x f!reader/ ofc

word count: 4.1k

warnings: minimal canon violence (that trandoshan scene from 1x02)

summary: after bringing to the peace to the land of Arvala-7, you and the Mandalorian begin to make your way back to the Crest when three uninvited guests join your travels.

previous part | when our paths cross masterlist | main masterlist | next part 

You never thought you could ever be this exhausted after a hunt, and you haven’t even made it back to the Crest yet. 

After you and Mando were able to successfully disband the mini-city of mercenaries, you began making your way back to the Crest with the asset by your sides when you were suddenly ambushed by three Trandoshans, the same ones you felt staring at you back at the cantina on Nevarro.

As you and Mando turned to walk down yet another lengthy pathway, something felt off. You kept looking over your shoulder, again and again, to see if you could spot anything out of the ordinary, but the only thing that caught your eye was a few small reptile creatures that would come out of their hiding spots once your figure got further away from them. Everything seemed fine but you should’ve known better than the trouble on this trip wouldn’t have ended once you left the mini-city. 

The words ‘I got a bad feeling about this’ were on the tip of your tongue, but before you were able to open your mouth to say them, one of the Trandoshans suddenly appears right in front of you and knocks you down to the ground with a harsh shove. When your body collides to the floor, your head hits on the edge of a nearby at a weird angle. Luckily the area between the base of your neck and your head is the area that hits the rock, so the injury isn’t as fatal as it could’ve been, a wave of pain flutters throughout your body. The pain is so intense, however, that you are unable to aid your partner in combat. Luckily, after a few minutes of resting, you were able to get back on your feet and continue the journey back to the ship, all thanks to your partner. 

As the two of you continue your walk, you’re grateful for the silence that falls between you. 

You’re not even sure if you would even be able to make conversation at this point because of the aching pain that’s in your head. You don’t dare to mention anything to your partner because all you want to do right now is to sleep in your quarters. 

The throbbing pain in your head eventually begins to subdue over time. Before, all you could focus on is the pain and just muscle through it, but now, you’re finally able to focus on your surroundings and admire them. For example, you’re able to see the occasional fauna scurry off to the side as you and Mando pass by them. The sight of the creatures, even if it’s for a few seconds, puts a smile on your face because Arvala-7 doesn’t have much to offer. Besides the cliffs that linger on the upper levels and the rocks and fauna that reside where you currently are, there isn’t much to see. 

You don’t notice how late it’s getting until your partner mentions something. 

“We should make camp soon.” He suggests as he looks over in your direction. 

 “Yeah,” you say as you take notice of the now night sky.

The bright oranges that complimented the sunshine is now replaced with a dark, gloomy purple sky. Speckles of stars also glitter up the sky, acting as a natural light source to help guide you. 

“We should also check on the little one to make sure he’s okay.” You propose as your partner nods his head in agreement as you continue with your travels. 

It’s not long after that you find a suitable spot to make camp for the night. The area that you decided to rest at is an open area where the only options to rest are on a slab of rock or on top of the dirt. It’s not ideal but you have no other choice. 

You join your partner’s side and lean up against a large slab of rock- it’s uncomfortable but it’s better than sleeping on the cold floor. Taking off the strap of the bag that you take everywhere with you, you begin to settle in for the night. You’re about to close your eyes and try to get some sleep, but you hear a series of grunts to your right. Once you find the source of the noise, you find your partner is using some sort of heat pen to try to mend his wound, the same item that you’ve seen him use to make small repairs on the Crest. Just glancing at the wound he’s trying to mend, you can’t imagine how much pain he’s currently in as he tries to heal it with the tool in his hand. 

Before you’re able to do anything about it, another sound to your right catches your attention. You find the green little baby has made his way out of his pram and is slowly walking towards the Mandalorian. As he gets closer to Mando, one of his arms reaches out as his eyes squint shut in concentration. A faint humming sound reaches your ears and the sound only intensifies as the little one gets closer to the injured man.

A soft groan leaves the baby’s lips as he uses all of his strength to reach out in front of him, but Mando, oblivious to the baby’s true intentions, scoops the baby up in his arms and places him back in the pram where he belongs. 

After seeing what you just witnessed, you feel even more curious about the baby than ever. 

Upon meeting the little one, you’re not sure what was about him, but something seemed different about him like something was pulling you towards him when you first entered that room. You haven’t felt an immediate connection to anyone like this since the rise of the Empire. There’s just something different about him that entices you. You can’t exactly pinpoint it, but the slight humming that you can feel in the air around you isn’t something you experienced since you were younger, since you first began your journey. 

Thoughts about the baby, where he’s from, how he got to be in an abandoned building in the first place, roam your mind. How long has the Empire been looking for him? But the thoughts stop when you hear the grunts to your right continue and become louder than they were before. 

“What the hell are you doing?” You ask as you immediately sit up and look at your partner with a horrified look on your face.

Mando doesn’t say anything at first, mainly gesturing at his wound on the bicep, “healing.”

“Why don’t you use some bactaspray?”

“It’s not that bad-“ 

You scoff at him as you rummage through your bag, “give me your arm.” You say with a slightly assertive tone as you kneel in front of him. Mando doesn’t budge, his visor only continuing to look at you, “please?” You plead this time. 

Letting out a deep sigh, he relents, as he gives you permission to help him by moving his body towards you. Lightly placing a hand on his elbow, you lean towards Mando and before you apply the medication to his wound, you look up in his visor and give him a warning, asking, “ready?” With his approval, you begin spraying the affected area. Upon immediate contact, Mando lets out a muffled groan of pain. A mumbled ‘sorry’ escapes from your lips as you look away from his wound to see his reaction. His visor doesn’t help you whatsoever, but you can tell the medication is already taking effect by his body language. The rapid rise and fall of his chest from before is now replaced with his chest taking in deep breaths. As you glance down at the affected area, what catches your eye isn’t the traces of blood that remain, but the tan skin that now peeks through the tear of his tunic. 

Lightly squeezing his elbow, you let go of your grip on him but not before your hand now lingers above his exposed skin. 

Your fingers ghost a few inches above his exposed skin, but before you make skin-to-skin contact, you quickly remove your hand and have it lay on top of your thigh. A deep sigh leaves your lips when you get up from your kneeled position, trying your best to get as comfortable as you possibly can when you lay against the slab of rock, “just ask next time.” You comment with your eyes closed.

The moment you close your eyes, though, you suddenly hear a loud noise coming from your right. Craning your neck as far as you possibly can, another sigh leaves your lips as you find Mando reamending his cuirass with the same tool that he was trying to heal his wound earlier. Instead of bothering your partner for a second time, you try your best to at least get some rest. 

But before you’re able to, you vaguely hear your partner saying something. Reopening your eyes, the first thing you see are big, brown owl-like eyes. You move to scoop him up in your arms so you can try to get some rest, but as soon as his hand touches your arm, a series of memories from your past begin flooding your mind. 

The first memory that runs through your mind is one from when you were younger.

With your hands clasped, you run down the halls alongside your best friend. After finishing your training for the day, you and your best friend decided to let loose and roam free of the premises. Giggles are exchanged between the two of you when you accidentally collide with one of the older individuals of the facility. The older gentleman that you knocked into scolds you, telling you that you need to slow down, but your friend only pulls on your arm so can you continue to race down the halls. You mutter out a ‘sorry’ as your friend continues to tug on your arm. 

As you continue to weave up and down multiple hallways, you turn your head to glance at your best friend, only to find that a huge smile is on their face as laughter escapes from their lips.

“Where are we even going?” You ask.

“It’s a surprise.” Shaking your head, you laugh alongside them. 

You’ve never felt this free before. 

The second memory that flashes through your mind is one that you’ve tried so hard to forget.

Running in the mud alongside one of the many swamps that could be found on Saleucami, adrenaline fills your body as you try to run as fast as you possibly can. A cloud of tears blocks your vision as you try to recollect everything that happened within the past hour.

Everything went normal as always then something changed. You’re not sure when, or why, but one moment you were waiting for your mentor to return from a quick patrol when your allies by your side suddenly turned on you. 

While you were waiting, a dark cloud took control of the minds of your allies- thoughts of hatred entering their minds as they aimed their weapons at you. Luckily for you, you were able to escape their attack with minimal injuries, but fear still lingers in your system as you run as far and as fast as you can. 

With your weapon in your hand, you try your best to focus on the task at hand. You need to find some way off of this planet. 

“Where is she?” You can hear a voice ask from a distance. 

“She couldn’t have gone that far. Take a speeder and scan the area.” Another voice says. 

You can hear the sound of a speeder’s engine warming up as they quickly drive away. 

Upon hearing this, you quickly make your way in the opposite direction- a small attempt of avoiding another fight and being spotted.

Hiding behind a rather large tree, you’re finally able to catch your breath. You’re not sure of how long you’ve been running but you know this fight is far from over. 

Now, you need to find some way off of this planet before it’s too late. Maybe there’s some sort of settlement that you can rest at for a short while.

The next memory that flashed through your mind was even darker than the previous. 

After all of the years of surviving from the Empire, you’ve been able to know when something’s off. You felt it when your allies suddenly turned on you on that fatal day and you could feel it now. Taking your weapon from your side, you prepare yourself for the upcoming fight that you can sense. 

“I see nothing has changed.” 

The blood flowing through your veins suddenly turns cold upon hearing this voice. The voice that once brought you warmth and joy when you were younger now only brings fear in you where you stand now. The friend that you thought you had when you were younger has been gone for a long time and is now replaced with someone you don’t recognize. The lightness of your friend’s voice is now replaced with one that’s only filled with hate- a coldness you wish you never saw. 

“I wish I could say the same.” You say with a shaky breath as you turn around. You try to keep your emotions together, something you were taught to do along your friend’s side many years ago.

“You were always so quick to fight- never waiting. I wonder what your precious Rebel friends would think of you if they knew the truth. How much you’ve fallen.” They spat at you. 

You say nothing in response as tears now run down your face. Even though your mind tells you that everything you’ve done up to this point has been for the greater good- some of your actions go directly against what you were taught as a child, but you did it to survive. 

“What would they think of you? What would they call you?”

“A survivor.” The words come out as a whisper, more of you reminding yourself-justifying the actions of your past. 

The final memory that goes through your head is one that’s not as dark as the others- one that you remember distinctly before everything changed for the worst. 

Sitting crisscrossed on your bed with your eyes closed, you try to focus on the fresh air that enters your lungs. After being assigned a simple patrolling mission of a deserted planet, you wanted to clear your head before you met up with your mentor to leave. Your palms rest against your knees comfortably as you continue with the breathing exercises you’ve been taught. Taking in a deep breath, you’re brought out of your trance by the sound of gentle knocks on your door.

“Come in.” You say as you reopen your eyes. Seeing that it’s your mentor, you immediately uncross your legs, beginning to get up when the woman in front of you holds a hand out, silently telling you to stop.

“My young one,” she begins, “I have a gift for you before we embark on our journey.” With the calm tone you’ve familiarized yourself since you met her merely a year ago, “It is a tradition for a young one, such as yourself, to be given a gift by their mentor at around your age, so I wanted to give you yours before we left.” The gentle tone of her voice removes any anxiety you were feeling before you left for the mission. You can’t help but feel at ease with her by your side. 

With both of her arms stretched out, a simple black box rests in her hands. As you take the box from her hands, she continues, “my own mentor gave this to me and I believe it’s the right thing for me to do the same.” 

When you open the box, a simple crystal rests inside. Taking the crystal in your hand, you lift it in the air as the sunlight reflects off of it. Shadows of the reflection bounce off of your bedroom walls as you admire the gift. 

“A crystal?” You inquire with your head tilting, “but I-“

“This one’s special.” She insists, “this one is unlike any other one you will have seen before- you will need to connect with it. Only then, will you understand.” With that, she leaves the room, quietly shutting the door behind her. 

Lifting the crystal into the air again, seeing how the sunlight reflects off of it, you quickly place it in your pocket, not knowing the importance it would bring you in the future. 

A sharp exhale leaves your lips as memories from your past no longer plague your mind. Your breathing only continues to get heavier as you try to take in everything that you just experienced. 

Thought after thought enters your brain as you try to comprehend what just happened, how it happened. You can now feel the necklace that’s been resting against your chest is now being pulled by an unseen force. To your right, you find the mysterious baby is somehow pulling at the crystal that’s resting on your chest.

Once again, you can hear a slight humming in the air as the baby is in close proximity to you. It’s like a slight breeze against grass- faint but still there. 

Grabbing the piece of jewelry in your hand, the little hand that was once held out in front of you is now resting against the baby’s side. 

You get up from the hard floor and scoop the baby up in your arms as you walk towards his pram- hopefully he’ll actually stay there this time. 

When you glance down at the owl-like eyes that are staring at you, you can’t help but wonder if he had the weird experience that you had. You’ve never had such an odd experience as this for as long as you can remember. One moment you’re trying to fall asleep for the night, the next you’re reliving the best and worst memories that you can think of. 

“Don’t give me that look.” You warn the little one as you gently put him back in his pram. 

“What did you mean before?” Mando asks you once you retake your seat next to him. 

“When?” You ask as you look in his direction.

“Earlier- you said that you knew someone of its kind.”

“Oh, that,” You trail off as you lay back down next to your partner, “they were someone I trusted when I was younger. They helped train me, taught me that lightness and darkness aren’t two separate things, but rather, one cannot live without the other.” 

“Oh.”

“Not only was he one of the wisest teachers I’ve ever had, but he also was a dear friend.” Mando doesn’t say anything in response, only nodding as he reflects on your words.

Silence fills the air as the three of you rest up for the following day. The only sounds that could be heard are created by the local wildlife. You can hear soft snores coming from the other two but you, on the other hand, cannot keep your eyes closed for longer than five minutes. Whenever your eyes begin to droop, millions of thoughts scramble in your mind. 

The memories you re-experienced earlier keep replaying in your head over and over again. When the baby’s hand touched your skin, you felt a sensation that you haven’t felt in years. It’s a similar feeling you had when you were younger- when you first met your best friend all of those years ago. Like it was fate that both of your paths crossed. Did the kid feel the same thing? Does he feel the same pull towards you as you feel? With this in mind, you can’t help but feel guilty by the thought of giving the child to Imperial hands. Not only because he’s a vulnerable child, but also because you can’t help but think that somehow you were supposed to meet this mysterious child. Like your journey with him is far from over. 

The more you think about this possibility, the more you reflect on the limited time you’ve spent with the green little baby. Even before you met him, you felt like something was off. On Nevarro, you felt like something was wrong when you first received the bounty but you brushed it off as it 

was because it included former Imperials- not because it was something so much more. When you entered that room, you could feel the pull towards the baby without even realizing it. You just knew there’s something about this child that you could feel a connection to. You can’t exactly put your finger on it, but you’ve experienced a similar attraction towards someone before and it lead you towards the path that eventually lead you to Mando.

Maybe your path was supposed to be linked with this child, not Mando. No. You disregard the thought from your head. There’s no way that your paths are supposed to emerge. The only journey that you’re supposed to have with this child is limited- only for a few days at most, you tell yourself. 

You remind yourself that you can’t get attached to the baby. If you do, it’ll only make it that much harder to actually go through with the bounty. And even if you did want to, how would you mention this to your partner? How would you even begin to explain everything that you’ve been feeling ever since you entered that Imperial-occupied building on Nevarro? Would you have to tell him everything and just hope that he would believe you? 

Unlike your partner, the stars looming above you are awake and as bright as ever. As you glance over them, a feeling of peace overwhelms you. No more thoughts running through your brain at a pace faster than you can keep up with. No matter where you are in the galaxy, you’ve always felt at peace whenever you look at the midnight sky. It’s always been comforting to you to know that even though you’re just a tiny speck of the galaxy, you’ll always feel at home by looking at space. Whether it’s whenever you’re traveling to another planet with Mando or you’re making camp for the night, like tonight, glancing at the empty sky puts you at ease. Maybe it’s because nothing in the sky is in a rush like you are. With your lifestyle, you’re always on the move, but the stars always stay put. It may seem dumb when you put it that way, but you’ve always found solace whenever you glance at the night sky. 

The longer you see the stars twinkle, the calmer you feel. Even if it’s just for a moment, you don’t worry about anything- not what you’ve experienced over the past day or what the next day will bring.

Even when life is going at an alarmingly fast rate, you were always taught to take everything in and live in the moment- to reflect on everything. 

The pants that escaped from your chest earlier are now replaced with deep breaths as you continue to lazily look at the sky above you. Breathe in. Breathe out. 

Even with the stars calming your nerves, you can’t help but think of how things will be so different once you and Mando return back to Nevarro. During this short amount of time, you’ve never gone this attached to someone before only after a few days. By this time tomorrow, you’ll probably be flying off to another planet with Mando as you continue with the busy bounty hunting lifestyle that you’ve gotten used to by now. The little one will no longer be in your lives. Only another successful bounty that the Guild will remember you for. 

But as you skim over your partner’s unconscious form, you wonder if he’s feeling as uneasy as you are. Usually, the bounties you bring in are people who usually deserve it- people who skipped bail, were sympathizers of the Empire, but never helpless children. If you both crossed this line, would there ever be a limit? Would you just do what you were told just like you did during the war? 

You don’t know what your future will bring, but your journey with the Mandalorian and the little one is just beginning.

tags (let me know if you want to be added): @unstoppableforcce​ @remmysbounty​ @ayamenimthiriel​ @randomness501​ @itspauvr​ @sarahjkl82-blog​

[still-busy-being-mortal]

the rising of the moon

word count: 4544

rating: G

fandom: the mechanisms

warnings: major character death

summary: They've lived so long together, perhaps it is only fitting they die alone.

story notes: so this came about as a result of wanting to cry MORE about the mechs. don't ask me why.

features raphaella spouting unnecessary science jargon, ivy being emotionally repressed/depressed, drumbot brian holding a conversation with himself, and the toy soldier being actually emotionally intelligent.

——————

JONNY

It’s a quiet day aboard the starship formerly known as The Aurora. Most of the crew is out, and she’s drifting slowly through a dusty asteroid field. Ivy has stayed aboard to read, and Drumbot Brian was designated ship-sitter, so he’s stayed on as well. When enough time has passed (Is it days? Or decades? No one knows anymore, and no one cares. They are all so tired.), Brian hits the alert switch that will tell the Mechanisms to come home.

Ivy feels the gentle vibration in her brain --the pulse of The Aurora’s beacon-- and she puts her book down before walking slowly to the navigation bridge. Marius’ hand starts to buzz, messing up his note-taking; he apologizes to the rather fascinating asteroid-dweller he’s interviewing and takes his leave. Ashes feels their chest hum, and they turn away from their beautiful, fiery meteor shower.

[read more on ao3, or continue below!]

One by one, the Mechs find their way home. It takes some longer than others, but they all return eventually. Or they should; right now, there are only seven crewmates in the navigation bridge.

“I’m sick of waiting--where the hell is Jonny?” Tim whines.

“I guess he decided to stay in the asteroid belt?” Marius says.

“Woulda been nice to let us know,” mutters Ashes, “So we’re not all sittin’ here for ages.”

Brian stands and raises his hand. “All in favour of leaving and returning in a few decades?” They all agree, so he pilots Aurora away from the asteroid field.

Time goes by, and they do not hear from Jonny. Of course, members of the crew sometimes stay away for long periods of time, but that doesn’t mean their absence is not felt. And Jonny hasn’t appeared to try and contact them at all.

After a while, they vote to return to the asteroid belt. When they arrive, they split up, communication devices in hand.

Ivy combs through her memory, trying to summon any knowledge she has on Asteroid Field 01.18.20. The Toy Soldier moves methodically from meteor to meteor, searching for their lost comrade. Raphaella interviews any inhabitants she comes across, axially coding their qualitative responses to identify patterns in the data. Tim goes to a bar for a drink, irritated at Jonny’s latest antic.

He walks into some nameless, backwater joint and sits at the counter, flagging down the bartender with a lazy wave. He orders and waits, mechanical eyes roving the establishment. And then he freezes.

On the far wall hang a few dozen photographs, all dusty and poor quality. Above the photos is a crudely-done banner that simply reads “Cheers to Our Past Patrons.” One of the pictures is of Jonny.

When the bartender returns, Tim asks: “What’s the deal with the wall of fame, then?”

“Oh, that,” they answer tiredly. “Just sum dark joke the old owner thought up. Them’s the folks who kicked it in this here bar, you see.”

Tim was confused. “You mean those people died here? That can’t be right; my friend’s up there, and he can’t d--he’s alive.”

The barkeep shrugged. “Don’t know, pal. We had to bury most of thems out back, if you reckon you want to check.” He chuckled darkly and went back to drink-making.

Tim quickly finished his drink and went out the back door. He debated alerting the other Mechs about this development, but decided he might as well see for himself first.

He found the makeshift graveyard quickly, small rusty mounds amid the equally rusty asteroid outback. Some displayed names on roughly carved wood planks, but obviously none of them said “Jonny d’Ville” (Tim laughed at the idea of Jonny carrying around an ID). Most were unmarked, however, so he started to dig.

He used his hands, too impatient to try and find a shovel. He came across bodies and bones in various stages of decay, but none that had any chance of being Jonny. About fed up with this ridiculous idea of his, he decided to dig up one more grave. He shovelled dirt and rocks out of the way, until his hand hit something hard and cold. Something metallic. He pulled on it, and came away with a belt. Christ , he thought.

He quickly scooped away the rest of the dirt, revealing the corpse of Captain First Mate Jonny d’Ville. Dead. Tim stumbled backward, hand fumbling for his comm. “Um, mates, I-I found him.”

The Mechanisms were different after that. Yes, Nastya had gone Out long ago, but they had never actually come across her dead corpse , so it wasn’t the same. Marius had examined his body and declared him fully, completely, and irrevocably dead. They had held a funeral, but they were all too much in shock to really remember it. All they knew was that they were down a crew member, without a captain first mate, and terribly aware of their own mortality.

ASHES

About half the crew was in Raphaella’s lab, helping her with some complex kind of experiment. Raph was mixing two viciously green liquids together, while Marius was unspooling wire from a large bobbin. The Toy Soldier was holding an ultraviolet light against a motherboard, and Ashes connected the motherboard to the chartreuse concoction using the wires. After pouring all of the chemicals, Raphaella pulled on some rubber gloves and pulled out a small pocketwatch from her shirt. “Are we ready?” she asked gleefully. Without waiting for an answer, she started the countdown. “Five! Four! Three! T--curses!” The pocketwatch slipped from her gloved grasp and fell into the churning beaker. All at once there was a flash and a bang, and the lights went out. They stood in complete silence for a minute, before the backup generators flicked on.

The Toy Soldier clapped its hands, “That Was Jolly Good! Can We Do It Again?”

“No, TS, look, I got goop on my--wait!” Marius shouted, “Where’s Ashes?” They all turned to look at where the quartermaster had been just moments before. The floor where they’d been standing was a scorched, intricate, dark pattern of swirls. “What the hell is that ?”

“I Do Not Know, But I Will Go Get The Archivist!”

TS returned with Ivy, who took one look at the patterns on the floor and asked: “Who is it that has been time travelling?”

“Time travelling?!” Raph exclaimed.

“Yes,” Ivy said, “Those marks are a perfect exemplar of the evidence left behind when one has been forcibly transported forward or backward in the time continuum. Which one of you did it? Did you happen to bring back any books?”

“It wasn’t us: it was Ashes.” Marius said, “And we don’t think they’ve come back yet.”

Ivy grew very pale. “That is highly alarming. There’s a less than 0.1% chance that a time traveller ever comes back if they do not return instantly after the outset of their journey.”

“Y-you mean Ashes might not...” Marius trailed off, “...Wait a second! That doesn’t make sense! We don’t experience time linearly!”

“That may be true, but we are not forcibly moved through it either. We are at the whim of the narrative flow, and any alteration to that usually produces negative results.”

The Toy Soldier flashed through many emotions at once, though its face never changed. “So Quartermaster O’Reilly Is...Gone?”

“We can’t prove that yet!” Raph cried, fluttering around the lab and grabbing various scientific instruments. “Maybe if I can pinpoint when exactly they’ve been transported to, we can...we can bring them back.”

“That’s quite a long shot,” Marius said.

“What is science if not a shot into the ignorant dark?” Raph replied, rigging up a technological monstrosity. She aimed the thing at the charred spot and clicked a button, causing the machine to emit a pulsating, whirring sound. “Oh, you all might want to close your eyes.”

With a burst of green and a harsh dial tone, the thing spit out a strip of paper. Raph grabbed it and read it intently. She dropped it suddenly, eyes distant and empty. “They are gone.”

The room burst into a cacophony. (“What do you mean?!” “Gone How? Gone Forever ?” “It was statistically unlikely that they could have returned.”) Raph picked up the paper and pressed it onto the lab table. Most of it was meaningless words and numbers, but Raph pointed out a string in the center: “RESULT) DATE: %& INFINITE ROUNDING ERROR $! _ LOCATION: SINGULARITY!UNIVERSAL IMPLOSION. ANALYSIS) CHANCE OF TERMINATION: 100.0% +-0.0 R = 1.0”

“They’re gone.”

RAPHAELLA

The crew was far more disorganized after Ashes left. With no one to maintain inventory or keep the crew in line, The Mechanisms started to fall apart. Raphaella tried for a while to build some kind of time-travelling device, some way of defying the inexorable march of the story, but it was in vain. She was left with only one option; one experiment she hadn’t tried yet.

She carefully laser cuts some metal from the starship once known as the Aurora. She sits in Nastya’s former workshop for hours, bending and twisting and fabricating until she is left with wings; wings more breathtaking than any she has possessed before. Once on, they fan out behind her in a starburst of blue and metallic grey.

But her crew will never see them. In the cover of darkness, she steals away to the airlock. The ship is currently sailing past a black hole (Raphaella has the Messier number and NGC identification memorized, but that’s not her concern now). With one final look backward at the place that had been her home for millennia --the place she thought she would call home forever -- she casts herself into the black hole.

Ivy finds the note she left, succinct and unmincing as ever:

“Addressed to whoever finds this first:

After a brief review of prior literature, I have found extensive holes (no pun intended) in the study of singularities, specifically as it relates to a singularity’s effect on a humanoid body and mind. I seek to rectify this, as well as explore the possibility of horological manipulation, though perhaps my methods are not entirely replicable. It is every scientist’s dream to be on the cutting edge of research, and so I initiate this experiment joyfully. Also, black holes are hypothesized to have magnificent magnetic fields!

Yours,

Dr. Raphaella La Cognizi”

TIM

Tim, Marius, the Toy Soldier, Brian, and Ivy wait. They do not wait together, and they do not know what exactly it is they’re waiting for, but they wait nevertheless.

Time passes.

Brian pilots the ship towards various planets, pointless battles, dying stars. One day, the remaining Mechs arrive at a lawless sea-based war occurring on a planet composed entirely of liquid obsidian. They commandeer a ship (which they dub the ‘Dawn’) and spend decades wreaking havoc as the most formidable group of pirates. But Tim knows something is wrong.

“Tim, take out that vessel off the starboard side.” Brian orders from the prow of the Dawn.

Tim smoothly preps, loads, and positions a cannon to aim directly at the enemy ship in question. He lights the fuse, and the cannon fires. The crew watch as the projectile hurls through the air, arcing like a cold meteor into the distance. They watch it come down towards the enemy vessel. And they watch it miss.

The crew turns to stare at Tim. He’s not nearly as mortified as they expected. In fact, he’s perfectly serene.

“Um, Tim…” Marius starts slowly, “D-did you know you, uh...missed?”

“Yep.” he responds, popping the ‘p’.

“Did you mean to?”

“Nope.”

“And...you’re not upset by that?”

“Not especially.”

(“That’s a fascinatingly abnormal psychological response,” Marius mutters under his breath, jotting something down in a notebook he appears to have produced out of nowhere.)

The crew continues to stare as Tim goes below deck to his bunk, humming slightly.

Tim has known something was off for a long time now. His aim started to err by nanometres, then by millimeters, then more, until he was missing entire ships like today. He’d panicked at the beginning, of course, but now? Now, he was ready to be done.

He’d felt the pressure building up in his head, behind his eyes. He got spurts of tunnel vision randomly, and sometimes his vision just went to static. He gradually lost the ability to see some colors, as the electronic rods and cones went out one-by-one and refused to self-repair. But he wasn’t nervous or distressed or alarmed; he was excited.

You see, he’d been saving something for a special occasion. He didn’t know what ‘special occasion’ entailed, since the Mechs never consistently celebrated holidays or birthdays, but permanent death seemed like a pretty good one. He rooted around in his rucksack, and withdrew a set of shiny silver keys; keys he’d stolen a long, long time ago. These were the ignition keys to the largest gunship existence will ever see, and Tim planned to go out with a bang. That evening, he told the crew he wanted them all to return to the starship so he could be dropped off somewhere. They all agreed, since they didn’t have any real cares anymore, and they set off for the planet Tim had etched into his memory.

Tim sits in the cockpit of the gunship, the planet itself already ruined and smoking from fighting his way to get here. The Mechanisms were long gone, as he’d told them to leave without him. He hadn’t exactly said he wasn’t planning on coming back, but he thinks they understood. With one last grin of pure, unadulterated madness, he kicks the gunship into gear and blasts off.

The ship goes too fast to comprehend, and in an instant he’s shooting across the cosmos, shattering stars and razing entire systems of planets. The universe has never before witnessed such complete and utter desolation. Tim doesn’t process much during this rampage...until he starts to die.

He doesn’t know what he hit, but something has jolted the gunship just right, and he’s flung out the front glass. He knows he should die instantly, and he is, but his eyes are moving faster. They’re replaying his life, backwards, and he wants to groan with the cliché-ness of it all. But then it’s over. Or, almost over. At the very end, so fast, so short compared to the millennia he has lived, he catches sight of a young man in a trench. Bertie. A face he will never forget no matter how much longer he could have lived. And in the moments of blackness before he stops forever, he thinks about Bertie, about what comes next.

Faith is a moot point when you’re immortal, since you’ve quite literally come into contact with gods and demons, eldritch horrors and cosmic powers. But here, at the end of his wretchedly long existence, Tim wonders if he will ever see Bertie again. If he will ever see Jonny, or TS, or Ashes, or anyone ever again.

He dies blind, with their names on his lips.

IVY

Exposition: Ivy is quite spectacular at suppressing her emotions. She’s also skilled at identifying patterns, so by the time Raphaella left, she knew what was going on with 98% certainty. Without much fanfare, she packed her bags (5 for books and 1 for everything else), said goodbye to Marius, Brian, and the Toy Soldier, and left.

She rifled through her memory archives for the quaintest library she knew of, and headed there.

Rising Action: And so time passed.

Ivy read, and organized, and wrote, and...existed. Nothing happened, and nothing changed. Carmilla must have made an error in her mechanization because she’d never been the best at processing feelings, but she was happy, she thought.

Climax: A war came, and her library was attacked. With the numbest, most detached sense of purpose imaginable, she loaded an escape pod with random books she thought should be preserved and fired it out into the void. She didn’t even know she’d been hit until she’d fallen to the floor, blood streaming from a massive wound. She knows she is dying; she’d seen the patterns.

Denouement: Her brain whirs slower and slower, until it stops. The end.

MARIUS

They are not a crew any longer. Brian has firmly rooted himself on the bridge, more robot than man now. The Toy Soldier wanders the ship, searching for its friends who are playing the best game of hide-and-seek that the universe has ever seen. Marius putters along, doing some maintenance, writing down his thoughts, and waiting for his death.

He’d always known this life of theirs couldn’t last. Besides the conceptual and moral implications of an eternal existence without consequences, it didn’t even make sense physically . There was no such thing as a perpetual motion machine, and he was surprised his more rational-minded crewmates didn’t question it more. But now his theory had come to fruition, and his crew, his family , had slowly dropped off one-by-one, like leaves from an autumnal tree.

He’s at a bit of a loose end now. With no people left to talk to, no minds to pick, he doesn’t feel any sense of purpose. It’s not depression--he knows that; it’s more of a...cosmic futility.

He feels one last pull, one last tug of the all-pervading narrative, a tide of finality, urging him towards a certain door. He knows this door, knows what it means when he opens it. But he also knows all things come to an end eventually, so why not go out doing what he always did? Providing the comic relief.

“Time this for me, will you, Aurora?” he calls out. He turns the handle and steps inside.

BRIAN

Since Jonny’s death, Brian has been at war with himself. He supposes he’s always been at war with himself though, and his current moral quandary reminds him uncomfortably of his first.

Sitting on the bridge alone, he decides to have a conversation.

“So the crux of the problem is that we can bring people back from the dead, correct?”

He flips his switch. “Correct.”

He flips it back. “But the dilemma is whether we should bring the Mechs back or not.”

“Also correct.”

“Which we shouldn’t, because they wanted to die.”

“No, we should. We want them alive, right? Using magic is definitely the easiest way to achieve that.”

“But we need our family to be happy. God knows how long it’s been.”

“Is the end goal their happiness or our happiness?”

“If I answer that, will I change your mind?”

“Is altering the end goal really the moral way to win this argument?”

“You know what? Damn you.”

Time passes, and each crewmate’s departure only makes Brian’s contempt for his own inner hesitation grow. He spends years staring out into the cosmos, thoughts whirling just as fast as the dust and gases beyond the glass. He wonders if he will ever die and join his family, or if the degree of his artificiality will render him truly immortal. He hates that thought more than most anything else.

He stops smelling the smoke of Ashes’ fires one day, and wonders if his olfactory systems are shutting down.

He stops feeling the rumble of Raphaella’s experimental explosions, and wonders if his nerve endings are rusting.

He stops seeing the flash of Tim’s gunshots bounce around the corridors, and wonders if he’s gone as blind as the gunner himself.

He stops hearing Ivy’s narration, and wonders if his auditory fluids have finally trickled away.

One day, the lone violin that has been echoing throughout the empty starship fades out, and Brian feels his heart stop.

It restarts of course, but Brian knows.

He knows that it’s finally, finally time. Soon, very soon, there will be no more life aboard this ship. No life, where there had been life for eons. No life, where there had been life immortal.

His sense of taste has never come into doubt, because he can still taste the acridness of the Toy Soldier’s cooking wafting on the air. He decides it’s only right to bid goodbye, so he makes his way back to the kitchen. On the way, he passes the Doctor’s old laboratory. He briefly considers destroying it, bringing down the whole ship in a blaze of fire and brimstone, but he knows that isn’t right; it wouldn’t fulfill anything.

In the kitchen, the Toy Soldier is pulling something pink and grey and on fire out of the oven. “Hey, TS,” Brain says gently, leaning against the doorframe as his heart falters again. “I-I’ve got to talk to you.”

The Toy Soldier spins around. “Drumbot Brian!” it shouts joyfully. “How Have You Been, Old Chap! I Have Been Playing Hide-And-Seek With The Rest Of The Crew For A While Now, And They Are Definitely Winning! Have You Seen Them?”

“Oh, TS,” Brian says sadly, “We’re all who’s left now. Don’t you know? The others have gone.”

He sees the Toy Soldier’s wooden eyes soften, betraying an agedness he’s never seen before. “Of Course I Know, Bean. But What Have We Been Doing This Whole Time, If Not Pretending?”

Brian smiles sorrowfully, and TS matches it. “I just wanted to let you know, TS, that now it’s my turn to go.”

“I Know.” It salutes him. “Goodbye, Drumbot.”

Brain gently returns the salute, and leaves.

He stumbles through the ship, heart failing rapidly now, but he makes it to the airlock. He knows deep down that there’s only one way his story could end. His whole existence has been framed by empty solitude, with his family providing the best aberration one could wish for. With his body more an empty metal frame than a robot now, he opens the airlock and casts himself back into the cosmos, from whence he came, and where he would die.

THE TOY SOLDIER

Its friends are all gone away now, and it knows this. There is no more laughter aboard the starship once known as the Aurora. There is no more gunfire or explosions. There is no more music. The cold mass of metal drifts through the void of the uncaring cosmos, with no living being aboard.

But The Toy Soldier has to be sure; it has to guarantee that it is truly all alone now. So it visits its friends’ final resting places.

It spends some years gazing out the front windows of the ship. The thrusters have been broken for a long time now, and the Toy Soldier doesn’t know how to repair them, so it just sits and watches. It wants to see the Drumbot, so it pretends that it does. Soon enough, out the starboard porthole, it spies him. His metal is rusted and warped, frost rendering most of his face unrecognizable. A drum is still looped around his shoulder. The Toy Soldier tethers itself to the ship and goes outside for a moment, drifting towards the robot. It lays a wooden hand on his deformed chest, and feels that his heart beats no longer. It carves off a long curl of wood from its side, and places it in Brian’s frozen hand.

It returns to the ship. It hadn’t known where Marius had disappeared to, but now it feels the force of the narrative driving it towards a certain room. It opens the door, and a handful of mangy octokittens hiss at it and scurry away. There’s nothing in the room besides a pile of crumpled clothes, a broken violin, and a metal hand, but the Toy Soldier could recognize that style anywhere. It gently twists one of its own wooden hands off, and lays it on the mound.

The Toy Soldier knows that Ivy went somewhere far away, so it closes its eyes and pretends that it’s there. When it opens them again, it finds itself in the charred ruins of some great marble building. At its feet lay bones, a metal flute, and a mess of circuitry, untouched by the ash. The Toy Soldier reaches up, removes a piece of wood from the back of its head, and lays it besides the flute.

The Toy Soldier has a harder time finding the gunner. It’s drawn this way and that, chasing an intangible trail through the stars and galaxies. All of the planets it passes are devoid of life. Finally, finally, it stumbles across an enormous, gaping wreck of a starship, all mangled and smashed to pieces. The ship is so large, it’s drawn smaller asteroids into an orbit around it. On one of these rocky satellites, the Toy Soldier spies a body: a skeleton covered in a long brown coat with a guitar slung across it. A pair of mutilated, metal eyes rest in the skull. The Toy Soldier smiles sadly, removes one of its own wooden eyes, and slips it into the pocket of the coat.

It knows it cannot follow the science officer into a black hole. It does manage to find the sketches of the wings Raphaella designed, so it gathers them up, takes two chunks of wood from its back, finds Raph’s keyboard, and casts everything into the nearest singularity.

After pretending to be at the end of space and time, it finds itself there. There is nothing, absolutely nothing. It removes two segments of wood from deep within its chest and places them in the nothingness, along with the strings of an old electric bass it had found. As it winks back to the ship, it catches the faintest scent of gasoline.

It returns to the asteroid Jonny had died on, the start of their ignoble demise. It visits his grave, in the taupe dirt of the desert behind the backwater bar, and sees all of the trinkets and mementos the crew had left behind. It knows none of them left anything during their makeshift funeral, so that means each of them must have slipped away at some point to come here on their own. Ashes has left their best lighter, Tim a pair of dogtags. Marius left behind all of his notes of Jonny’s disaster of a brain, and Brian has deposited some sun-scorched piece of space station. His harmonica has also found its way here, somehow. The Toy Soldier slowly, slowly reaches into its chest and removes its wooden heart, laying it down atop the mound of dirt and memories. It walks away, and knows that it can finally, finally stop pretending.

AURORA

There is no record of where the Toy Soldier went next. It certainly did not return to the empty ship once known as the brilliant Aurora. The lifeless, soulless, music-less ship drifts on alone through the cosmos, rusting and warping until no one could tell it had ever been a ship at all. Eons pass, and whatever memory the universe might have had of The Mechanisms has been utterly lost.

Until the misshapen mass gets stuck in the orbit of a planet. Molded and formed by the planet’s gravity, the ship is reborn as a moon. And all at once, she comes to life.

As dawn washes over her, the young moon hears a voice. “Hello, dear,” a woman coos, “My name is Dr. Carmilla.”

[crystaljins]

River lead me home | 01

Characters: Seokjin x Reader

Word count: 9.2k

Synopsis:  Ever since coming to the human realm when you were child, nothing seems to fit, and this was just supposed to be a simple roadtrip to help you find yourself.

Is that too much to ask for?

Spin-off to A long journey home

Rating: Teens

Notes: You guys are gonna laugh... I tried to upload this yesterday but it screwed up and only the title got posted! Naturally I deleted the post and didn’t get a chance to fix everything up, but it’s finally here! My monster of a fic !!!! Updates will be weekly. Honestly this fic took a lot to write, and it’s been 8 whole months of working on it!!! So I hope you guys enjoy it T.T If not I won’t be made though LOL (edit: @blue1928​ forgot to tag u soz)

p.s. I AM working on the HP prompts I’m just really busy this next couple of weeks LOL

Masterlist

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 FINAL

You’ve never really been particularly fearful of getting in trouble with your mother. She has always been a sweet and timid lady, the kind who would let her daughter get away with murder. And you are an adult, even if you don’t act like it, and so it’s not like your mother can do anything other than express her disappointment with your actions. 

Kim Seokjin, on the other hand, can have you quaking in your shoes with just a look. He was your nextdoor neighbour growing up, even before you all fled your home realm. He has since moved out of his parents’ home into his own apartment to pursue his dream as a doctor (and to take home as many lady friends as he likes without his parents’ knowledge), but he is still very much a stern presence in your life, even as one of your closest friends. He likely feels responsible for you, since though the two of you were young when you were driven into the human world, he is three years older. He did once refer to you as something like an untrained puppy, which you guess is very reflective of how he views you. The result of such feelings of responsibility is him trying his best to fulfill all the duties of being your legal guardian despite having no obligation to do so. The effect is him being terrifyingly stern with you, despite him being a calm, good-humoured guy with everyone else he meets.

Which is why, when you wake up in a hospital bed with your leg wrapped in a cast, you know that today is the day Kim Seokjin kills you. If the job interview that you completely messed up isn’t enough motive for him to seek you out, then the fact that you tried to stop a purse snatcher and ended up breaking your leg in the ensuing scuffle after said thief’s motorcycle fell on you most certainly is. 

In your defence, it wasn’t like you could just leave them be! Yes, you had not been back to your home realm once in the thirteen years since you and every other guardian were driven out, but at your core, you like to think you are still a Guardian. And so, as is custom, you cannot turn down a plea for help. And the young woman screaming in distress as a man on a motorcycle drove past and snatched her purse straight off her shoulder had certainly sounded like a plea for help! Really, Jin should be impressed, because the ensuing chase was something straight out of a movie, what with you in hot pursuit on your own bike (the one both your mother and Jin do not know you own). And you totally would have gotten the purse back if it wasn’t for the slight motorcycle crash. You’re not exactly sure what you hit since the events are a little blurry, but whatever it was, it ended up knocking you out and breaking your leg. 

A slight commotion breaks out at the entrance to the room and by the way onlookers swoon, you know that your time on earth is up. For the only person that can stir such a reaction upon entering a room is Kim Seokjin himself. Guardians naturally fit most of the qualifiers of what humans consider attractive, but even by Guardian standards, Jin is ridiculously handsome. Even though you find him boring and the biggest nag to walk the planet, not even you are immune to his disarming good looks. You could probably sense his aura blindfolded and your eyes are always drawn to him in a crowd and so you easily pinpoint him amongst the crowd of onlookers before he spots you. Today is his day off and so he does not wear his usual doctor’s gown. Instead a well fitted button up shirt and trousers highlights the broadness of his shoulders and the elegance of his figure as he strolls through the room as if he owns it. You recognise the style- that particular combination of button up and trousers are his date clothes. Your heart plummets when you recognise the outfit. Jin will be extra irritated about having to check on you in the hospital on his day off. Why did the paramedics have to take you here of all places? You’ve really signed your life away this time.

He pauses to smile at a nurse who passes by and she is immediately dazzled. Though he is no doubt furious with you, and is frequently irritated by your shenanigans, to the rest of the world he is charming and funny and good-tempered. You watch the exchange with curiosity- the nurse laughs at something Jin says and there’s a faint flush to her cheeks. You will probably never have such an exchange with Jin- even if he relaxed enough to make a joke in your presence, it would probably be at your expense. Jin’s taste in women is very obvious- he likes women that match him in beauty, ones that are fantastic at making you feel like a potato in comparison despite your guardian heritage, however unintentionally. Something in you twinges at the thought- you wouldn’t mind having a normal relationship with Jin. One where he smiles at you and makes jokes and actually enjoys your presence. But he’ll probably never view you like that- he’s made it very clear throughout your friendship what you are to him.

The nurse points in your direction and takes Jin’s distraction as an opportunity to trail her gaze appreciatively over his figure, settling on his profile. She must be new to the hospital if this is the first time that she is experiencing what Jin’s coworkers at the hospital describe as the “Jin effect”. Any humans (and most guardians for that matter) who meet him instantly succumb to his charisma and absurdly handsome face and find themselves desperately in love. This nurse is no exception and you decide to utilise the momentary distraction she has provided Jin when she attempts to get his number by attempting to slide off your bed and scurry away.

A tug at the back of your collar has you stiffening. If this were a movie, there would be an uneasy swell of high-tension violin as you turn your head to find Jin has grabbed the back of your shirt to stop your slow escape. He must have utilised a spot of enhanced guardian speed to be able to cross the room so quickly. The violins in your head begin to screech in terror. Jin merely smiles and it is eerily charming. His cheeks puff out and his lips curl in a way that would dazzle the average onlooker but you see the lethal intent in his eyes. You barely manage to hold back a fearful shudder.

“Nurse Jo!” He calls, and his tone is playful and sweet which contrasts directly with the venom in his dark pupils. In their depths you can foresee your death. “It seems one of our patients is trying to escape.” His tone darkens and drops on the last word and you flinch, preparing for the end.

Only it never comes, and you find Jin hoisting you up by the back of your shirt and with the help of security rushing forward they wrangle you back into bed. They do well- the average human doesn’t stand much chance against the superior strength of a guardian, and you are currently fighting for your life. But with Jin in the mix, they have you strapped to your bed in no time, forced to listen to whatever longwinded and painful lecture Jin has prepared for you

He stands at your bedside, arms folded across his chest. You mentally write your will in your mind- Taehyung can have your Nintendo switch and his girlfriend can go through your clothes and take any that she likes. Your mother gets anything worth more than $20 in your bedroom (though she might be searching for a while to find such an item, if it even exists) and Seokjin can get custody of your evil cat. Maybe it’ll scratch his stupidly handsome face up and you can get revenge from beyond the grave. 

“Are you going to tell me what happened?” Jin asks, and his voice is surprisingly calm. You look away, scratching at where the cast on your leg rubs at the skin of your shin. It’s stupid to wear the cast since with your enhanced healing abilities the break will be better by tomorrow, but the doctors of this world do not know that. 

You are not fooled by the almost friendly, interested tone to his voice- there is anger bubbling behind the mask of polite curiosity. Likely he is holding back to full force of his fury because this is his workplace.

“Well, I’d like to preface by saying I had no choice. Was I supposed to just let the robber go?” You say. You were attempting to placate him before elaborating on the full story, but it appears to have the opposite effect. Jin’s eyes bulge out of his head and his face goes that interesting shade of red that only appears when he’s very, very angry. 

“Robber? You took on a robber?” He says slowly, and you can tell it takes a few moments for the words to process. But gradually, the veins in his neck bulge and his eyes gradually widen and you wince as Jin erupts into what you like to call his “jants- Jin Rants.”. “Ya! Are you crazy? What were you thinking? What if you had been killed? I would have had to tell Auntie and then I would have had to organise your funeral because she would be inconsolable! If I even survived my parents trying to kill me for letting you die at the hands of a ROBBER of all people!” The impressive thing about a jant is the speed at which it is spat out. You are sure that professional rappers have nothing on the way Jin can spill out verses in a rage. He shoves a hand through his hair in distress and the ensuing messy look it generates is unfairly attractive- you think you see a middle-aged woman swoon in the hospital bed across from yours. Or faint. It’s hard to tell in a hospital. He continues screeching. “And then they’d PROBABLY make me MOVE BACK HOME as PUNISHMENT and there goes my social life! You could have ruined MY WHOLE LIFE, (Y/N)! What is wrong with you? Why do you always go making trouble like this?” It is those words, out of his whole rant, oddly enough, that causes you to stiffen. The implication that all you do is cause trouble. Which in a way you suppose you do. You cause your mother unnecessary worry- Jin is constantly sacrificing things to take care of you. Even your friends are constantly having to shout you meals due to your perpetual state of unemployment.

“I... couldn’t just leave it- they needed help, Jin.” You admit softly. Jin somehow hears your quiet admission over his furious jant and falls silent. He stares at you in confusion for a long moment, like he was expecting more of a fight, or some sort of annoying comeback. But the confusion is enough to subside his rage. The jant is over, with minimal damage. He drags over a chair and slumps by your bedside, once more running a hand through his hair. 

“You’re so reckless. Robber’s rarely pull stunts like that unarmed! You may have enhanced healing compared to a human, but you still die if someone stabs you! And this is your third ER trip this month!” He scolds and his tone is far gentler than before- not unlike how one might speak to a child, rather than someone a mere three years younger than him. You meekly bow your head, chastised. “How do you think auntie would feel if anything happened to you, (Y/N)? You may be a Guardian, but Guardians aren’t invincible. You, of all people, should know that.”

You flinch, feeling as though he’s slapped you. He’s clearly furious with you if he’s willing to choose such a sore spot to shame you. For the thirteen years you have been in the human realm, it has just been you and your mother. You have not been able to forget that fact for a single day. Every day you awaken afresh with the reminder that there is a third member to your family who should be there but is not. Your father’s life was lost as you all fled, and your mother had found herself widowed with a headstrong young child in a foreign and unfamiliar realm. Jin’s family have always been around to help because you haven’t exactly been an easy child to raise, but there are some burdens that no one can lift from a single parent.

 And you love your mother, and you really would do anything for your her. It’s just... you don’t want to pretend that you’re a human. For your entire time here, your guise as a human has felt like an itchy, poorly fitted jacket that you want to peel off and throw away. Humans are selfish and lazy and would leave a child on the side of the road and they’d been very quick to notice that you were different and target you for it- these are all things your father hated. To be human is to spit on the sacrifice he made for you... and yet to continue to fight it is also disregarding that he gave up his life to let you live in comfort. 

Jin, with his handsome face and ability to charm anyone he meets instantly, has never had an issue settling into the human realm, and so he’s never really understood why you cling so much to your former home realm. He knows that you’ve never truly stopped grieving the life of your father, but he cannot understand why you do not see the human world the way that he does. He had very much taken to being a human and enjoys all the perks that come with it- the technology, the fawning women, the interesting and unique cuisines... Jin adores human culture. And so, it irks him that you constantly seem to be sticking out like a sore thumb. 

“I’m sorry.” You say in a small voice and you’re so downcast that you miss the way that Jin’s face crumples with guilt. 

“Just... try to be safer in the future. This realm has its own law enforcement. We don’t need to be guardians here.” He tells you softly. Then he clears his throat awkwardly. “How was the job interview?”

It’s an act of mercy- he’s trying to save you any further misery by changing the subject. Unfortunately, you have yet to break the news to Jin; you bombed the interview. Massively. It’s not like it was even a job you were that invested in. Just a fulltime job that involved doing some admin in an office. The exact, safe, boring job your mother has dreamed of for you since coming here and the exact job Jin has been pushing you to apply for because he’s sick of his parents nagging him to lend you money or take you out for dinner or give you lifts because your car broke down and you can’t afford to fix it. But you messed it up and you hate yourself for it. Hate yourself for disappointing your mother, and, if you’re really honest with yourself, for disappointing Jin. You’re already so aware of how lowly he views you and this just makes it sting that little bit more.

But it is the exact kind of job that will slowly kill you inside. You are trying to kill the part of you deep down that longs for something more. You don’t even know what it is you want. But killing that part and settling into this world and its ways and its customs mean giving in. It means forgetting. And for thirteen entire years, you have not been able to forget. How can you, when you left a piece of yourself back there, on the battlefield where your father had lost his life for your sake? He was not even given the luxury of a grave and yet you are supposed to be comfortable and post pictures on Instagram about how happy you are and go to brunch and just enjoy life? You... you can’t do it.

“I... don’t know.” You finally say. You shrug and glance away. “It felt like it went well. We’ll see if they call me back.”

Jin visibly brightens, unaware of your lie. 

“I knew I had a good feeling about today!” He says warmly. “You’re totally going to get that job, I can feel it in my bones. Finally, my parents will get off my back!” He cheers. He probably means the last part as a joke but it’s just another sting; another reminder that Jin just sees you as a burden.

His celebration session is interrupted by an alert on his apple watch. He glances at whatever notification appear and winces. He glances at you like he’s done something wrong.

“I’ve got to go. I uh… I have a date.” He confesses. Jin is always tentative when he talks about the women he sees, like he’s anticipating some sort of reaction from you. You don’t know what reaction that would be, though, and you don’t think you’d ever feed his ego with any reaction other than a mild disgust and indifference. When you just continue to stare, he nods, more to himself than you. “I still have to sort all your paperwork to make sure you can get discharged so I probably can’t stay with you for your discharge. You don’t need a lift home, do you? I’ll probably have to drive straight there.”

Normally you would accept- though your broken bone heals faster than a human’s, it is still highly painful and inconvenient. But the thought of being in the car with Jin right now is highly unappealing. For some reason, lately when you spend time with Jin, you just feel more and more aware of how inadequate you are. You can’t help but notice the way people gravitate towards Jin. The way their eyes are constantly seeking him out or how a room brightens when he steps into it. And it’s not just his looks- it’s his everything. His demeanour, his smile, his success. He has taken to the human world like a fish to water and you just can’t. It’s not like you don’t want to. But his presence, his nagging, his constant disappointment with you… it’s a persistent, painful reminder of everything you can’t bring yourself to be. Not even for him, as much as you sincerely hate constantly disappointing him like this.

He adjusts his watch as you shake your head.

“I’ll just get the bus. I can still walk.” You say, plastering a smile on your face that hopefully seems sincere. Jin glares at you and reaches out to tap a finger against the firm plaster of your cast.

“Fine, but this stays on until tomorrow. I don’t care how fast you heal- I don’t want that leg healing crooked. Your mother will definitely notice if you suddenly have an extra bend in your shin. And no more chasing robbers- not even if it’s an old grandma with a cane being robbed. We stopped being Guardians for a reason.” He warns you. He adjusts his shirt cuffs and pulls out his phone to adjust his hair in the selfie camera before glaring at you. “I won’t tell Auntie about today because I don’t want her to worry. You can stay at mine tonight, so she doesn’t ask any questions when you hobble home in a cast.”

“Thanks.” You say and he’s oblivious to the bleak tone in your voice and the way your expression is downcast. If there’s one thing that has Jin oblivious to the rest of the world, it’s the prospect of a date. “Is the code to get in still the same?”

“I changed it to your birthday because that stupid pixie that always hangs around you worked out the code and keeps leaving my sugar open on the counter. I’m getting so many ants. I’m pretty sure he’s leaving it open for them.” Jin tells you already halfway turned around. You wisely choose not to tell Jin that you had told Jungkook the code to Jin’s apartment. Jin pauses before he can stride off. “Oh yeah. Auntie texted me- she wanted me to make sure you remember to come to dinner tomorrow and that you dress nicely. She has something important to say.”

“She could have just texted me herself.” You mumble, but Jin has already walked off, probably to sort the last of your paperwork before his date. A trail of sighing onlookers watch his departure. It just makes you scoff as you return to glaring at your cast. It itches.

You make a promise to yourself to use Jin’s kitchen scissors to remove it tomorrow so that he has at least some kind of inconvenience in his life. Nothing is more irritating than a blunt pair of kitchen scissors.

++++

Despite seeing Jin’s mother every other day, and renting the apartment directly across from her, your mother always acts like the president is coming over whenever Jin’s family comes for dinner. She pulls out the fancy glass bowls and the plates she bought with her first paycheck from the diner she was employed at when you were small. She vacuums the whole apartment and checks your room to make sure you’ve cleaned it in case Jin needs a bed to nap on after a long day at the hospital. 

She’s never quite managed to get the hang of human cuisine and since the human realm doesn’t hold the magic stores available to cook Guardian food the way that she learned, you are always the one to make dinner. You’ve never once complained because you know that on some level, this is your mother’s attempt to compensate. This is the closest you will ever get to having a community with other Guardians, and Jin’s dad is the closest thing you will ever have to a father. 

But even despite her usual frantic state whenever there’s a joint family dinner, she definitely seems more frazzled than usual. 

“Is it meant to smell like that?” She asks with a grimace, leaning in to look at the salad you’ve thrown some vinaigrette over. You glance over your shoulder from where you are checking on the food in the oven. 

“Yes, mum.” You say, standing and gently nudging her from the kitchen with a smile. “It’s vinaigrette- you liked it last time when I made it, remember? It’s why I made it tonight.” 

Your mother digs her heels into the ground before you can drive her from the kitchen and send her back to wiping the already sparkling cabinets in the living room. She turns to scrutinise you carefully. 

“Are you going to do your hair? It looks a little messy.” She frets. You raise an eyebrow. This is new. Your sweet, doting mother has never once criticised your appearance, not even when you went through that phase where you had an eyebrow piercing and dyed your hair neon green. Something is up. 

“It’s just Auntie and Uncle, right?” You say suspiciously. “They used to bathe me when we lived in magregnum, mum.” You say. Using the original term for your home realm feels foreign on your tongue and your mother’s expression shutters at the sound of her original home. 

“Well, a lot has changed since then.” She says softly. You’re about to question the strange, unfamiliar expression on your mother’s face. Something looks different about her... you squint when you recognise the shimmer of your favourite eye shadow on her lids. 

“Are you wearing makeup?” You question. Her eyes go wide, and you can’t help but notice that her lashes are curled. But her answer is interrupted by the sound of the doorbell. Your mother pales and instantly she switches back into her jittery, pre-dinner self. 

“Quickly, quickly!” She urges. “Dinner’s not ready yet!” 

You shake your head with a smile at your mother’s familiar antics. 

“It’s probably just Jin- Auntie and Uncle always make him come over earlier to help.” You call over your shoulder. You’re in a far better mood than you were yesterday, particularly after bending Jin’s kitchen scissors beyond repair during your attempts to remove the cast this morning before heading out and pretending you hadn’t been fired from your part-time job the week before. You had punched one of the senior managers for bullying the new hire. Your leg was mostly healed at that stage and Jin had told you that you could take the cast off before he left for work that morning. When you arrived back home in the afternoon, your mother had either chosen not to comment on your slight limp or had been too distracted by the stress of having dinner to notice. You are glad to have evaded her sad, disappointed eyes and the unwarranted comparisons to Jin for the day.  

After a long few moments of peace in the kitchen, you can’t help but notice the lack of an annoying presence hovering over your shoulder. Usually when Jin arrives, he makes a beeline straight for the kitchen so that he can sample whatever it is you’re making and proclaim it decent (and then try and sneak some extra portions later in the evening when he thinks you aren’t looking). The complete lack of Jin’s presence to do whatever the kitchen equivalent of back seat driving is has you pausing with a sense of unease. It is the first clue that something is up- the door opens and yet the older guardian doesn’t make an appearance. Confused, you pause midway through pouring out melted chocolate from a glass measuring cup and glance over your shoulder. 

“Minyo Dolkara,” is your mother’s tentative call and your eyes widen at the term of endearment. It is a common one back in your home realm, but your mother only uses it to comfort you when she feels you are truly upset. She is knotting her fingers anxiously together and beside her stands an unfamiliar middle-aged man. He smiles warmly at you, and your gaze lands on the arm he holds carefully around your mother’s shoulder. Your grip tightens around the handle of the measuring cup. 

“Mum?” You ask, your tone laced with confusion. “Who’s this?”

Your mother swallows nervously and glances at the man in question. 

“This is... my love.” She confesses. “Nigel. We met at my night classes and I... He...”

“I’m her fiancé.” The man, Nigel corrects. He is a friendly, round sort of man. The kind of man often seen on tv playing father to a rebellious teenage daughter in a sitcom. And his smile is warm and excited, like he’s happy to meet you. He directs that smile to your mother, and rather than look disgusted or uncomfortable, she merely beams back at him.

That’s probably what this night was for, in hindsight. And why your mother was so nervous. She planned this to introduce her new boyfriend... no, her new fiancé to you, and to Jin’s family. Dimly, in the back of your mind, you register all the unusual signs about tonight. The way she’d messaged Jin to make sure you were at the dinner despite the fact that she’s never been able to bring herself to make you do anything you don’t want to.... the way she’s been commenting on your appearance despite it never having bothered her before... how long has she kept this from you? How... how could she be seeing another man?

No words form in your mouth- instead, the face of your father hovers in your mind. After thirteen years, you can’t fully recall what he looks like and you weren’t able to bring any pictures over to the human realm with you. It has been long enough that you cannot recall his face or his voice. So, in theory, why can’t your mother meet someone new? Did you expect her to live as a widow until she died, alone and far from the home realm she grew up in? Of course, you didn’t. But for some reason, this man’s presence right now leaves a bitter sting like she’s plunged a knife into your chest.

The smile drops from Nigel’s face after a few moments of you staring blankly and his smile is replaced with concern. It takes you a while to understand it is because you have crushed the hand of the measuring cup in your tight grip. It falls to the ground and shatters, followed by a few drops of blood as red rapidly spreads over your clenched fist and lands on the ground. You haven’t used your enhanced strength in so long you almost forgot you had it. 

“Fiancé?” You echo at last and though it is your own voice, it sounds distant. Like your ears are suddenly submerged under water. You don’t know what hurts you more in that moment- the painful reminder that the world is moving on without your father... or the fact that your mum has kept such a huge secret from you for who knows how long, probably because she was scared of how you’d react. “You’re engaged?”

“(Y/N),” your mother says, taking a step forward, perhaps to comfort you. She does it tentatively, like you are a beast she needs to placate. The people in your life- at least the ones who know your true identity- often approach you like that. Slowly and hesitantly, as if they don’t know how you will react. Like you are a ticking time bomb, ready to go off and cause trouble. Which in a way, you suppose you are. Things have always been difficult with you, after all. You never settled into human schooling well and you didn’t get into a good university like Jin, and you’re always getting yourself into trouble trying to help random people off the street. And your mother, your poor placating mother, is prepared to do the same thing she always does. Apologise that you had to leave your home, that the new human world isn’t to your liking, but gently remind you that it is, in fact, your real home now.  

But you do not give her the chance to feed you the same tired lines. You’re so sick of hearing this lecture. Every time you wind up in hospital because you’ve interfered with a fight or been hit by a car trying to save a random puppy, Jin gives you the same, frustrated lecture. When you fail another interview or get fired from a new job, your mother is there to try and fail to hide her disappointment that you aren’t leading the life she’d planned for you. But not this time- this is too far. You’ve been trying to squash the part of you that is a guardian for their sake for so long now, but you cannot do it for him. For this man, this stranger, who has waltzed into your home like he owns it and announced that he’s marrying your mother. As if he has a right to just join your family. You are out the door before she or Nigel can offer a word of explanation. 

You don’t see Jin until you crash into him. He steadies you with a hand planted on either shoulder. You glance up at his face, barely registering what he looks like through the blur of tears spilling forward. For a brief moment, the sight of Jin’s face (even blurred) and the familiar set of his broad shoulders fills you with relief. Even if Jin’s always viewed you as a bit of pain, he’s always been an important person to you, always ready to provide support. But then you see the look on his face.

Jin actually winces when he sees your expression. Perhaps he is realising it’s going to be one of those nights, where he sits up on the roof with you for hours and comforts you as you spill your guts. That’s how it’s always been, after all, ever since you were a small child and would run to him when you scraped your knee instead of your own parents. You would cry and he would offer some wise words mixed in with a stern reprimand and then his parents would congratulate him for being such a good influence on you. Even when you hit high school and started to realise for the first time that Jin didn’t view you with the same adoration you viewed him, he never stopped being that person for you. The shoulder to cry on, the rock to lean on. But now, he stiffens, as if steeling himself for the explanation behind your tears and he probably already has a speech half prepared in his mind. That’s the job he delegated himself, after all. To look after you, for as long as you are alive and giving him headaches. So, if it’s always been his job to do just that, why does he look like he’s just been asked to help clean a public bathroom at the sight of you in distress? 

He... he doesn’t want to deal with you. That’s why he looks so uncomfortable. 

You feel something inside you crumple. You can’t identify what feeling it is but, in that moment, you realise something. Everyone in your life... they all view you as a burden. Your mum had delayed telling you about her boyfriend until the last possible moment because your response would be difficult to handle. Jin’s parents see you as a hopeless child that their perfect son must look after. And Jin.... well you can see from the look on his face how he views you. It reminds you of a dark day, all those years ago in high school, a memory you thought you’d pushed down, and it surfaces now, before you can push it back down like you normally do. But then you set your shoulders- you were over the things Jin had said that day, and you aren’t going to allow the way that he looks right now to be the thing that resurfaces those feelings.

You shove past him. Over the past few months, you’ve been avoiding Jin more and more as your self-esteem plummeted lower and lower but today something tips over the edge for you. You don’t know how or why it happened but at some point, Jin has stopped being the person you can turn to when things get rough. And you have just realised that he no longer wants to be that person either, which hurts far more than you ever thought it could. 

“(Y/N)!” You hear him call out to you, probably shocked that you aren’t caving immediately and telling him what’s wrong- after all, there’s probably only been one time in your life before this that you’ve done so. You ignore his call though, making a beeline for the staircase, and he does not follow you. 

The place you usually go to when misery strikes is the rooftop of your crappy apartment building. You’ve spent countless hours up on the rooftop, watching the sky. It’s oddly therapeutic- the thing you used to miss most when first moving to this realm was the stars. Back home, they sparkle different colours like precious stones scattered across black velvet. Here, the smog of humans blocks their stars from the sky. But the brightest stars are somewhat visible on clear nights and they are the closest reminder you have of home. That’s probably why you have chosen the roof as your refuge. Since beginning to take refuge here when things go bad, you’ve accumulated a small collection of old furniture from whenever your mum goes on a redecorating spree. 

What has resulted is a comfy little corner of the world you can call your own, away from everyone else. No one else seems to use this place, even if the rooftop is accessible to everyone in the complex, but that suits you just fine. It’s perfect for curling up and wallowing, much like you are desperate to do right now. There are a lot of confusing, painful emotions swirling around inside you, ones that you aren’t really sure how to deal with or process. 

You slump down against the old picnic blanket you have stretched across the floor and let your head collapse against an old cushion your mum threw out years ago and peer up at the sky. Wincing, you idly pick out pieces of glass from your hand and watch the skin seal over almost immediately as you wonder if the sky really as beautiful back home as your memory tells you it was. Or, do you just want to believe things were better in the other realm? You’re not really sure but it really would be nice to go back. Not forever- as much as you hate to admit it, your family is here now, which makes this realm your home. But you want to see the place you came from. You want to see the stars and the valleys and the rivers. The night before you and your mother fled, your father had told you that everything about Magregnum would change by the time you were old enough to go back, except the landscape. Mountains cannot move, after all. A part of you longs desperately for that- to see the things that will not change and the landscapes that could not leave your father behind. The only reminders that you aren’t just a random human washed up in the bleakness of life, but a guardian. Something special and precious. Something better than what you feel like you are.

An annoying buzzing in your ear breaks the bubble of your pondering. You blink a few times and then sigh, turning your head to the side. A small figure, no taller that the height of your handspan, stands beside you with his arms folded. Small, insect like wings flap so rapidly they are little more than flashes, catching the light of the fairy lights you’d strung across the fencing of the rooftop a few weeks ago. The figure tilts his small head to the side and at this proximity you can see the way he frowns. He always has the oddest tendency to pop up whenever you are alone and miserable and likely he is displeased to find you in such a state yet again.

“Do you ever do anything other than sulk?” The creature asks. He is a pixie, as you know from your first interaction where he had very indignantly informed you that no, he is not a cross between a mosquito and a human in-between your attempts to squash him with a fly swatter. You grimace. 

“No.” You snap, rolling onto your side to face away. Alas, the small pixie merely lifts easily into the air and sails over your face like he’s an Olympian performing high jump. He lands neatly in front of you once more and grins. 

“What happened this time?” He asks, settling down into the picnic blanket cross legged. He plants an elbow on either knee and rests his chin in his hands. The buzzing of his wings slows to a gentle flap, which allows you to discern the thin, silvery veins that lace across the delicate membranes of his wings. You’ve always secretly thought it a shame that Jungkook is just a pixie, given his handsome face and charming nature, but being a human would mean the loss of his gorgeous wings. “Did Jin ground you again?”

“He’s never grounded me before.” You snap defensively. “And even if he did, it’s not like I would listen to him. He’s not my parent.”

Jungkook shrugs, leaning back to press his weight into his hands and stretching his legs out in front of him. 

“Yes, you would.” He points out. “You always complain about Jin, but I know you always do what he says.” 

You purse your lips and sit up. Jin is one of the last people you want to talk about right now. Jungkook stands up too, launching himself into the air so that he can settle on your knee. 

“So what did Jin do this time? Change the code to his apartment again? Find out about your motorbike? Treat you to dinner?” Jungkook questions eagerly. You’ve never seen the pixie interact with another living being other than you, Jin or Taehyung (and on occasion your mother) and he had sadly informed you that he was the only one of his kind in this realm when you first met thirteen years ago. So, you have a theory that he lives out his need for drama and gossip and social interaction vicariously through you. It’s the only way to explain his constant interest in your life and the things that are making you sad. 

“It wasn’t Jin.” You finally admit, lifting your gaze once more to the sky above. “Why are you even here anyway? Did you run out of YouTube dance covers to copy?”

Jungkook nods and settles down beside you. “It’s all pointless after a while.” He says forlornly. “It’s not like humans can see me. Only guardians will ever see me dance and they don’t care. I figured I might as well talk to one sentient being before I go crazy. The moths just aren’t great conversation partners these days.” He pauses. “So, are you going to tell me what’s bothering you?”

Jungkook’s confession has your resolve crumbling. Sometimes it is easy to forget that you, Jin and Taehyung are the only people Jungkook can mix with, as a pixie in a human world. Even if humans could see him, the government would probably deport him back to the other realm the second it found out he was threatening exposure of magical beings to humans. A strange sadness on his behalf overcomes you and that is the thing that makes you willing to confess what’s bothering you. “It was... my mother.”

Jungkook is silent and when you glance down at where he is seated upon your knee, he is also gazing in wonder at the sky above. He doesn’t press further but you still somehow feel compelled to share. 

“She’s engaged.” You admit and the words feel oddly piercing amongst the soft hum of city traffic. They hang in the cool night air and suddenly the warmth of the night seems stifling rather than comfortable. 

“I thought the Q’uvar were happy when that sort of thing happened? Don’t you all have those huge festivities in your village whenever a marriage ceremony happens?” Jungkook questions. The natural way the original term for your people rolls off his tongue testifies to his origin- despite him living in the human realm, there is no doubt he comes from Magregnum, just as you do. Even when you were living in the other realm, your people would refer to themselves as guardians. Only the really old-fashioned members of your race would use the language that had slowly died out over the years as the common tongue became the norm. Not for the first time, you are curious about Jungkook and where he popped up from. Jungkook turns to look at you and tilts his tiny head. His inky black hair flops to one side with the motion. “Shouldn’t you be happy that your mother is engaged?”

The unintentional reprimand slaps you across the face and you wince. In theory, you should be thrilled that after so much difficulty and hardship settling into this realm, your mother has found a source of happiness. She has worked so hard on your behalf to make sure you grow up safe and secure in this foreign realm and so the least you can do to repay her is to be happy when she is happy. But the niggling fear that always chases you holds you back. It’s a fear of change- of the way life seems to move too fast for you to catch up. Here you are, stuck in the past when even your own mother has managed to move on and build a life for herself. 

“I should be.” You answer softly. You lift your knees and hug them close to your chest- Jungkook falls off with an indignant squawk. Moments later he rises in the air until he is eye level with you- even the buzz of his wings seems irritated. 

“Well then, why aren’t you?” He asks, but the tone of his voice implies that his patience has been lost with you. Since the moment of meeting you all those years ago, Jungkook had assigned himself as a sort of pseudo-counsellor and confidante, but it does not mean he enjoys the position. No, more often than not, he is annoyed and puzzled by your seemingly trivial problems. You kind of enjoy such an attitude though- it makes the things that feel insurmountable to you become small and insignificant. Jungkook makes you feel like problems can be overcome. This time, however, his dismissive attitude has you feeling worse. 

“Because I’m homesick.” You admit miserably. “Why does everyone seem to settle in here so well? Why am I the only one struggling? Why could everyone leave things behind so easily? How can they just pretend that they’re humans, and completely ignore the fact that they are Guardians?”

You press the palms of your hands against your eyes and release a long exhale. No one has followed you up here, after you rushed out like that. Who even knows what state your mother’s dinner is in? Hopefully she remembered to get everything out of the oven. Are they having fun without you? Is Nigel charming them, winning them over, getting them excited about the possibility of a wedding? Are they… are they really happy, in this realm? “Do you ever think about going back?” You question, after a long moment of silence. You drop your hands from your eyes.

“Sometimes.” Jungkook admits. “I wonder what it looks like now. Taehyung says it’s largely the same, it’s just the cultures and people that change.” 

You stare out across the ugly concrete buildings that the rooftop view provides you. In this realm, everything moves fast and changes quickly. In the blink of an eye, a new building can pop up down the road or an entire family can move away from their twenty-year-old restaurant and close it without any warning. Back home, you remember things being steady and unchanging. Every morning, you would rise to the same mountain ranges, to the same fringe of forest, to the same river song. The only guardian you know who has gone back is Taehyung, and he validates that impression- forests and mountains do not change. 

“I wish I had half Taehyung’s courage. I want to go back.” You confess.

Jungkook hugs his knees into his chest and mirrors your position beside you. 

“What would it achieve?” Jungkook asks curiously. You shrug, picking idly at a stray thread on your jeans. 

“Hopefully something.” You say. “I feel like I’ll never know what could happen if I don’t take the risk. I just… I feel like it’s calling me. It doesn’t want me to forget what I am. This realm doesn’t suit me because this isn’t my realm. Maybe I’ll find a place that fits over there.”

Jungkook nods sagely. A moth flaps past him and he smiles at it as it goes past.

“And what would you do once you’re there?” He questions. It does not take you long to give an answer. You’ve had this adventure mapped out in your mind since you were a miserable, homesick eleven-year-old.

“My dad used to have this phrase. “The river loves those who take the plunge.”. He’d always say it in the old tongue, and apparently it was an old guardian phrase that meant sometimes taking the risk was worth it. But apparently the phrase comes from a river to the east of our home. Dad said that the river is home to a special migrating plant, and it lights up and looks like shooting stars. They call it ‘the dancing river’. He promised to take me there, one day when the war was over.” You explain. “If rivers and mountains don’t change… then that’s that last piece of him I can find in that realm.”

“And that’s what you want to see, if you go back?” Jungkook asks. You nod and shift your position to the side of some old drawers you had rescued from your mother’s bedroom. Inside are a bunch of wrinkled old papers that you pull out and show him. 

“Taehyung always brings me back a map whenever he gets back from over there to show me how things have changed. Look.” You point at a small blue line that trickles across the painted landscape of the map. The label is written in the common tongue. “River of stars” it says in sleek cursive. You know from matching it up with an older map that the name has changed but it’s the same river your father told you about. “It’s only a five-day hike from the portal.” You point at a small mark on the map- this has Taehyung’s writing scribbled on it, marking the join between the human realm and the magical one. “I could go and just... get it out of my system. See the river. Like a road trip but in another realm.” 

Jungkook flutters over to peer at the small distance between the river in question and the portal on the map. 

“I just have to go once. Just once. And see it- see the places he loved. And then I’ll settle into this realm and get the boring job Jin and my mother want me to have and marry an equally boring human. I’ll go to her wedding and watch her pretend like my dad never existed and like I’m not a Guardian.” You tell him. “I... we didn’t even get to say good-bye, Jungkook.” 

Your voice cracks and Jungkook glances up at you in surprise. You rarely open up about your father to the pixie but he’s always curious when you do, like you’re sharing the story of an ancient war hero. Which in a way, he is. Though the war is fresh and recent in your mind, over a thousand years have passed back home, since your people roamed freely there.

“We just got word that he was dead, and we had to go, or we would be too.” You tell him, recalling the way Jin’s father had woken you two up in the middle of the night, pale as a ghost and drenched in your father’s blood. You remember running a lot that night and clinging to your mother’s hand. You had tripped and scraped your knee and you hadn’t been able to cry. And when you reached the human realm, your mother had shed a single tear and then shouldered on into your new life. No time or space to grieve. Not when there was so much uncertainty ahead. “No funeral or anything. I just... I want proof, that he was alive. I want to see the places he saw and just... I want to get a chance to say goodbye. I never even got to tell him that I love him one last time.”

Jungkook holds a hand to his chin as he ponders your words and then he looks at you. Though he is small, you can make out the dark colour of his eyes. His expression is soft and gentle. It reminds you of the look Jin used to give you when you’d come up here because the kids had made a mean comment about you not understanding their weird meme jokes or you were sad because you’d seen a kid hanging out with his father. Back before Jin had lost his patience with you, when he just got that the reason you couldn’t settle in was because of the cost it took to get to this realm safely. 

“You know it wouldn’t bring him back, right?” Jungkook asks softly. “Everything you knew about that realm faded thousands of years ago. You won’t find home there anymore than it is here. And it won’t stop your mother from getting married.”

“I know.” You answer forlornly. “But maybe things will be better if I just get to… acknowledge what I am. Even if it’s only for five days.” Jungkook stares for a long moment and then nods, his shoulders set with sudden determination. 

“Then let’s go.” He announces. You blink in surprise at his proposition. 

“Go?” You echo. He nods and straightens, planting on hand on his hip and pointing the other directly at you. 

“I am the first person to point out that you’re spoiled and selfish.” Jungkook reminds you, which has you wincing. “You don’t even know how lucky you are, to have so many people who love you. Do you know what I would give to be human? To have a friends and family like you do? And every day you spit on it. If this is what it takes for you to finally be content, then do it.” 

You frown and look away from him. 

“I don’t want to go when you put it like that.” You say, resenting the slight way your voice wobbles with hurt. You feel the slight tickle to your cheek and find Jungkook has pressed his tiny hand comfortingly to the side of your face. 

“Don’t be hurt.” He says softly. “I do know why you’re struggling.” He offers you as comfort. “And I do understand why it’s so hard. To live amongst humans every day and pretend like none of the terrible things that went down over there really happened. But in focusing on the things you’re missing, you’re missing out on the things you have.” He explains. “So, let’s go, (Y/N). Let’s go see the Dancing River and find the peace you’re looking for.”

You stare at Jungkook for a long time, before offering the slightest nod. He’s right. What’s the use of waiting and hoping and holding out for something? Why not just go and find out if seeing this river will solve any of your problems? The river loves those who take the plunge, after all.

“Let’s go, Jungkook.” You agree, with the faint hint of a smile on your face.

What you don’t see, as you converse with Jungkook, is Jin slowly closing the door to the rooftop, first aid kit in hand. He gives one last glance at the doorway, wondering if he should join you and Jungkook before shaking his head with a sigh. He turns around and makes the slow trek back downstairs with a troubled expression on his face.

[babieateez]

i’ve written and rewritten this about six times, so i really hope it’s enjoyable to read!

even before you were sorted into the house you now reside in at hogwarts, you had been inseparable from yeosang

since you were so nervous on the train ride for your first time ever, and you ended up in the same compartment and he feels bad that you’re so nervous about the upcoming night while he knows exactly what’s gonna happen for him and where he’s gonna end up-

of course he would though, he’s come from a long line of slytherins and it would just be nonsensical of him to be sorted into any other house

so he takes pity on your clearly terrified form and starts a small conversation to keep your mind off the upcoming events, talking about anything that comes to either of your minds

soon you find yourselves laughing loudly, all apprehension gone and now you just feel like you have a friend you’re happy to be around

even as the group of first years gets herded to the great hall, you find yourself sticking to yeosang, and he makes sure that you’re not going to get swallowed by the crowd of first years that engulf the halls

at one point you both realize that there’s a growing gap between the two of you, and you’re forcefully being separated by the masses of excited students

and in desperation you reach out and grab onto yeosang’s hand like a lifeline, pulling you back to his side while still having his fingers interlocked with yours without even realizing

that’s how your story with kang yeosang began

throughout your first year, you and yeosang grew closer and closer, likely aided by the fact that you shared most of your classes

and had more than your fair share of trips to the infirmary together

when you began second year, it’s almost like you were having even more fun spending time with your best friend, and every year was the same after that

until sixth year when you came back from the summer holiday to search for yeosang on the train in the same compartment you manage to snag every year

when you arrive and look inside, you have to do a double take because holy shit-

that can’t be the yeosang you’ve known for six years!!

maybe someone had put some sort of charm on him that caused his stature to have filled out and his hair to no longer just be a mop on the top of his head

and maybe someone else had transfigured his previously rather skinny arms to have some form of muscle hugging them, looking rather attractive

the way his robes fit him this year really was something else and-

he clears his throat with amusement clear on his suddenly unbearably handsome face and you can’t help but blush and look away sharply while getting yourself situated in the compartment

he definitely notices but decides to spare you the teasing in favor of asking how the trip to the train station was

instead of responding to the question, you blab out your own question, asking him what the hell happened to him over the summer??

he laughs now at your clearly flustered reaction to his new look and tells you that he was exercising a lot during the holiday and had been taking care of his appearance more than usual because, as he says

how else is he supposed to find a significant other before graduating any other way?

it’s a valid point, your brain tells you- after all, you had done something similar just the year prior, but at least you didn’t leave yeosang in the dark about it for the whole summer!!

but your stomach isn’t quite sure it agrees with your brain, for it starts churning with some sort of foreign emotion

you dismiss it as the lurching start of the train as you embark on the long journey to the castle and you don’t think about that weird feeling again

until about a week into the term, when one of your classmates approaches you after you’re dismissed

although you’ve never met her before, you still greet her with a friendly voice and ask what’s up and when you hear what she asks you

your smile freezes on your face and you can’t pinpoint why but when she asks you since you’re such good friends with yeosang, if you could put in a good word about her

since she thinks he’s so hot now and she keeps blathering on about how everyone in her year is trying to get a date with him to hogsmeade

you stop listening somewhere around that point to mumble out a “yeah, i’ll talk to him for you” and she smiles even wider at you and claps her hands together while shooting you a “thank you!!” as she leaves the classroom

but once you’re alone (minus the professor still standing in the classroom) you feel that weird feeling in the pit of your stomach again, the same feeling you had on the train and you just pass off the feeling as being hungry, since you hadn’t eaten yet

so you finish packing up your items and meander to the great hall for dinner where your dormmates try to pull you into their conversation about whatever the new gossip in the house was

but you can’t focus on their words, instead choosing to nibble on the corner of the sandwich you had grabbed from one of the platters on the table

when suddenly you hear a voice calling your name, breaking you out of your spaced out state

you look up from your food to spot yeosang sitting right beside you with a look of concern painting his features and you brush off his questions of “are you alright?” and “you look upset, is there anything wrong?” with a shake of your head

and finally, after what seems like half an hour of questioning he decides to drop the subject, instead telling you about how his classes that day were, and asking you about yours once he finished giving you a synopsis of his day

you’re reminded once more about your classmate asking you for that favor- but that is was yeosang wanted after all, it would be a bad move to not try to help out your friend like that

so you plaster the most convincing smile you can on your face while you tell him about the ravenclaw girl who was probably in fifth year asking about going to hogsmeade with him

he cuts you off before you can try to recall her name with a laugh saying that he’s not really interested in her, since he already has someone who’s caught his eye

and this time the feeling you get in your stomach is increased tenfold, and you feel like someone has knocked the wind out of you, or just sent a stupify hurling towards you and it’s crazy how you can almost feel the blood drain out of your face

but once more you tell yourself that you’re excited to see who he has a crush on

so you put on a mischievous smile and nudge him in the side asking him who the lucky person is and you keep ignoring the feeling of bile in your throat rising when you see a delicate blush appear on his cheeks as he refuses to answer you

even though you don’t particularly care to hear his answer, you keep pestering him, even after you both depart from the great hall and go to your common rooms and as you finally say goodnight to him, you let him know that whoever it is he has his eyes on, you hope they make him happy

and without missing a beat, he replies “they do”

you can’t sleep at all that night with your thoughts floating around in your brain, persistently bothering you with “what-ifs” you’d rather ignore

but as you toss and turn in the four-poster bed, one thought sticks with you perhaps a bit too much, asking you if you have a crush on kang yeosang, your best friend of six years

and as much as every rational bone in your body tries to deny it, you can’t dismiss the feeling of your heartbeat speeding up every time you see him and the gross feeling you get when he mentions liking other people, or when other people mention liking him

and oh god the puzzle pieces are coming together and it’s like every fiber of your being is screaming “how did it take you THIS LONG to finally notice that you’re head over heels for yeosang????”

after this thought you only have one more, telling you that you have to get over him, no matter what

it’s a stupid, impulsive, irrational thought but you only want the best for him and if he’s happy, then you’re happy

so you set yourself to making a plan consisting of finding someone else to fill the yeosang-shaped space in your heart

after about three weeks, that “someone else” comes in the form of park seonghwa, one of the seventh year slytherin boys whose sly looks and sexy smirks entice you just enough to find yourself frequenting empty classrooms after curfew with him

with your body pressed against his and his hands on your waist and your lips against each other’s and you try to convince yourself that you could fall in love with him

but you both know that these are mindless sessions of teenage lust and nothing more than self indulgence but you still can’t help but fall into the trap of seonghwa’s pretty words falling from his pretty lips

and the way his eyes linger on your form slightly longer than normal in the hallways or during classes

they almost convince you that you’re over yeosang- that is, until yeosang opens up the doors to the abandoned classroom where you and seonghwa are making out past curfew

you catch the gleam of the prefect badge on yeosang’s robes as you and seonghwa jump apart from each other, and yeosang’s eye immediately go to yours, the shock evident on his face as he addresses the two of you

telling you that you’re not allowed out after curfew, and he’ll need to take house points away if it happens again to which seonghwa nods, but you just move your gaze to the floor

too ashamed to keep looking at yeosang until he grabs you by the arm, and you look up to notice that seonghwa has left, presumably after yeosang told him to

and he begins leading you back to your dorm and the first few minutes progress in silence but after a bit, yeosang slows to a stop, asking you what was going on between you and seonghwa

you can’t just tell him that you’re so in love with your best friend that you’re doing everything in your power to forget about it

so you shrug, saying it’s nothing but yeosang doesn’t buy it- he knows the look on your face means you’re lying so you tell him about as much of the truth as you can muster without crying

telling him that the guy you’re basically in love with is interested in someone else and since you wish them happiness, you’re doing your best to move on

he feels the raw emotion in your voice and he knows how you feel, he knows because he just walked in on the person he fancies making out with another man so he just lets it go for the rest of the night

until the first hogsmeade trip of the year comes up and you’re complaining vaguely about not having a date

one of your dormmates points out that she’s seen the looks seonghwa had been giving you until she suddenly shuts her mouth while looking over your shoulder

you turn and see yeosang standing behind you and he grabs you by the arm and you hardly have time to notice how disheveled his hair is and how his button up isn't quite tucked as neatly as usual into his pants and how there seem to be bags under his eyes but you do catch it, and just attribute it to him being tired from his prefect rounds the night before

but when he pulls you to a corner of the courtyard where you’re waiting for the carriages and his voice is husky when he admits quietly to you that he was hoping that you’d be his date to hogsmeade

but if you wanted to go to hogsmeade with seonghwa instead, he would understand

your heart starts racing because yeosang is admitting that he wants to go on a date with you to hogsmeade???????

it almost seems unreal and you have to gape at him until you remember how to speak, at which point you manage to get out the question of “what about the person you like?”

his face gets more red than you’ve ever seen it, and if salazar slytherin were able to see yeosang right now, he’d sneer at the sheer amount of emotion on the boy’s face

and yeosang is now the one gaping at you before he remembers he can speak

this time he’s the one to splutter out “i mean, i was kind of talking about you”

you’re not even able to process exactly what’s going on except for how your face feels like it’s burst out into flames and your tongue feels like it’s three times heavier than it should be

but when yeosang tells you once more that he was talking about you and he’s totally infatuated with you, it feels like every positive emotion ever felt has flooded into your system

so powerful that without even thinking, you launch yourself at yeosang and into his arms and you’ve both hugged before but now you feel even more at home than usual-

it feels like a warm blanket of happiness is draped on top of you, protecting you from the falling snow and the cold settling in your bones is blasted away with the amount of affection you feel for yeosang

there are so many thoughts going through your head about him that you can hardly feel how his arms have wrapped tightly around you and are gently swaying you from side to side and you feel his warm breath against your ear as he whispers gently into your ear “so does this mean you want to go with me to hogsmeade?”

you can hear the smirk in his voice, one of the most annoyingly endearing things about the sly slytherin so you glare up at him with an expression of fake exasperation and roll your eyes

responding by telling him that you were gonna say yes, but if he keeps being a pain, you might consider going with seonghwa instead

and he knows you’re teasing but he can’t help but feel a tug in his chest telling him to not let you even look at anyone else the way you look at him

so he pulls you closer against his chest and grumbles that he’d hex seonghwa if you went to hogsmeade with him and the protectiveness in his voice makes you smile

but eventually you have to pull away from him and he sighs at the lack of contact but you’re quick to entwine your fingers with him and pull him to the carriages so you don’t miss the opportunity to go to the beautiful village with yeosang

you find the carriage with your friends in it who think nothing of the way you’re holding yeosang’s hand but do think something of the way you’re leaning extra into his side and the quick kiss he plants on your temple

so they giggle and ask if you two lovebirds finally got together and it’s obvious by the way your faces start burning

because you thought your touches were slick but nobody’s missing it when you finally arrive at hogsmeade, you break away from your friends to enjoy your time with your date

(mostly consisting of finding empty alleyways to shyly hold each other)

and you can say with certainty that no date you’ve ever gone on has felt as right as that one did and yeosang feels the same way

his chest filled with nervous butterflies every time you snuggle your face into the crook of his neck or his hair or every time he feels your fingers curl around his or every time you pout at him and your lips look so enticing but he’s a gentleman (and also maybe a little shy about kissing you)

but at the end of the day, you’re both tuckered out from the day’s activities and you fall asleep on his shoulder on the way back to the castle

he’s so endeared by the way your mouth hangs open slightly and how your fingers are still grasping onto his and after what feels like not enough time, you’re back at the castle

he gently shakes you awake and you whine about being so sleepy and he brushes any stray hairs that may fallen in your face out of the way and tells you that he could leave you to sleep all night in the carriage

but you protest with sleep still in your voice and who is he to leave you alone so he gently helps you out of the carriage and walks you to the dungeons where the slytherin dorms are

and tells you that you can sleep in his bed tonight, which you’ve both done before, but only when you were best friends and this is new territory

before you can think about it too much, yeosang’s soft voice interrupts your train of thought, asking you sweetly if you’d like to be his, and he could be yours and without a second of hesitation, you’re nodding your head, saying yes, of course and leaning into him once more for a hug

he pulls back after a few seconds and asks you one more thing-

if you would be okay with him kissing you now and who are you to tell him no when you’ve been enticed by his lips every waking second of the day

once more you nod your head with hearts in your eyes and it feels like the yeosang shaped hole in your heart has finally been entirely filled, feeling the way his lips are against yours and you swear you can feel your heart beating out of your chest because this is nothing like other kisses you’ve had

it’s one of pure adoration and affection and love and you think you’d like to live the rest of your life kissing yeosang

until you hear a voice in the hallway saying “i can’t believe they’re finally together” and you all but leap away from yeosang in surprise to see two of his dormmates, mingi and san, standing right outside of the common room

as they laugh at your reactions, they turn to walk away and you swear you hear mingi saying to san “you owe me ten galleons” and san cussing at the boy but still begrudgingly handing over the money

that’s when yeosang decides to whisk you away to his dorm, his weary body feeling heavier and heavier with every step he takes to his bed, and you both curl up on the four-poster

but this time, yeosang holds you as close to his body as you can get, flicking the curtains around the bed closed as he presses what feels like ten million kisses gently into your skin

with each one getting softer and softer until he’s drifted off to sleep and everything feels so right, everything feels like it was never supposed to be otherwise

you both almost convince yourselves that it was just a really elaborate dream until you wake up to the gentle shuffling of yeosang’s dormmates waking up

and the warm chest you feel pressed against your back reminds you that it wasn’t a dream, it’s real and it will stay real and

so you turn in yeosang’s hold and gently pepper kisses across his face like freckles and when he finally wakes you can see the look of recognition in his eyes

but you don’t stop littering his face with kisses, basking in the feeling of loving and being loved until it seems that yeosang has had enough and captures your lips against his in a sleepy kiss that tells you “good morning” and “i love you” and “i’m so glad you’re mine”

and you hope that he’s able to feel the same thing from you which he totally does and he thinks he’s addicted to the feeling of you being in his arms and his lips being against your skin and the hushed words of affection you were sharing with him

he decides that he’s just addicted to you, the one person who will always make him weak at the knees with the slightest smile and you’re both basking in the feeling of each other

until the curtains are ripped open by san, that asshole, laughing heartily at finding you and yeosang being so affectionate so early in the morning

so you make the executive decision that day that unless the dorm is empty, you won’t be kissing yeosang in there anymore

but with the sly boy being as deviously smart as he is, he uses his prefect privileges to go out after curfew and find an abandoned classroom to kiss you in without getting into trouble

you can’t even say you’re surprised that he thought of that (after all, he’s found his fair share of students during his rounds, you included, doing the same thing)

however you are shocked at how bold he is with his touches and kisses in public, making sure others know you’re his, but you’re pretty sure everyone knows from the cold glares he sends towards anyone approaching you

and from the way that you’ll sometimes have a hickey peeking out from the collar of your shirt that you forgot to conceal

but from the way your friends mimic some of the sickly sweet words you and yeosang have been caught sharing, you’re not sure anyone is convinced that yeosang is actually a mean, bad slytherin

you’re definitely never going to think he is, in fact you firmly believe that he’s the softest man ever, sometimes waking up next to you in the middle of the night just to whisper into your temple that he loves you so much that sometimes he feels like his heart is going to burst

even after the summer holiday begins and you won’t be able to see your boyfriend every day, he uses the floo network to travel to your house regularly

and go on sweet dates with you and sometimes he’ll stay the night (much to the displeasure of your father, who insists that your boyfriend should absolutely not be staying the night in your room)

when you arrive back at hogwarts with yeosang as head boy, you think your father would have a heart attack since you sleep in the head boy’s single room almost every night but he doesn’t have to know-

after all, the only things you’d be able to inform him about are the whispered words of love and enchantment between the two of you during the nights and the way that you wake up wrapped in each other

you swear that yeosang is the best blanket and pillow ever and with the way he wakes you up with kisses and sweet nothings murmured into your ears and love in your heart, you’d also have to say that he’s the best alarm clock and the best boyfriend anyone could ever have