#[[ and if we're lucky he's dead next year :)

[neverendingford]

,

[happilykrispypirate]

Don't touch her

Pairings: Mattheo Riddle x hufflepuff!reader

Warnings: Swearing, violence, blood, tw! abuse, bullying, and my shitty writing

Summary: Y/n has two older brothers in Ravenclaw. Both are little entitled shits that love treating their sister like shit. When Mattheo finds out when they take it too far... Well, we all know what he'll do.

A/n: @victoriapedroza thank you for requesting! Im sorry if u didn't want me to make the reader a hufflepuff, I just thought it was a good idea. It's not my best, but do let me know what you think of it.

-

Y/n smiled happily as she saw Mattheo waiting for her after class.

"Hi love," Mattheo smiled as Y/n came to a stop in front of him, he pecked her lips before taking her hand in his as they walked down the corridors to the Great Hall for lunch, "How was class?"

"Great! I helped Hagrid with the nifflers and one of the babies gave me a gold coin. Have you ever heard of anything like it? A niffler giving instead of taking something shiny. I feel honoured," Y/n smiled brightly.

Mattheo felt a warm feeling bubbling in his chest as he watched her smile brightly.

"That's amazing, baby," He said kissing the side of her head.

"What's also amazing is that I heard a certain someone won the potions competition again," She smirked as she eyed her boyfriend, "Another vial of liquid luck that is going to collect dust?"

"Why would I need liquid luck if I have my lucky charm right here?" Mattheo smiled as he brought their hands up to his lips and kissed the back of her hand.

"You're cute, you know that?" She smiled kissing his cheek, "Oh! I completely forgot I have herbology next. I have to go get my books. I'll see you at lunch. Tell Pansy that she has to finish that story that she told me earlier."

"I will," Mattheo smiled before kissing her, "Now hurry back."

Y/n smiled at him before she hurried towards the hufflepuff common room. When she rounded the corner she bumped straight into someone.

"Watch where you're going!" She looked up and saw Gavin and Phillip, her two older brothers. Phillip was the oldest and Gavin was only a year under him. (Btw, the years might not make sense. However we're here for the story, not math)

"Oh, it's you," Phillip said.

"Sorry, I was in a hurry. I have to get my her-"

"Yeah, we don't care," Gavin said interrupting her.

Y/n stood up and brushed her robes off, "No need to be rude," She mumbled.

"What was that?" Phillip asked harshly.

"Nothing, forget it. I'm going," She said and started to walk off before she was pulled back and pushed up against the wall.

"You've been lucky until now, you little bitch," Phillip spat, "That little boyfriend of yours has always been around. Where's he now, huh?"

"Let me go," Y/n begged, tears threatening to fall.

"Aww is little Y/n going to cry?" Gavin said mockingly.

Phillip then laughed, "I'll give you something to cry about," He said before he threw her on the ground and she landed against one of the pillars. He then proceeded to kick her in the stomach.

She went to grab her wand but Gavin stepped on her wrist. She cried out in pain.

"Don't even think about telling anyone, or you're dead," He spat before the two of them walked away.

Y/n had to move quickly to get to the common room and back to the Great Hall, all the while making sure there was no evidence, just so that Mattheo and the rest don't get suspicious.

"You took a little longer than expected, love," Mattheo said as she plopped down next to him, "Everything alright?"

"Yeah, just had to look for it," Y/n said, "Room's a bit of a mess."

"As always," Mattheo said chuckling.

Y/n smiled at her boyfriend and kissed him before pulling away and looking at Pansy who was in front in of her explaining the story she had told earlier. Just behind her, on the other side of the hall sat Gavin and Phillip who were both glaring at her.

She immediately turned away.

-

It was a few days later the bruises on Y/n's hip and wrist got worse and were sore. So, sore that she couldn't move without cringing in pain. Something she had to do internally because she couldn't show it, she didn't want Mattheo or anyone else to find out.

Thank Merlin, it was winter, or they would've gotten suspicious if she wore a long sleeved shirt.

She sat with the rest of the Slytherin gang in the Slytherin common room. She was allowed to be there. She insisted on getting permission instead of sneaking in all the time and risk getting caught and getting detention.

"I'm so ready for the weekend," Enzo said, "I can't wait to get fucked."

"Fucked as in fucked or drunk and high?" Theo asked.

"Both," Enzo said.

"I could do with a drink right now," Pansy said.

"I can help with that," Y/n smirked as she stood up. Mattheo glanced at her confused, and as she stood up her shirt lifted slightly and he could see the big purple bruise.

Y/n then pulled two bottles firewhiskey from her bag.

"Holy fuck," Enzo laughed as he took one of the bottles from her, "Hufflepuff's becoming one of us."

"Shut up, I just thought we needed something to make us feel better," She smiled as she sat back down.

She went to open the bottle but her wrist pained. Mattheo watched as she struggled and saw the bruise.

"Looks like I'm not strong enough, you want to help me babe?" She asked smiling as she held out the bottle to him.

Mattheo took the bottle from her and opened it. Deciding to ask her later and not in front of everyone.

Later then came as Mattheo was walking Y/n back to the hufflepuff common room.

"Love," Mattheo said.

"Yeah?" She replied looking over at him.

"Why are their bruises on your wrist and hip?" He asked.

Y/n's heart began to quicken.

"Uh," She said before laughing nervously, "I was holding a bag that was stacked full of books. I was cleaning my dorm of course and then I bumped into the table. Guess I'm a little fragile."

Mattheo nodded, not believing her. She knew Mattheo didn't believe her, and she was glad he didn't asked anymore questions.

-

Y/n once again forgot her book in her room, and the same thing happened last time. She bumped into her brothers.

This time, she didn't submit to defeat like she has always done. This time, she pulled her wand out.

"Ohh, someone's brave," Gavin said as he pulled his wand out.

Y/n looked around to see if anyone was coming. Why was the hall always empty when she runs into them?

"Just leave me alone," She said as she started to back away.

"How could we? You keep bumping into us. You need to stop running down the halls, forgetting your books," Phillip said.

"We should teach you something about that," Gavin said.

"Like... this!" Phillip then shot a spell at her but she deflected it.

Then Gavin shot a spell and she deflected it.

Soon both started shooting spells trying to disarm her. She couldn't take much because it wasn't long before her wand was thrown to the other side of the corridor.

"Now, you should know not to pull your wand on your older brothers," Phillip said, "Crucio."

Y/n fell to the ground and screamed in pain. Gavin walked up to her and started kicking her. He even threw in a punch. In her face.

"Alright that's enough," Phillip said and all the pain stopped.

Y/n felt like she could breathe again and coughed for air, and there was blood when she coughed.

"Oh that's fucking disgusting," Gavin cringed.

"Come on, let's go before someone comes along," Phillip said before they vanished down the corridor.

That's the last thing she saw before she passed out.

"I wonder what's taking Y/n so long?" Pansy said. Lunch was almost over and Y/n stilled hadn't returned.

"I'm going to go find her," Mattheo said as he stood up.

"See you guys later then," Theo said before Mattheo walked out of the Great Hall.

He rounded the corner and at the end he saw someone lying on the ground.

"Y/n," He realised as he ran over to her. She was beaten up badly. He gently picked her up before running to the Hospital Wing.

-

"Who would do such a thing?" McGonagall asked Dumbledore as they stood in front of the hospital bed that Y/n was laying in. Mattheo sat next to her, he refused to move until she woke up.

"There are many that envy her," Dumbledore said, "But none that would hurt her like this."

"Well obviously someone did, we have to find out who. There is no place for bullying in this school," McGonagall said before they left.

It wasn't long after that, that Y/n opened her eyes.

"Shit," She said as she realised where she was.

Mattheo's eyes shot up, "Hey," He said once he saw she was awake, "I'm here."

Y/n turned her head to him, "Hey," She said.

"Love, who did this to you?" He asked, "Don't lie to me this time. I know when you lie."

Y/n sighed, "Gavin and Phillip," She said, "They've been doing this for years. Gotten worse and worse."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Mattheo asked.

"They're my brothers. I'll never escape them," She said.

Mattheo remained silent. He only remained calm for her, but he wasn't going to hold back the next time he sees them.

-

A week later Y/n was healed. Mattheo never left her side.

They were all sitting outside under the big tree in the courtyard. It was a peaceful day.

However that peacefulness didn't last long because Gavin and Phillip arrived.

Mattheo glared at them before he stood up from his where he sat and walked over to them.

"Oh dear," Y/n sighed as she watched Mattheo punch Phillip.

"What the fuck dude?" Gavin said before he himself got punched.

"Don't you ever fucking touch her again," Mattheo said as he kept throwing punches at Gavin. Phillip tried to pull him off but instead got himself landed under Mattheo receiving multiple punches.

"We should probably stop him," Pansy said.

"Nah, this is fun," Y/n said.

"What in Godric's name is going on out here?" McGonagall asked as she rushed outside. Mattheo got up and glared at the two boys whose faces were covered in blood.

"Just making sure these two never hurt touch their sister again," He said.

"They're the ones that hurt her?" McGonagall asked and Mattheo nodded, "I'd like to see you two in my office the second you're out of the hospital wing. You'll also get 3 months of detention. Every day."

McGonagall then turned to Mattheo, "As for you Mr Riddle. Five points will be taken from Slytherin for your act, but 25 points will be rewarded for standing up for your peers," McGonagall gave Y/n a wink before she disappeared with the two bloodied up boys behind her.

Mattheo walked back over and sat down again before pulling Y/n into her arms and kissing the side of her head, "That'll teach them never to touch my girl ever again."

[cosmocup1d]

Notes : reader has no gender

'And I am the idiot with the painted face

In the corner, taking up space'

After that weird strange book everyone seems to forgot what happened

Accept you

But you kept your mouth shut as you didn't wanted to be questioned as you felt so tired

Yet giddy at the same time

But they did wonder where you got the round black shaded glass

'But when he walks in, I am loved, I am loved'

You and the group walk in the gates of night Raven collage with the main Street being decorated with pumpkins and candles

The colors of the pumpkin and the flame of the candle reminded you of his eyes

'Me and my husband'

"What! So many!?" A familiar voices gasp out making you and the group turn seeing the headmage with a... Huge package?

You just prayed to the seven it wasn't another task so that you could research him

'We're doing better'

"Could it be that were out together happily? What a miracle!" The headmaster said with his normal joyful tone "I just happened to meet everyone except for Trey outside" The dormleader of the heartslabyul cuts in

"Even if everyone was out together, there's no need to make a fuss about it" The dormleader of the pomfiore huffed "What's the headmage doing?" Epel said "he's carrying a huge package..." Epe pointed out

'It's always been just him and me, together'

"Oh, good you asked!" The headmage said "I found an old portrait while I was organized the storeroom..." He explained "This is it" The headmage then started to carefully tear the paper

'So I bet all I have on that'

"This person in the picture is from long before I came to Night Raven college" The headmage started to explain "He is a graduate of our school from hundreds of years ago" He carefully rip the paper as to not damage the package "halloween, which was a very minor event back then, was made known a over the world" As he continues to explain you felt a sense of deja vu

'Furrowed brow'

"It is said that he is the one who laid the foundation for the Halloween celebration that you enjoy every year..." As the headmage continue to rip the paper you saw a very familiar suit which made your heart skip a beat

Not from giddy no.. From nervousness

'And at least in this lifetime'

"His name..."

'Please don't tell me it's him.. Please..' You thought to yourself as your mouth felt dry "Is Skully J. Graves"

'We're sticking together'

You wanted to cry. You wanted to scream. Everything felt so dizzy at the point you block out everyone voice

'Me and my husband'

Dead. He's dead. For hundred of years. Yet you didn't let your tears slip. You took out the round black shaded glasses and putting then on

'We're sticking together'

The world was- no IS cruel. Especially to you. You couldn't focus on anything but lucky there was no classes as it was Halloween

You yawned as you lift up the glasses to rub your eyes as it was getting late

'Me and my husband'

You enter the ramshackle dorm as the ghosts greeted you kindly as usual but they were curious about the glasses which you replied

"Someone gave them to me" It wasn't true but it wasn't a lie either

They just nod as they disappear into thin air leaving you alone. You yawn again as you get ready for bed

'We're doing better'

You layed on the old bed as grim sleep next to you like always

You took off the glasses and carefully putting them on your nightstand as you yawn and turning off your lamp

It took a few minutes but you fell asleep but not before seeing the silhouette of your beloved king of Halloween

[natailiatulls07]

Can you do part 2 of it’s okay please 🙏

It's okay Pt.2

Arthur Leclerc Charles Leclerc Lorenzo Leclerc Pascale Leclerc & Leclerc!reader

Summary - In order to find her way in life, Y/n Leclerc runs away in the dead of night only leaving a note

Warning - Y/n being very anxious

A/n - You asked so you shall receive lol 😚

People in screenshots above (Not a tag list xx) -

@dreamerrosie @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @alldaysdreamers

-

Eventually Charles managed to lead Y/n to the passenger seat of the ferrari, if the two were seen together the paparazzi would have a field day.

The car journey was silent but comfortable. Every so often Charles would glance over to his sister, taking in her puffy eyes, sniffly nose and tear lines where they ran through her delicate makeup.

He really did miss Y/n. The days, weeks, months and years after her disappearance, everyone in the family could feel that missing piece. Her.

There was so much he wanted to say. So much to ask her. Charles' mind raced no pun intended. "How are you?" His voice broke that silence, but he couldn't wait. He had waited long enough.

There was small hesitation before Y/n soft voice spoke up. "Y-Yeah good, I um..." She stops, taking in a deep breath before chuckling. Confusing Charles. "I actually came back to Monte C to um...see you guys again, I missed you guys..."

It took him a few seconds for that to sink in before Charles spoke again. "Really?" He laughed, somewhat not believing his little sister.

Smiles captured both of their lips, Y/n nodding laughing along with Charles. "Yeah, I guess my plan sort of worked out..."

"Well you're lucky chérie, everyone is going round Mamans tonight..." Surprise filled her face, her luck this evening was immaculate. "I was at Lorenzos to pick up some bits and then you called"

-

They pulled up to Pascales house, and a wave of tears wash off Y/n. It was the first time in years since she had been home, the place where she took her first steps.

The white front door and the beige shutters, everything all still there. Y/n thoughts were interupted by the voice of her brother. "Oh I guess we're the last ones here. You ready for this princesse?"

With a nod and a deep breath, Y/n climbed out of the Ferrari. Walking up to the front door; she was messing with her hair, clean down her outfit and wiping away any smugged makeup. This was the first she would see her family after so long, she wanted to make a good impression.

Charles walking slightly ahead of her, chuckling softly at her. "You know they won't care what you look like. I mean you could walk in wearing a trash bag and a birds nest for hair and we'd still be happy to see you..."

It's true. She had been gone for so long that the family would do anything to hug Y/n and talk to her again. Her hands slowly lower from her hair, nodding cautiously.

Side by side they both walk up to the front door. Charles doesn't even knock or ring the doorbell, he just walks in. "Maman? Arthur? Enzo?" He shouts through the house, wondering where they are. The two siblings hear a faint shout from their mother.

"In the kitchen Charlie"

It was like time stood still for Y/n. She hadn't heard her mothers voice in such a long time, and oh how she missed it. Tears clouded over her eyes.

A rough hand slipped into hers, Charles was now leading the almost frozen Y/n to the kitchen. As they walk through the hallway, she notices how alongside photos of Charles, Lorenzo and Arthur are pictures of Y/n. And not just old photos before she ran away, no photos from her career.

One photo she takes notice of is from when she was in Swan Lake as Odette, the Swan princess.

They're just outside the kitchen when Charles turns to Y/n. He smiles gently, looking into her glossy eyes. "Let's do this yeah?" And with that, he walks her into the kitchen.

Pascale looks up from the chopping board expecting to see Charles but stops when she spots Y/n stood next to him with glistening eyes. Arthur turns from the fridge and stops mid sentence. "Charles, did I tell you about-"

Theres a heavy silence in the room, only interupted by Pascale dropping the knife and rushing over to her daughter. The two female collide into a hug, both sobbing.

Lorenzo and Charles connect eyes, both happy that Y/n is back home. "Oh maman, Je suis désolé, tu me manques..." The rest of the family hear Y/n's voice crack, and they all swear they feel their hearts crack slightly.

Y/n feels Pascale shaking her head. "C'est bon, c'est bon bébé" Pulling away from the hug, she cups Y/n's wet cheeks. Eyes taking in the grown womens features. But their silent interaction is cut short by Arthur lightly moving his mother out of the way.

He takes his little sister into his arms and spins her round, laughing loudly and cheerfully. "Oh my god you're back! You're back!" Arthur puts her down after a few spins. "I can't believe you're back!"

Y/n smirks slightly and replies back to him. "Best believe it!" Which earns her a playful slap on the shoulder. Arthur steps back and the now reunited family gather around the kitchen island. "I miss you guys, I actually came back to see you guys again..." Biting her lip slightly, Y/n waits for their response to her comment.

Smiling softly, Charles laughs. "Well I don't know about anyone else but I feel honoured. Y/n Leclerc, pro ballet dancer takes the liberty to visit her family" The kitchen lights up in laughter whilst he moves across the isle and give the young female a side hug.

"Get used to me Cha Cha, I'm on break for the summer"

~

yourusername

Surprise! I am a Leclerc girl oops <3

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-

[hollyhomburg]

Before I Leave You (Pt.66)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: Wolves always go for the throat, whether they’re cornered or hunting.

Tags: Blood, Guns, violence, near death experiences, everyone lives nobody dies...but someone does die this chapter, horror, non-lethal injury, talks of death and dying, a bit of body horror, Trans! tae, Tae is briefly dead named in this, implied/referenced intimate partner violence, flashbacks, brief suicidality.

W/c: 8.3k

A/N: ahhhhhh <3 we're finally ready for this part of the story <3 i wonder what your guys reactions will be, i'm really glad i decided to split this chapter into two peices! it's much cleaner this way. don't be 🥲 too mad at me.

Previous part - Masterlist - First part

(Four years prior, Hoseok)

Today is the day that Hoseok will meet his future pack, he just doesn’t know it yet.

It always feels like a bit of betrayal but the worst and best days of your life often come close together. Maybe just for contrast. A bit of good in the bad. A slice of cake in a feast of raw meat.

This starts as just another bad day in a long stretch of shitty days. The kind of days were anxiety bubbles up and how afraid you are is all you can think about. Taking one breath and then another like just staying alive means you're guaranteed to get better.

The only place to go from rock bottom is up, and hoseok's sneakers are firmly on the concrete, standing outside of the record store in the rain with no place to go.

Hoseok has been afraid for a long time. He can't really remember even if he thinks hard, the last morning he woke up not afraid.

What hoseok really needs is a day off, but he really can't fucking afford it. He can't afford anything- certainly not a one-bedroom apartment on his own. If he's really really lucky maybe he'll be able to find a closet room somewhere that will cost almost his whole paycheck. Because after today-

After today, Jung Hoseok will be homeless, packless, and alone. His pack dropped the news on him last night…or well ex-pack.

He doesn’t expect that he’ll be moving into the pack's house on this rainy day, he doesn't expect that by the end of the week, he won't be worrying about where his next meal will come from because Jin will be there with it ready. Jimin sometimes too.

He won't be worrying about where he'll sleep because the bed in their spare room that smells like tae tae tae will be his. He'll roll around in it when the door is closed, shy about it because Hoseok has never liked other alpha's scents so much before. And when he comes home and Jungkook has made a nest in it, it will feel like a bit of an impossible silver lining, a bit too much- to have an omega making him a nest, making something special just for him

It takes three weeks for Namjoon to make him a house key for himself. After he gets left outside in a very similar storm to this. The doctor will touch his cheek, thumbing at the dimples that they share. how special is it that each smile gets cradled like a crescent moon? the heavens have left imprints on both of their skin. Freckles for stars and dimples for moon's.

"I don't want you to get sick pup."

"People don't get sick from wet heads anymore hyung."

"They don't. But I want to keep you dry and comfortable in my den. i know you still want to look for apartments but...what if you didn't?"

But neither the weather nor Hoseok knows to prepare for good news. Right now the heavens open up and release its deluge, thick rain the way that only happens at the start of summer. Worms and other wriggly things crawl their way out of their holes to find a good spot to die next to Hoseok's shoes. Worn fancy sneakers that his pack-omega had gotten him a few months ago for their anniversary. They're the nicest thing he's ever owned.

His ex-pack omega.

It's hard to rewire your brain, especially for alpha's. Hoseok is a lone wolf. He hasn't been without a pack in so long, it feels weird to not have someone to call, someone he needs to trail after and cling to. He checks his phone but he doesn't have a single notification from them.

He doesn't have a single notification from anyone.

Hoseok is glad he doesn't feel his instincts as keenly as other alphas do. Otherwise, he might be inclined to gnash his teeth at the people who pass by him on their way to work, umbrellas almost bumping him, perceiving even closeness as a threat. So vulnerable without a pack (lone alphas are always the first to starve in winter).

Hoseok shivers even though its summer, he's soaked to the bone after a few minutes.

He has a key to the record store. He could go inside. Granted- he should be inside already. Opening up shop, making coffee, and letting the place warm up. But standing out in the rain feels too much like penance.

Hoseok likes the rain. The smell of it. The way it makes the whole world ache and go still. He feels every drop on his dark hair, soaking through his thin hoodie. It's cleansing almost, letting the rain soak him through.

(The end of relationships is always hard, let alone the end of abusive relationships, they’re downright terrible).

Hoseok keeps replaying their words in his head, with every slosh of a nearby car, every honk of a taxi. The stoplight red and green bleeding onto the wet concrete. Yellow flashing in contrast with hoseok's dark memories.

“You’re welcome to stay here until the lease runs out, but the four of us need to move back home. You understand Hobi don’t you? We’re just omega’s- we’re just girls- and we think this could be a clean break for all of us. We just don't want to lead you on any longer.”

The worst part is that Hobi had sort of known, had sort of already realized what was happening. he’d seen it in their looks; distant and despondent. Their touches that did not linger longer than necessary, cheeks turned as he comes in for a kiss. The phone calls hushed in the other room that cut off abruptly when he entered.

The lease on their apartment ends today. The place has already been professionally deep cleaned and Hoseok's things are packed in his car in plastic bins. He has 6 of them to his name.

He doesn’t have a place to go yet, he might just sneak into the back room at the record store and sleep there until he figures something out. Hoseok drove to work early because he didn't have another place to go.

This version of Hoseok is not the one you know, this version of Hobi is 23 and hopeless, can’t think about moving back in with his parents a city away, with nothing but a rusted-out Corolla that barely gets him to work let alone through the 200-mile trip. It will die on him in about 6 months and Namjoon will be thankful that Hoseok no longer is driving around in a deathtrap.

He hadn’t even gotten this job by himself, his pack omega- his ex-girlfriend had gotten him this job almost 4 months ago after his last one didn’t pan out. Temporary work for temporary people.

Nothing feels like his. Not his body and certainly not this job.

Hoseok hasn’t smoked in months, but something that feels an awful lot like self-disgust worms under his skin and he can’t resist. Not today of all days. Smoking is something that he doesn’t indulge in often, and hasn’t indulged in since… becoming an alpha to someone. But he guesses it doesn’t matter now without anyone to complain that they don’t like the smell.

The cigarette mixes with the smell of petrichor and Hoseok’s own acidic scent. The smell of a terrified alpha draws him more than a few looks but he pays them no mind. He's thankful for his soaking face, at least the rain keeps out the tears. Cool and soothing against his face.

Hoseok just wants- Hoseok just wants to call them. To talk to someone.

Ending relationships is always like this. You want to keep being good, keep being what they want, but that’s impossible. You can’t act or behave right and dupe someone into loving you. Sometimes the love just isn’t there. (A smaller shyer voice says it was never love at all, you can't possess love, only be given it and Hoseok feels like a cast aside possession. Love and abuse cannot coexist).

Hoseok should have known. He keeps replaying the moments in his head. He’d seen them exchanging knowing looks when they thought he wasn’t looking.He thought he was just being paranoid, until yesterday morning when they’d taken him aside.

“You knew this had to end one day Hoseok" "You knew one day we'd move on." "As much as we appreciate what you’ve done for us, we think it’s time for us to move on.”

“What do you mean? I thought we were leaving next week, you really left me with only a day to find a place to go?”

“We’re sorry Hoseok, your last rut was just too much to deal with. We think it's best if we just stay on our own. It's a clean break this way.”

"Wait, please- I love you."

"We know. We're sorry."

Hoseok is too much for anyone to deal with. He doesn’t call his friends (he hasn’t met up with any of them or returned their texts in months thanks to several pointed words from his pack omega). He doesn’t go inside yet because he deserves the rain. He sits out front of the record store, smoking a cigarette that will probably end up killing him down the line, and thinks Good.

He tells himself the irritation in his eyes is just because of the cigarette smoke blowing in his face, even though he knows it's not. He's not even inhaling right because his breaths come all hitched and pathetic. Anyone would be sad if their relationship of several years had ended. Anyone would be devastated.

Hoseok checks his phone again. Nothing.

Most people on the crowded street ignore him. Though the thick throng of people going about their business, probably going to work at their 9 to 5 jobs that pay enough to afford apartments and packmates. Hoseok is the one soul that stands stationary.

Until one, someone a few feet back stops, tipping their face through their hood to look at him. The only other person without an umbrella.

Hoseok knows his face and his name. It’s just Min Yoongi- his coworker and sort of friend who's coming in for his shift. Hoseok doesn't love Yoongi yet but they're sort of friends already. They might be better friends if Hoseok could get over his admiration and jealousy.

Yoongi has this way of quietly taking care of the people around him. He picks up Hoseok's jacket when it slides off the hook at work, asks him if he wants coffee and even pays for it when he goes to the coffee shop next door. He compliments Hoseok's music tastes when it's his turn to play something, he gives Hoseok the aux frequently in a way that feels a little bit like flirting.

The only two good things about Hoseok's job are the music and Min Yoongi.

He even laughs at Hoseok's shitty jokes when they're stacking new inventory saying cryptic things like "they can't be worse than my omega's jokes."

That's why Hoseok's jealous. Yoongi gets packmates, five of them who make him lunch even when he's only got a four-hour shift. that often linger outside to walk him home or pick him up in their shiney not new not old cars.

(Yoongi's packmates certainly have better things to do than send Yoongi to work with a second packed lunch. "Jin-hyung caught a glimpse of you through the doorway, the only thing that he hates more than Namjoon's snoring is skinny Alpha's.")

Min Yoongi has that look that people do when they're well-loved by packmates. Hair ruffled and neck dotted with bruises that might as well be mating bites for a beta. Beta's don't mate, but these ones certainly keep him close. He wears their scents like a shield. Sometimes so thick that Hoseok can't even smell any of his chocolate scent.

Right now, staring at Yoongi a few paces into the street, all Hoseok can smell is the rain.

When Hoseok had been introduced to him it had felt strange just by virtue of Yoongi's sub gender. A beta? Working somewhere so normal? Weren’t beta's supposed to be like- financial advisors or assistants to the president or something? Betas are supposed to have more important jobs than pushing vinyl and bumping Hoseok's shoulder playfully.

(Hoseok hasn’t seen it yet, the way that the owner hands over little white baggies to people who come in looking hungry for a high that cigarettes or alcohol can’t fix. Hoseok hasn’t yet realized that the record store isn't just a record store. This is just one front business of many that the family has organized across this city and the country for distribution of some of his most precious inventory). Yoongi has worked her for the last year, takes calls in the back for the family. The owner only bows to him when Hoseok's not around.

They only hired hoseok for tax purposes. Having three employees looks less suspicious than just two.

The beta looks concerned, and Hoseok knows he can’t hide the fact that he’s been crying as the beta steps up and pushes Hoseok back under the awning. Out of the rain and into the warmth of the doorway. This kind of movement would make any alpha snap, but not Hoseok. Hoseok just tucks his chin down and starts to cry.

“Oh Hoseok.” Hobi sniffles, and wipes his runny nose on his sleeve. Yoongi's hand curls against his throat, chocolate scent spiking to soothe. “You’re soaking wet."

Yoongi grabs his wrist and Hoseok almost keens at the gentle touch. Whole body shaking, shoulders curling in Yoongi's direction. Yoongi’s lips press into a thin line and then tugs him inside.

~-~

(Now, You)

You hold your breath. Still peering around the corner, watching and waiting for the man to spot you.

But he doesn't, after a breath where his soft footsteps echo, you wait, but nothing happens. You peak back around the corner.

You absorb and catalog the details as fast as you can; the black ski mask, covered by one of those traditional Korean masks, wooden with red lacquer. This one is a little different than the one that Jimin had; not twisted with thick eyebrows in a snarl. This one is white with red splotches on the cheeks, like a ghost sent down from above to rob you of your humanity.

The bulletproof vest stops at the collarbones. The gun itself is a black generic model. The long end is extra bulbous with something that might be an attached silencer. His hands covered in black nitrile gloves, leathery at first glance. There is a knife at his waist along with a barrage of other small things; rope and a knife, duct tape and handcuffs. His heavy boots look steel toed and reinforced.

The man (because it is a man you realize; tall, maybe taller than Namjoon) trains his gun at the landing on the top of the stairs. Pointing it in the direction of Hobi, Tae, and Jin’s hushed voices.

Hobi giggles and it sounds so bright. Echoing off the walls and filling the house with his musical laughter.

There is a phone cord tangled in your hands, long and white. You grip it tight.

This man might be silent but you’re quieter as you slide your bare feet across the smooth floors. Your strides are so quiet. You take one step and then another until you're behind the man, mirroring him.

You remember when Yoongi redid the floors, it was one of the few things that he did right away; before the pack came to live here (to love here). It took him weeks and weeks of sanding before he got them to his liking. Days more of brown dark stain that colored his hands ruddy until the soft matte finish stuck. Every pass with the belt sander and dirty rag a movement of love, a meditation for it.

Yoongi made every inch of this house with the same loving intent; to make it a home for all of you. a place to be safe and nurse your wounds and hearts. You won’t let it become a grave. You won’t let this person stay here and ruin it.

Most people get it wrong; In order to kill it is not a matter of elegance or effort. There is no such thing as a perfect kill either. Emotionless and analytic isn't enough and being justified only gets you halfway. There is no way to do it cleanly. People die just as they live, messy and hopeful and dirty.

Murder isn't a matter or wanting or wishing, It’s a matter of rage.

It’s always been this way. Rage has been chewing a hole through you from the moment that you pulled the trigger with Geumjae. From the moment you said ‘I do’. Rage that these violent things have been done to you, that they continue to happen, that you can’t just get away from all the hurt and trauma.

Rage has eaten you clean through to the bone. Rage has made you skinny and starving, rage has made you timid and fragile. But now you're the hungry one. Right now, only three words run through your head;

How dare she.

How dare she send this man into your house. How dare she point a gun at the upstairs, in the general direction of your nest and your packmates. The altar at which you so desperately cling to, for sweet dreams and sweeter worship (There is no deity above the god of love, not even death. Death cannot take the love from your chest, someone dying does not make you stop loving them).

How dare she even think about hurting the people you love.

There is no courage, no bravery, no thought in your head about how stupid it might be as you step closer behind the man. You are not a trained assassin. You’re just an omega.

The adrenaline rush is an old friend, a thrall both intoxicating and unnerving. Your heart beats loud in your ears. You grip the phone cord in your hands and take a quiet steadying breath. He doesn't see you, he doesn't hear you, he doesn't know that you're behind him.

Wolves always go for the throat, whether they’re cornered or hunting.

The assassin’s foot ascends the bottom step. You don’t let him get to the second before you’re moving, hurtling forward. Footsteps no longer light. Your hands go over the man’s shoulders. The cord no more than a white flash across his vision before you draw it tight across his neck.

The pain and panic are instant as you’re suddenly tethered to a six-foot-four assassin and struggling to stay on your feet as he stumbles back. You’re pulled off your feet and down the stairs, but you keep it as tight as you can and you don’t let go. Fighting to keep your makeshift garrote tight as he scrambles to get his fingers around where it digs into his skin. Spluttering loud.

The hard wire digs, cutting easily through plastic and then your skin as he tries to pull you off. You don’t let go until he backs you into the entryway wall and slams you against it with a dizzying clang of bone and body hitting something solid. Your head narrowly avoids one of the hooks that the pack hangs their coats on. An inch to the left and he'd have impaled your skull on it. An inch to the left and you'd be dead.

A single inch.

His head slams into your face, and you feel something in your nose pop, flooding your mouth with blood so thick you choke.

He slams you against the wall once, twice, and then a third time until your grip goes slack and slippery with blood. It knocks the breath out of you, and he finally throws you off. You both fall to the ground like stones. Both of you gasp and struggle for breath. At least one of your ribs it broken, but because of the adrenaline you can't even feel it.

When the man lifts his black gloves to his throat, they come away glossy with blood.

(It’s crazy how you never notice the change from the day to day, one day you are begging for a reason to hold on, a reason to live, and the next you’re fighting tooth and nail to keep going. Just about gnawing your own arm off to get out. To survive and live to see another day. Another sunrise.)

By that time the air has returned to your lungs it’s enough for you to scream. “Jin! Jin! There’s someone in the house there’s-”

You try and inhale through your nose and blood makes you choke. You push at the floor with your hands, struggling to stand, fingers slippery and tacky with your blood.

The man tries to scramble up the stairs but you latch onto his legs and make him drop. Doing everything in your power to keep him from going up to them, to your packmates. Hugging his ankle to your chest to slow him down (the same way you’ve hugged Namjoon’s arm and Yoongi’s, the way you held Hobi in the nest on the couch just a few shattered days ago).

The man turns the gun on you, pointing it to your head, you flinch, waiting for the shot-

and open them as He heaves a frustrated roar before he wheels away and turns, aiming at the top of the stairs instead of right in your face.

You could have died right then. could have and should have, but you didn’t. Your brain is too messy with adrenaline right now to make sense of it.

Why didn't he shoot?

The gun goes off, a bullet whizzing by Jin’s head. His face, scared, on the stairs flashes ever briefly. Ducking for cover just in time. The doorframe explodes in a cacophony of dark wood splitters. The doorknob sparks and bursts into a million pieces with another shot. metal clanking against the ceiling, the walls, down the stairs.

One second, you’re holding onto his heavy leather boot, and the next it’s colliding with your face and you’re out like a light.

Getting hit in your face is always such a disorientating experience. You’d never gotten used to it, even with Geumjae. Granted it’s hard to get used to the stomach-churning low vision feeling of weightlessness, like vertigo only worse.

"Hobi! don't- jesus fucking christ-"

You’re not quite sure what happens next only that you can’t see for a moment after the boot hits your face, and you take big breaths through your mouth. Blood, you taste blood. And then your vision comes back. Black spots and all and there’s Hobi’s face in front of you. No assassin, just him, helping you up from the floor. You're not on the steps anymore but at the bottom of them.

“The kitchen, the kitchen," Blood rushes over your bottom lip. Hoseok wipes it away, inhaling a jagged breath. "He’s-”

He pushes at your shoulders. “The car- get to the car.” It feels impossible. This can be happening in your house. Are you about to have a shoot-out in the street? On your quiet cul-de-sac? But then, in the corner of your vision dark movement.

You tug Hobi’s head down the second that the gun goes off- probably saving his life, definitely saving it as the bullet tears through the banister and ends in a hollow thump in the wall. he may not have shot you but he has no quams shooting at Jin and Hobi. The bullets hit the wall- Maybe 6 inches above your bent heads. Too close, close enough that Hobi trembles in your hold. And he rips something- a piece of the doorway, out of his arm with a wince before he covers your body with his own.

The volley of gunshots are so loud, so vicious as they blow things apart, tearing holes through Yoongi’s coat, the doorway, the banister, and the narrow stairway rungs. Pieces of wood hit your curled forms. Hobi shoves your head down when you try to look.

There is wetness, hot, something hot on your hands, your neck, you know it’s blood before you look. You think it’s from you until the Gunsmoke clears and you realize- fingers skimming across hoseok's forehead, a gash above his eyebrow.

A bullet graze by his hairline thats bleeding profusely. head wounds always bleed a ridiculous amount.

There are more bullets behind you but it’s just Jin returning fire.

Jin’s got Tae behind him. Her face ashy and pink from the shower and panic, her mid-length dark hair such a tangle, cowering behind his back. Jin's gun is so much louder without the silencer. Did he bring one upstairs? Or did he get it from Jimin’s stash?

Jin nearly drags Tae to the three of you, and she clings to you. Your hand finds her face. Fingers are red and bloody smudging against her cheek, blink and you're back there a million moments in the past; dotting red blush across her cheeks with a brush- your fingers- kissing it into place with your lips- painting a line of maroon across her eyelids to bring out the lighter flecks in her eyes- Watching her twirl in a red dress. Pressing your red lips against hers in a quiet dark moment in the library room. With her in Hobi's red car- Everything red.

If it starts with red, maybe it's fitting that it ends in red too.

Jin doesn’t give you time to reminisce. Pushing her shoulder down hard. His bare chest splattered with splinters from the door. Covered in wood fragments that stick to his black sweatpants and damp feet. Shouting, “All of you get down!”

You follow your pack omega’s words. Hobi and Tae With their damn alpha instincts blanket you as Jin fires again. The shots are so much louder in the small space. Another shot, another thunder strike. tae grips your wrist tight, your hands.

When you look down, they look mutilated. you can see bone in one place, deep gashes across the centre of your palms.

Your ears ring and you can't make sense of anything over the noise. Jin returns every bang with a boom of his own, bright flashes lighting up the dark staircase. Casing after casing tinkling down to the floor, rolling across the floorboards

But then, for a second- the gunfire goes quiet.

The house creeks and the three of you hold your breath. Jin's still half-concealed. The air heavy and clouded with gunsmoke and the smell of blood.

Hobi tentatively gets onto his knees and then stands when he doesn't immediately get shot at. You make a small noise in your throat, the loudest that you dare, but he’s looking after Jin, standing in the darkness, hackles raising his angry scent of burning sugar acrid in your nose. His hand slides out of yours, your blood on his palms.

And then you hear the rush of boots, echoing in the living room, near your nest- you’d never unmade it after you and Hobi fucked there. You'd been too busy taking care of Jimin. Hoseok bears his teeth.

Hobi turns, sliding out of your hands quicker than you can grab him. Quicker than you can tell him that he’s being dumb, that he’s being suicidal.

“Not my girlfriend! You asshole!”

The world is a dizzying cacophony of gunpowder, pain, bullets, and shouting. Jin yells Hoseok’s name. But the alpha heads after the assassin regardless of your cries. Jin narrowly keeps him from running headlong into no mans land. the open area by the door that would leave Hoseok a sitting duck.

Tae’s standing up on unsteady legs as you all spill out of the stairs into the narrow hall. Out from her hiding place cowering behind the banister. Your attention isn’t on her it’s on Hobi. Neither you nor Jin are looking at her. You’re running after him on shaky legs. Jin holds you both back, trying to corrall you. The air is cloudy with Gunsmoke, hazy and heavy. Her eyes are wide and pretty like dark marbles as she watches Hobi.

They’re just as pretty when the gun presses to the back of her head.

Everyone turns and goes still. The man has Tae in his arms, hand in her hair making her neck arch. The gun pressed to her jaw. Finger on the trigger.

Her body trembles and she doesn’t turn, frozen still in fear a shallow whine building in her throat.Jin has the gun trained on the man faster than you can make to step in Tae’s direction. But it’s no use.

He must have gone around, run through the livingroom through your pantry. A similar path that you took to surprise him. He must know the floor plan of the house, must have studied it to prevent situations like this. You have no upper hand here with tae in his arms.

Tae’s mouth is buttony and parted, but it settles into a resigned line.

Jin’s never been a good enough shot- not for one like this, even barely 10 feet away. He might hit Tae. Shaky, Jin takes his finger off the trigger and stoops down to put the gun on the floor. His other hand is up, already surrendering when the man jerks Tae's head back by her hair. Rougher than he needs to be.

“Don’t shoot her, please don’t shoot- please.”

The man juts his chin at the gun on the floor. “Kick it away now, be a good omega.” Jin grits his teeth but does as he says.

The man’s voice is rough as gravel. Dignified, but with no obvious accent. Not the quiet cadence that you’ve come to expect from the family. Neither posh nor lowbrow. Something in between. Flat and monotone. You're sure that you've never heard his voice before.

“I have to admit, your file said you’d be resistant, but it said nothing about you being dumb as fuck and a poor shot to boot.”

Jin licks his lips and bares his teeth, “Put that gun back in my hand and then say it again.” The masked man cocks his head to the side and then shrugs as if Jin's fury doesn't mean anything to him.

But He’s bleeding, it trails down to the floor so the words can't be genuine. It's a small wound, a graze on his right thigh. Red bright and hot that drips in onto the floor from his pant leg.

His hand tightens in Tae’s hair. “Line up against the wall. Now. Or I’ll blow her brains out in front of you."

You move first, eyes trained on Tae. But he snaps, eyes unreadable behind that mask, “No- not you. I’m not here to kill you.”

He tosses something to Jin and he catches it. Handcuffs that jingle and clink. Your foot hits an errant bullet with a similar tinkle. “Handcuff Jin to the stairs Hoseok.”

Your names, he knows your names. Your mind races over every detail, every moment trying to piece together a way to get out of this. a way to save them.

“Why are you doing this?” Hobi’s trembling, shaking. “Did Jimin-”

“Jiminie did nothing.” The man croons dragging the barrel of the gun down Tae’s cheek leaving a dark smudge in its wake. It's red on her face, the barrel must still be hot, your blood crusty around her lips.

“Honestly though, you should know he was a shit assassin. Truly piss poor even by industry standards. They always threw him the easiest kills."

The three of you are quiet, if he was hoping to elicit a reaction or more of a fight You don’t give him the satisfaction. Although jin grits his teeth, gnashing anger and an omega's feral instinct to protect their pups.

You step forward hands open, barely two steps from Tae. If you can just get to her maybe you can-

“Please- please don’t kill them."

He cocks his head at you, and you can hear the grin in his voice. “Oh no, you misunderstand me I’m not going to do any of it.”

He taps Tae’s head once again with the gun and Tae starts to truly struggle. You tremble in fury and horror as you realize what he means with a sickening lurch in your stomach.

“This is how it’s going to work Y/n” You still at the sound of your name. “Taehyung here is going to shoot Jin and Hoseok. And then once we’re sure they’re good and dead, I’ll kill her.” He tosses you another pair of handcuffs, these ones are meant for you.

You take one step closer; Jin's gun is between your feet now. But you couldn't pick it up or else he'd shoot Tae. Time, you just need a minute to figure out what to do. How to get them out of this.

Yourself now, that's a different story. If you where in Tae's position you'd turn your face to the side and bite the mans hand.

“And what about me then? If they're all dead what’s to stop me from fighting?” he seems to consider it only briefly, the gun in his hand tilting so that you can see the dark oval where the bullet will come out, where it will rocket through Tae's skull and take all the little worlds she dreams of, all her poems and words and make them nothing.

“You think you're so precious? I’ll just kill you.” he says it like it's nothing. like you're nothing. He nods to the others, appealing to them and not you. “What do you want? All four of you to die? Or just three? What will hurt Namjoon the least? Do you think Yoongi will survive loosing his mate? What do you think Jinnie?”

You think of Yoongi's mating mark, the spot on his hip where your small curved semi-circles sit. You think of them turning black- a brand of a dead mate. You think of Hobi's eyes opening and never closing again. You think of Jungkook nesting without Jin and you. Of Namjoon holding out his hand and having no one to take it without Jin there.

You won't let any of this happen.

The others shoot each other unsure glances but you shake your head. you shake your head because earlier on the step, the man didn't take the easy shot, the easy kill.

If he really had orders to kill you, he would have done it then.

you step forward and shake your head. “I don’t believe you. I know your orders are to take me. That’s what all of this is about isn’t it?” The man doesn’t drop his weapon. Just presses it tighter to Tae’s jaw.

“Handcuff Jin now Hobi. Or else I’ll-”

You see the darkness settle in Jin’s eyes and before you know it he's turning to you, eyes flat. Endless in their darkness, the way they might if-

You don't let yourself consider it. You won't let it get to that point.

“Pup-”

You guess it does make sense, having you kill each other as opposed to the assassin doing the dirty work and implicating Moonbyul. If you really are on that ‘no kill list’ like Yoongi said at the hospital, having you take out each other is the only logical course of action. Once Tae kills Jin and Hobi, she'll be free game. This is the only way retribution won’t fall back on her. This is so similar to what she tried and failed to do with Jimin and Jin. This is a second attempt.

Only-

Only this time, you have a bargaining chip.

You step forward, in front of Hobi and Jin, blocking them from his line of sight. Barely a pace in front of Tae, but from the way he tightens his grip on her you know that you can go no further.

“You can take me; I’ll go with you. Willingly.”

Jin makes a noise in his throat and tries to move, but dares not when the man tightens his grip on Tae’s hair hard enough to rip a bit of it out.

“That’s what she wants, isn’t it? If you just let them live I’ll go with you.”

The man is silent for a second. Hobi trembles and so does Jin. For a second, you truly think that he’s going to take the bait.

But the mask is directed towards the floor, then back up at you. “Those aren’t my orders.” His finger is on the trigger so close to Tae’s head. “Now cuff him, I don’t want Jinnie getting any ideas.”

Hobi’s hands are shaking as he unwillingly shackles Jin to the steps as slowly as he can. He's buying time too. Every second and every heartbeat is precious. Both ends loop around a single rung and click closed. The rung itself is a little loose from a bullet that blew it apart near the bottom, it’s got to be the loosest one. Hobi turns, and you see the pre-meditation in his eyes; he chose that one so that Jin could still get free if he tried hard enough.

Everyone is trying. Everyone is defiant. The quirk of Jin's eyes as he settles, staring with rage at the man, his voice a quiet croon when he says what might very well be the last words he ever speaks.

“Tae you can close your eyes honey, it’s okay.”

"No I can't" She struggles harder against his hold, but it only gets her part of her hair pulled out with how rough the man jerks her, tears clouding her vision. "I can't- don't- please-"

Tae's soul has always been butterfly soft and flower tender. She's not made for this. She's not made for murder or pain or anything that lacks softness. She's never been a killer; Jimin was always that side of their coin. Saint and sinner.

Your body goes cold and for a second, you think you just might pass out, especially when Hoseok grips your wrist. One final squeeze in what can only be goodbye before he steps away and in front of jin. Hair puffed up. Jin is lowering his eyes and no no no.

No.

Tae is staring at you, eyes wide and scared, but you watch in total powerlessness as her eyebrows lower. You see the moment Tae thinks it. Eyes meeting yours, lips mouthing something that you can’t read. Maybe I’m sorry no.

I love you. Sorry.

The truth is that Jimin drilled this with her years ago before she left for college and he couldn’t follow. When Jimin first realized that for the first time in their lives she’d be without him as a constant protector. Delicate delicate Tae with her delicate pink soul. So vulnerable to the world and all its wickedness.

Tae didn't confront him about it until the nightmares were waking him up regularly. They were simple nightmares back then; images of Tae hurt and mugged. Tae beaten and left in an alleyway. Tae stalked through the night. Simple, but enough to keep him awake. Enough to torture him in his wakon hours as well as the nighttime.

If Jimin saw her now he'd pull the heavens down and demand something truly awful in exchange. He'd take one of the knives from the kitchen and gut him from belly button to addams apple. He'd eviscerate him- and Namjoon might help.

Hut there is no one here to do any of that, there is only Tae in the man's hold.

“What are you so scared of?” She’d asked one morning, trailing endless patterns on his chest in an effort to soothe him back to sleep.

“Something happening to you while I’m not there, mostly.”

“Would it make you feel better? If you taught me the basics?”

Jimin's pause is telling, more telling are his eyes, hopeful when he looks up at Tae. “Yes, it would.”

It’s been years and years since Jimin Tae have bothered to drill any self-defense sequences it at all. Since he stopped asking her to refresh the basics with him once a year just to make sure. Jimin never thought that Tae would have to use those skills. Like with most things, you just sort of hope you don't have to fight.

But Tae knows you did fight. It's written all over your bloody face and your bloody hands, tightened to fists by your side. If you fought tooth and nail to save them she should fight too.

Tae has written fight scenes like this before. If she survives the press of the gun to the back of her head, she’s gonna have one hell of a personal experience to pull from for her book. The content will be endless.

She seems to swell in the space, alpha shoulders settling back. Her mouth is moving, mouthing words her eyes on you. Just in case this is the last thing she ever does.

I’m sorry, I love you.

“Be a good boy and pick up the gun Tae.” Tae bends down, syrupy slow. Intentional with her every movement. One heartbeat. Another. Tae's fingers are maybe an inch from the gun when everything goes haywire.

When she's about halfway bent she uses her momentum to hurl her body back, slamming her head into the gun and then into the man’s face. Cracking the mask and from the sound of it, the man’s nose. Tae's almost knocks herself out with the force of her own head colliding with the man’s face.

She turns, she’s not finished, not even close. She might be a woman but she’s an alpha too. Alphas always always fight to protect their pack. She turns and swings.

And drives her elbow as hard as she can between the alpha’s legs.

Hobi can’t stop his flinch. That has to hurt.

The assassin’s gun goes flying, skittering across the dark floor and under the bookcase and Hobi ends up lunging for it. You go after it too but you end up holding Tae instead, crumpling to the floor without anything to hold her up. She’s holding the back of her head, eyes watering.

The traditional mask lyes in pieces around you, shatered by the force of tae's headbut. The man clutches his nose, features still covered by the ski mast. Growling out- "Bitch- fucking bitch! I'll kill you. I'll fucking kill all of you-"

Jin struggles yanking his cuffed hands down as hard as he can- in another minute he might get loose, but not quick enough as Hobi finds the gun and raises it. The bullet hits the molding beside your pantry, missing the man by inches as he dives away to safety. A lucky shot by any standard, let alone for a beginner. Hobi shoots off after him. knocking into the wall before he's up and chasing it.

“Are you okay, Tae, Tae- look up at me.” Tae is clutching the back of her head. Blinking rabidly. That fucking hurt even if it was worth it.

“I’m fine just-” She leans over your legs and vomits, retching loud and horrible. Concussion- she must have given herself a concussion. Namjoon told you months ago how to read the signs of them shortly after the first time Jungkook ever had a seizure in front of you.

You hold her shoulders, watching Jin try and break himself free, yanking his wrists hard enough that it has to hurt. Moving to try and help him.

And then Hobi makes a noise in the other room, a pained ghasp, A thump and then-

Tae is already up and running, stumbling into the wall. You glance at Jin. "Go- just go" Jin grinds out. But Tae has longer legs than you do even concussed.

By the kitchen, Hobi slips on a fallen tangerine. (You remember then, Yoongi clearing the table with a brush of his hands for Jimin, tossing a whole bowl of them onto the floor. Where they've stayed since then) they're fighting, the man must have managed to disarm Hobi somehow because the gun sits under one of the chairs. Both of them are fighting just beside the dining room table. Part of it splintered and broken where someone broke it.

They're grappling on the floor now. Pushing against each other trying to gain the upper hand. you've watched the alpha's wrestle before- small disputes to settle and reaffirm the hierarchy, but you've never seen hobi move like this. You watch the man grasp at his waist reaching for the knife. His hands so slick with his own blood that it clatters to the floor. Hobi may not be trained but he's a fighter too. Gnashing his teeth and growling. Reaching up into the shallow gash at the mans throat and digging in his fingers.

And then he’s got Hobi on the ground and his hands around your alpha's throat. Tae tries to get him off but he backhands her, sending her sprawling to the ground and clutching her cheek. Too dizzy to stand. Big hands that squeeze and squeeze and squeeze Hobi's narrow throat. Spit at the corner of his lips turning frothy as hoseok tries to breathe and can't.

“I didn’t come this far to get killed by a bunch of family rejects; 11 years and 1458 kills later and I will not die. Just give up already- I didn’t come this far to-”

Hobi’s face is turning purple, hands scrabbling, pushing against his face trying to get him off unsuccessfully. Dying there on the floor. Hobi is going to die right there if you don't do anything.

Jin is shouting from the other room and there is a frying pan in the kitchen. On the countertop that you snatch on your way past, winding up for it before you swing it with all your might at the man's head and-

At the end of the day, it’s hard to say exactly what kills him. Whether it's you or Tae who wields the killing blow. It’s more of a group effort between you and her.

Tae has read countless books that described love as some gentle force, but this love has not made her gentle. Tae cannot sit there on the floor and watch Hobi die. She'd do anything to protect him and the pack. She’d kill people like Minnie did, would lie just as Jin had, would have sacrificed anything- even herself just like Yoongi.

Love had always been giving in Tae's mind, and she would give countless sins and untold violence, to have this not be the last day with you and the pack.

The gun is just sitting there under the chair. tae hardly has to lean over to get it. (If she makes it out of this alive, she swears to himself that she'll finally start taking those kickboxing classes that Jungkook teaches.) Tae lifts the gun at the same moment that your hand descends with the frying pan.

Tae turns, points, aims, and fires. She doesn’t even think twice about it. The trigger goes down as easily as breathing.

Getting shot in the throat definitely distracts him enough, definitely makes him let go of Hobi, clutching at his own throat instead of his. blood rushing over his hand and down onto hobi's face. So much that it almost splashes.

And then the frying pan hits his head with a hollow final thud.

There is a placid terror in things like this, a quiet as things go and come. The thumping, the sobbing breaths you let out, the descent of your hand, beating out your terror on the body below, a vessel for all of your fear.

The handle of the frying pan is thick and heavy in your hands. You bring it down on the man’s head, the curved edge of the cast iron connects with the plate of his skull with a hollow thud. One second, he's clutching at his blown-apart throat, and the next he goes limp, blood and brain matter splatters loud and heavy along the floor. Falling on top of Hobi like a lead weight.

Hobi's brown eyes are bloodshot and red in his mouth, heaving one big breath that sends the room spinning. Sends vertigo into his veins and panic-running adrenaline. You lift your arms up again and hit him, descending again and again.

His body is still, so still. His chest gives one open shudder and then goes truly quiet. Frozen in time. You are covered in blood, in your mouth, on your hair, on the ceiling. More and more splatters as your hand goes up and then down in an endless loop.

Dark cotton soaks, matted with blood and brain matter, blurry from your tears. A bit of it hits your face, wet and stinky. People never tell you how horrible it smells when people die.

You don’t stop hitting the man, even when it's clear he's dead. Even when you glare down at him through the tears in your eyes and see half a face staring up at you. An eyeball rolls across the floor.

There are arms around you pulling you off of him eventually. Dry warm arms, big and heavenly. One wrist dangles with a pair of handcuffs as Jin yanks you back from the man. The body.

“Pup- It’s done, pup- he's gone- Stop.”

There is blood all over you. On your face, on your hands, around the frying pan. Tae too, sitting just beside you. Half of her body splattered. Hobi's soaked with it and still struggling to breathe. But both of them, the three of them are alive.

“It’s over pup.” Jin sounds like he might be crying. Tae definitely is.

Hobi puts his head between his knees, gasping for every breath but still breathing. Tae's got him in his lap. Holding on to him as he splutters. face so soaked with blood he can't open his eyes without blinking rapidly.

It’s anything but over you think as you let go of the handle of the frying pan.

It clatters to the ground with a bloody and final thunk.

~-~

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Notes:

if the beginning of the chapter feels weird/different in terms of narration that is because it was mostly written 3+ years ago and my writing style has changed alot! kinda crazy! hopefully people will just attribute it to hoseok's internal monologue. it might be meandering but i kept reminding myself that this is hoseok at his lowest you know?

One thing i want you guys to realize is that the m/c may not be smart, but holy fuck can she take a beating and still get up.

Gun shoot outs are uniquely hard to write because like, just bang and it's done right? idk why part of this writing just felt so tedious usually i love writing stuff like this :(

hobi calls the m/c his girlfriend 🥺 did you guys notice???? he's such a cute pup charecter.

i have more notes for this chapter BUT i can't share them until the next one is out because it involves hobi's secret.

i hope you guys see like- how good the m/c actually is at the crime and thinking on her feet shit- i think that this chapter above all others shows her street smarts. she knows to keep the guy talking and distracted- i think it compliments her similarities to jimin and jin like. the trio of them are very capable people you know? vs hobi who just headlong rushes the assassin and fucks shit up. i'm not saying it's his fault- he does the best that he can in this chapter.

I'm trying to pull from my actual knowledge of how guns work but fun fact, silencers are still fucking loud, like still so loud that you need ear protection. and even blank bullets can still cause serious injury at close range.

I'm again at the stage where i can't tell if the gun shooting scene is clunky and too predictable or if it's actually as creepy as i've made it out to be.

This is one of those situations- the bargaining for each others lives, that i've actually never had to handle. it's actually pretty unusual for me to write about things that i haven't experienced in some way shape or form.

i've only written a few scenes in my life that have made me wonder like "huh- i wonder if people might actually think that i've seen a dead body, been around a dead body, or killed someone before?" and ngl, the scene with the assassin dying is one that makes me wonder that... i promise i just have a scarily vivid imagination.

[pin-k-ink]

haze // edogawa ranpo

tw ⇢ highly suggestive themes, smoking, mention of a hangover

wc ⇢ 1k

a/n: a rewrite of smth i wrote nearly two years ago

"Come on. We're already late." Ranpo tried to nudge your half-asleep, hungover form out of the warm cocoon of soft sheets and blankets you had wrapped yourself in. The mattress felt extraordinarily comfortable this morning, especially compared to the prospect of dragging yourself out of bed to face the day. You snuggled in deeper, relishing the coziness enveloping you, reluctant to emerge and silently hoping Ranpo would just leave you be.

Despite his usually carefree, happy-go-lucky demeanor, you could tell Ranpo was on the verge of losing his patience with you. You peeked an eye open to see his right eye twitching in irritation at your blatant ignoring of his promptings.

"I really don't feel up to it today," you mumbled, your voice muffled by the numerous layers of bedding you had burrowed under. With a sigh, you shifted slightly, trying to get comfortable again now that your peaceful slumber had been disrupted. You knew you wouldn't be able to drift back to sleep, but you still weren't ready to leave the sanctuary of your bed quite yet.

Ranpo's frustration reaching a boiling point, he grasped the edge of the blankets and swiftly yanked them off of you. "Get up already!" he demanded. But as the covers were peeled back, revealing your scantily clad form, Ranpo's mouth went dry, his grievances momentarily forgotten.

You lay there wearing nothing but a skimpy black lace bra and panties, complete with a garter belt framing your hips and thighs. Having foregone makeup the night before, just a hint of lipstick remained, now smeared seductively around your mouth. Your hair splayed out across the pillow in tousled waves that somehow still looked sexy despite the night spent tossing and turning.

As you stretched languidly, your ample breasts squished together enticingly. Ranpo felt an overwhelming urge to reach out and cup the supple mounds in his hands, to feel your soft flesh against his palms. His eyes travelled lower, taking in the tantalizing expanse of smooth skin, until they landed on an unexpected sight - intricate tattoos adorning your body in various suggestive places. The dark ink stood out in stark contrast to your skin tone. Ranpo felt a hot blush creeping up his neck at the provocative body art.

"Great, now I'm cold," you pouted, looking up at Ranpo through your lashes. He shook his head in disbelief. Even disheveled and halfway to a hangover, you still managed to look drop-dead gorgeous... and to frustrate the hell out of him with your antics.

"Deal with it. Now let's goooo," Ranpo whined, beginning to turn away before his body betrayed his increasing arousal at the alluring sight of you.

"Nah, I'm good here," you replied nonchalantly. Reaching over to your nightstand, you pulled out a half-empty pack of cigarettes and a lighter. In one fluid motion, you slid a cigarette between your full lips and flicked the lighter to life, taking a long drag.

Quick as a flash, Ranpo snatched the cigarette from your mouth and crushed the flimsy pack in his fist. "Fukuzawa told you not to smoke anymore," he reprimanded, coughing and swatting at the tendrils of smoke you blew in his face.

Unperturbed, you maintained a deadpan expression as you reached under the mattress and pulled out one of several hidden packs stashed there. Ranpo caught a glimpse of something else under the bed - was that a vibrator? He blushed even deeper as he registered what the long, purple object was.

Lighting up a new cigarette, you took a deep drag, relishing the burn in your lungs and the lightheaded rush that followed. Sighing in resignation, Ranpo slumped onto the bed next to you, head hanging in defeat. "I give up," he pouted.

"The cigs... are they really that good?" Ranpo asked after a moment, curiosity getting the better of him. You shrugged, not particularly keen to get into your reasons for smoking, especially this early in the morning.

"Can I try it?" You raised an eyebrow at his request. Mr. Sweet Tooth wanting to try a cigarette? This should be interesting.

"Sure, knock yourself out," you replied, handing it over. Ranpo took it eagerly, placing it between his lips and inhaling deeply... only to promptly break out in a fit of coughing and sputtering.

"When I said knock yourself out, I didn't mean literally," you laughed, springing up to rub his back soothingly.

"It's so spicy! Why do you even like these things?" Ranpo rasped out between coughs, clutching at his throat. You flopped back down, considering his question but unwilling to voice the real reasons your addiction had taken hold.

"C'mere," you purred instead, crooking a finger at him. Ranpo leaned in close, his breath catching in his throat as he hovered over you. Your fingers slid into his hair, gripping the back of his head as you pulled him in even nearer until your faces were mere inches apart. Maintaining eye contact, you took another drag from the cigarette, holding the smoke in your mouth.

You traced his bottom lip with your fingertip and he compliantly opened up for you, his tongue peeking out eagerly. Tightening your grip on his hair, you angled his head and slowly blew the smoke directly into his waiting mouth. Ranpo's emerald eyes flew open wide before the pupils blew out with desire. His hands braced on either side of your head as he unconsciously leaned in closer, seeking more of your intoxicating essence.

Releasing him, you dropped your head back against the pillow with a smirk. "How was that?"

It took Ranpo a minute to shake off his lust-induced haze and regain the power of speech. A matching smirk slowly spread across his face as an idea took hold. "You know, maybe we shouldn't go in to work after all..."

[emhm]

Coffee? Please?

Let me preface this by saying; I am not disabled and this is not about 'urgent' vet bills.

[I have an outstanding debt to pay in that regard, but the monthly payment is small and the service was already done. It was the amputation for our kitten Lucky's dead front leg.]

I do have a job and the pay is too good to quit. I work 40 hours a week and I spend almost 13 more hours just driving to and from work because our boss 'can't find a work assignment closer to where I live.' Up until about two weeks ago my partner was also working 40 hours a week on an opposing shift. We were just starting to get on top of our crushing pile of monthly bills. Then she lost her work assignment [not her fault] and he couldn't find anything else for her to do. So she lost a whole weeks pay. He found her a place, but now she's only getting 24 hours a week instead of 40. And we were already struggling to pay for the bare essentials. I was hoping so hard to just have something left when the bills were paid. But my entire tax return was used to pay for overdue bills and it still wasn't all of them.

-We have not had a working washing machine since September. Almost all of my ancient towels have rotted and ripped apart from trying to hang dry them to avoid killing the dryer too.

-Our house does not have central heat or air so we've been freezing for months with no money to buy wood for the stove. [It's warmer now but still in the low 40s at night where I am.]

-We have been flushing the toilet with buckets of water for almost a year because hiring a plumber is not happening.

-For over a year we have been fighting the flea infestation caused by the deadbeat trash-pit roommate we had to force to move out. They're biting me as well as the cats and I'm allergic to them. So I constantly have a rash on my feet and ankles. We never have money for flea drops consistently enough to get rid of them and I do not have a working vacuum to get rid of the flea eggs in the carpet.

-I just had to take on $1200 worth of debt because my tires were bald from my ungodly commute and they told me the brakes need replacing very soon.

-Our youngest cat Lucky will need to be fixed soon because she's almost old enough to go into heat. [She's indoors only but I don't want to deal with the screaming.]

Our predatory mortgage payment is almost $2000 a month with all their shitty add-on fees. My car payment is $334. The internet is $87. The power is usually $125. Car insurance is about $115. Garbage is $65. Our car is shared and I go through 1 tank +1/4 tank of gas EVERY WEEK. I owe both Sunbit AND Carecredit. We're both estranged from abusive parents and have no other family to turn to in an emergency.

I can't ask for money for fanfic. I know that's unethical and illegal.

But I can tell you that I write better/faster/more when I'm not distracted by gut-wrenching despair, crippling anxiety attacks and the bone-deep fear of quickly losing my home because I'm always two missed paychecks away from disaster. I know pretty much everyone is in the same boat, and my problems aren't unique or special.

But anything helps.

I have several hundred dollars in overdue bills from last month and it's already time for the next month's to start arriving. I feel so hopeless and I don't know what else to do besides resorting to begging.

I just set up a Ko-fi account - https://ko-fi.com/followmeontumblr

My Paypal is attached to this old email address - Nightshade518@yahoo.com

I have an Etsy shop with some things for sale - https://www.etsy.com/shop/PatchworkLaboratory

I also have a Spoonflower shop with fabric featuring my designs. [I only make $1.50 per yard that people buy though.] - https://www.spoonflower.com/profiles/infamousdoctorf

And for anyone who was kind enough to read this whole thing- I do have some NSFW sketches I've drawn for "Eclipse Meets His Match" that I have nowhere safe to post. If you're bold enough to direct-message me with the line-

"I swear on all I hold holy that I am not a minor. Show me the art."

I'll let you see them. Thank you either way.

-Doc

[the-kr8tor]

May I have Bitter Orange in a ⭐ bottle please? The start of R and Hobie being handcuffed together before they turned, with R succumbing to the effects of the virus much faster than Hobie due to his spiderpowers, so for a bit he just watches his love become a husk of who they were before he too is a zombie?

*laughs evily* Yessss I've been waiting for a request exactly like this hwjsjwijsjaj hope you like it!

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Word count: 3.2k (whoops)

Tags: Use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader (except for her clothing), description of illness, TW blood, CW injury, TW death, zombie AU, Zombie apocalypse AU. Angst, Hurt/comfort

A prequel to this one shot

Katy's one year celebration 🎉

The air is nice and cool on your face as you walk hand in hand with Hobie in the barren street. There's rows upon rows of abandoned houses, all in different stages of decay from both scavengers trying to survive and time itself proving to be the worst enemy. But it's on your side for now for it has given you infinite time to be with him.

Hobie's hand is suddenly on your scarf, fingers gingerly sliding the fuzzy material up to your chin. He smiles at you, the sun blindingly light behind him. Despite the apocalypse, he still looks just as handsome. He has new shallow scars on his chin where a stubble is slowly growing, hair a bit of a mess but beautiful nonetheless. You've once told him after a lucky find of one whole pound of chocolate pudding that he's apocalypse chic, that he makes the end of the world look good. To which he laughed and shoved a spoonful of chocolate pudding in your mouth. Compared to him you probably look like a mess, you wouldn't know, you've ignored mirrors ever since you ran out of shampoo a few days ago.

“What are you thinkin' ‘bout, gorgeous?” He tugs you closer to him, the crowbar hanging from his backpack clinks against the machete next to it.

“That I really need shampoo, and that you look unfairly handsome in this light.”

Chuckling, he intertwined his fingers around your own. It could mean death for the both of you if the undead suddenly lunges and he doesn't have enough time to take his hand away from you. But he thinks it's alright for him to do, to indulge himself to your touch since the entire place is empty save for a few dead cars and scattered luggages left by people.

“You should see yourself in my eyes, lovie, the greasy hair is doin' a lot for me.”

“Oh yeah? You like it when you pat my head and you get petrol on your hand?”

“We need petrol, d’you think if I bunch up your hair and squeeze it I can collect the oil?”

You nudge him playfully, “you're an ass.”

“Yeah, well, you're stuck with this arse.”

Your mind goes back to your friends and family you've left behind. “Do you think they're okay?”

“'m sure they are, Yuri's got them, and they have Ned, he'll whip them into shape. ‘sides, we're almost at James’, if I was them I'd stay there.” He adjusts his hold on his pack and guitar. “We'll find them.”

You smile, nuzzling his bicep for his own reassurance, knowing that he also worries for them. “You're right. They're probably doing better than us.”

“Yeah,” he pecks the crown of your head. “They're living like kings, I bet.”

You two stop in front of a large house, complete with white marble steps and tall roman columns. “James' dad never had taste, huh?”

Hobie snorts, “his son took all of it. C’mon, then.” He leads you on the porch, trying the door, wishing that it was locked because if it is it means that someone's inside, that they're surviving and waiting for the two of you. To his despair, the door opens without a problem.

Hobie looks back at you having the same expression. “It's okay,” you try to be optimistic, “maybe they left a message for us.”

He nods, “yeah, maybe.” Crossing the abandoned space, he takes his guitar from his back to strum a tune. When he doesn't hear stumbling or any rattling from anywhere inside the house, he continues forward, but his guard is still up. “We might as well get some supplies while we're ‘ere.”

“Yeah, there might be some left in here.” You give him a small smile. “How about we split up? This place is too big, it'll take us forever to comb over this place.”

Hobie considers it for a moment. The place seems pristine except for the furniture and cabinets that are picked clean, so he deems it safe. “Okay, just…” you walk to his side, rubbing his arms, smiling sweetly at him even though he probably doesn't smell the best. “...keep your knife close.”

“I will keep my knife close,” you repeat his words, “and I'll stay alert.” Poking at his chest, you peck the frown off his lips. “And you keep safe.”

He's still apprehensive, but he knows you can hold your own. Taking your face in his hands, he kisses you fully, smooching until you're giggling. “We’ll meet back ‘ere in fifteen.”

“Aye, aye, Cap'n!” You mock salute. “Any special requests?”

“Chocolates.”

“I said a request, not wishful thinking.” You tease, he has an urge to kiss you again.

“Towels, the nice fluffy ones.” You slide your hands away from him, to which he already longs for.

“Got it! I bet James has a ton of them.” You wink, knife in hand, walking away from him.

Hobie watches your retreating back, tamping down his anxieties. He searches upstairs, grinning at James' familiar room. His posters and messy floors remain untouched, the bed still looking like it was tossed around by a tornado. He almost cries at the picture frame on the bedside table containing his band's smiling faces plus you who's embracing him.

Turning the frame around, he takes the picture and pockets it to show to you. After rummaging James' room, he takes a few shirts and pants for him and you. He even finds a pair of silk pajamas that he knows you'll love. A piercing scream echoes around the house, he immediately bolts downstairs, heavy footsteps thudding across marble floors.

You're on your back, fighting for your life while the undead on top of you tried to get a chunk out of you. It all stops when Hobie's guitar connects to the corpse's skull in a sickening crunch of metal and bone.

You scramble away, neck and arm in pain. Hobie's wide eyes meet yours just as when the back door bursts open, revealing a whole horde of the undead. Panicking, he yanks you up, holding your hand, running outside to more of the shambling dead.

“Fuck!”

“Hobie!”

“Just hold on!” His hand is tight around yours, you try to run at his pace, panic in your veins, adrenaline in his.

It feels like you've been running forever, Hobie sees an opening hidden in an alley. He can climb on his own without a ladder but you can't. So he leads you towards the empty alley while the rotten, decayed corpses of once human beings run after you at full speed.

Hobie jumps to take down an emergency ladder, without missing a beat, he grabs your waist and throws you on the ladder. You climb, but the pain in your arm gets worse so you're slower but you still try for him.

The undead finally gets to the alley, you don't dare to look down. Once you're on the rooftop, you peek below to see him struggling to get up the ladder, he's halfway with a handful of zombies dangling on his leg.

You scream his name but it's too late, one of the undead has bitten a chunk of his leg as he tries to kick the former human off the ladder where he's desperately trying to climb to. You wish he didn't run out of web fluid, you wish the world didn't end, you wish the throbbing pain on your arm is just muscle spasm, but the warm crimson seeping out of teeth marks says differently.

With a sickly crunch, the zombie falls down the ladder and into the rotten horde. Hobie climbs up quickly back to you, hands immediately grasping on to you.

“Did it get you?!” You yell, still in denial, frantically checking in hopes that his boot saved him. Your heart falls into your stomach at the sight of broken skin, blood staining your fingers where you hold the hem of his trousers away to get a better look. You're frozen on the spot, tears clinging to your lashes. “Hobie,” you gasp, taking off your scarf to make a makeshift tourniquet around and above the bite. “Fuck—!”

“You okay?!” He does the same to you, heaving, ripping off your sleeves like a madman trying to find the secrets hidden in your skin. He prays that he finds none. His eyes widen, terrified, broken hearted, shaking his head, refusing the fact that you're infected. “No,” he shakes his head again, closing the torn up cloth around the slowly rotting wound. “It's just a scratch, love, y-you’re not—”

“Hobie…” you smile bitterly, eyes mirroring his own. He rips the hem of his shirt, using the cloth to wrap it around your arm, just above the wound in an attempt to stop the spread. He ignores the stinging pain on his leg. “Hobie, stop, it's—”

“We can still stop it!” He yells desperately, tying the cloth tightly. “It's just a scratch.”

“Hobie, please.” You hold his trembling hands, “it has been ten minutes.” He refuses, you squeeze his hand weakly, the virus already taking hold. Slowly killing you. “And—” with trembling hands, you show him the gaping bite on your neck, oozing dark decaying blood. He choked on a sob. “B-but there's a chance for you, your abilities might've made you immune—”

“No, if you're goin’, ‘m goin’” He stands up, not giving up on you. “There's a chemist’s ‘ere, maybe if w-we…” he puts on a brave face amidst the impending doom and rotten flesh that stings his nose. “Maybe there's somethin’ there.” Hand reaching down, you smile up at him, orange and pink hues from the sky dancing around your face. “C-can you get up?” His voice breaks, chest heaving. “I can carry you. Don't make me carry you, love.”

You slide your hand onto his own. “Hobie,” your voice is soft above the mindless groaning below. His eyes beg you to move. So you do. “Okay,” with a single word, you bring him hope.

With divided effort, you both make it towards the roof of the pharmacy. He was uncharacteristically silent the whole way, but his hand never left yours. His eyes never met with your wounds that's slowly festering. You feel it inside you, the fever, the virus that's eating at you, spreading throughout your body, gnawing at every bit of your warmth like a seed taking root. Hobie feels it too, he's terrified that you're experiencing it too. It's his worst fears came to life only because he wasn't fast enough.

Opening the creaky door, he hopes that it's devoid of the undead. Like he's not on the brink of eating flesh, he does his usual prep. He strums his guitar softly to attract any walking corpses waiting behind doors, when none comes out, he cracks the door wider. With his torch, he lights up the way. But he doesn't feel your presence behind him.

Looking over his shoulder was a mistake, he finds you hunched over the doorway, groaning quietly, nails clawing at the throbbing wound around your neck. That's the moment he knew that you'd go out before him. For the first time, he curses his gifts.

Slowly, he crosses the distance towards you, shaking hands grasping your shoulders. You're warm, incredibly warm. “Love?” He could cry, but he doesn't want you to see his sorrow.

You sniff, tears streaming down your face from the pain and the tragedy of it all. You've accepted that you were infected, but not him, you'd take the virus from him too if you could. “I'm s-sorry, so fucking sorry. I should've—”

“Oi, none of that, yeah? You're gonna be fine.” He says it to convince himself. “You'll be back on your feet tomorrow and by then we'll see Yuri and the others.” Nodding, he takes you by your arm, careful of making your wounds worse. There's blood sticking to his clothes, seeping through his clammy skin. He hates the fact that it was yours. Bringing you behind the counter, you almost keep over. “I've got you, I've got you.” He says it against your temple like a prayer.

“H-Hobie.” You sob, salty tears marring your pretty face. “I can't— it hurts.” The gnawing feeling gets worse, as if a chainsaw is ripping you apart from the inside. “It's so hot, I–I can't breathe.”

“O-okay, I'll set you down ‘ere, get you comfortable. There's some fever meds over there. It'll help.” His hazel eyes pleads for anyone, anything that'll help you. He helps you sit down, and you immediately lie down on the cold tiles. “Do you want a blanket?”

“N-no,” you're hot and cold at the same time. “I don't know.” You look up at him, he sees the light in your eyes fading. “I don't feel so good, Hobs.”

Hobie could only look away from you, inhaling, exhaling but it doesn't feel like he's breathing right. He kneels down, setting his guitar next to you, palm placed on your forehead. “This is nothing, love.” He tries to smile, but fails. “Remember when you had the flu?” You nod weakly, “you were a fuckin' beast, you beat it on your own in just a few days.”

Even though you feel your heartbeat going faster and then slowing down in a weird rhythm like a heartbeat monitor going haywire, you smile for him. “I was, wasn't I?”

He rubs your bicep, under his touch, he feels your muscle twitch. “Yeah, you still are.”

You chuckle softly, tears sliding down your cheeks and into the cold tiles. “Okay, get me the meds.”

“That's my girl,” laying his forehead atop yours, he hopes that he'll take your pain away with the simple gesture, but it's futile. “I'll be back, I promise.”

“Don’t make me wait.”

Smiling, he squeezes your arm. “Never.” Standing up, he rummages through the entire place for the pills you need. Crouching down to check under the broken shelves, climbing up on the walls to get a bird's eye view, and all the while ignoring his own pain. It's slim pickings, but he manages to find a single bottle of tylenol that has rolled under a shelf, it's not enough, but it'll do.

With a victorious sigh, he quickly makes it to the counter, rounding the corner, he sees you wheezing, catching your breath and with blood leaking out from your eyes and ears. “No, no, no!” He takes you in his arms, making you sit up. “I've got the meds, love. Oi, open your eyes for me.” You crack one eye open tiredly. “That's it, good job.” He almost cries when you smile at him through the thick fog of illness.

“G-good job,” you murmur, he doesn't know if you're delirious or you're congratulating him for finding the medicine.

“Bottoms up.” He brings two pills to your mouth, to which you gladly take. Giving you his canteen, you drink most of it, downing the tepid water. “That's good, see, you're already gettin' better.”

You shake your head weakly, barely opening your eyes. “Thanks to you, Hobie.”

“Yeah, thanks to me.” He tries to joke but it comes out choked when blood still leaks out of your tear ducts. Sitting next to you, he now feels his temperature rise so he takes the same amount of pills as you.

You lay your head on his shoulder, hand shakily reaching towards his own. “I'm sorry.”

He almost breaks down at your apology. “Nothin' to apologize for, love.” Meeting your hand halfway, he intertwined his fingers with yours, you're cold now, frozen under his hold. “D’you want that blanket now?”

“Please,” you wheeze out.

Hobie obliges, taking a thick blanket from his pack and then draping it around you as if it'll protect you from the infection. “There, nice and cozy, eh?”

“Thank you,” he feels your crimson fall down on his collar. “For everything.”

“None of that, Y/N, please. None of that.”

“I still want to talk to you.” Your voice is soft and small. “I still want to stay with you.”

Hobie brings your intertwined hands to his lips, kissing each knuckle softly. “And we will be, after this—” a sob escapes from him. “After this, we'll be together, yeah? Just like how we talked about.”

“Forever and ever?”

His tears flow freely, “yeah, forever and ever.” After a beat of silence, he fears the worst. “Love?”

You cough, he sighs in relief. “Still here, Hobs, not leaving yet.”

“Not yet,” embracing you, he lays his chin atop your head, you're made comfortable in his hold. Home, you feel like you're back home in his houseboat, watching a shitty romcom while he rambles on about his patrol. You want to be back there again. He wants to be back there again. “Can I say somethin'?”

You hum into his chest, squeezing his hand tighter but your sickness, he barely felt it.

“I don't want to…” he could barely say it. “I don't want to kill you. ‘m sorry, I know we talked about it—”

You lean up, he's met with milky eyes, he knows you can barely see him now. “Then don't, I don't want you to—” you pause, clinging to humanity. “— to feel that before you go.”

Nodding, he kisses your forehead, crying, weeping into your skin. “I couldn't save you, ‘m so fuckin' sorry, love, ‘m so sorry.” He shakes, you gather enough strength to embrace him and bury yourself in his chest, letting his scent waft around you for comfort.

“Don't apologize, nothin' to apologize for.”

He sniffs, peppering your face with heavy weakened kisses. “Oi, don't use my own words against me.”

You smile against the rough leather of his jacket. “Can I say something?”

“Go,” he can practically see the countdown. “We have all the time in the world, love.” There's something warm leaking out of his eyes and ears. He's catching up to you.

You'd laugh but you can feel your life slipping through your fingers. “When we turn, I don't want us to be separated.”

“What do you propose?” He tries to inhale but he could only let out a sickening cough.

“Tie our hands together…really tight.” Your words fade away, but you still hold on.

“I've got rope here, I can do it now.”

“But I'll turn first, Hobie, I-I might—”

“It'll be my honour to be your first meal.”

“I'd laugh if we weren't dying right now.” Eyes too tired to open, you feel the rough rope around your wrist, and the unmistakable sound of a knot getting tied. You smile for the last time when you feel his fingers wrap around your own. “I love you.”

“How's that? Too tight?” He whispers close, he feels you slipping away, “Y/N? Love?” he breaks down when your hand falls limp around his own. “Not yet, please, not yet.” He holds you, rocking you back and forth like a babe needing to be held. Your heart doesn't beat in sync with his anymore. “C’mon, not yet, we still have to find the rest of the band, right?” His eyes cloud over, cold taking root inside his entire body. “Say somethin’, fuck!” He yells with all his might, “I love you, fuck, please wake up.”

Closing his eyes, he wraps you in what's left of his warmth. “Don't go, please.” Hobie pleads and cries until he can no longer breathe the same air as you. His last thoughts were of you.

[suugarbabe]

My LOVE, you brilliant beautiful minded human. I have another Enzo idea if youre up for it.

Ravenclaw!reader who is Theo's (any of the boys really) relative (i was think twin or sister in the year below but whatever you fancy really) who they're super protective of because we're smaller than them. And we're in a relationship with Enzo, which Theo isnt thrilled about but at least its someone he trusts.

Anyway, Ravenclaw x Slytherin match has just finished and on the way to the change rooms someone (probs Pucey) slaps reader on the ass and says something gross. Draco grabs Theo because "i will NOT have you benched for the rest of the season" but they forget Enzo who wacks him with his broom and beating him before turning to Draco and telling him he can shove quiditch up his ass.

Or something like that 🩶🩶

mmm love love

Your family was shocked when you got sorted in Ravenclaw. When Theo can been called up first, everyone knew he would be in Slytherin. When you, his twin, were called right after him and that sorting hat stalled slightly, the room became silent. When it shouted Ravenclaw, you thought you were doomed.

Thankfully, there's no bond like a twin bond, and regardless of your house Theo had you close by his side, which included his group of friends. So when you and Enzo started dating each other, Theo shouldn't have been surprised. However he was furious like a protective brother was.

Theo had made both you and Enzo sit on the common room couches as he gave you a 'stern talking to', which was really just an over-protective brother speech, giving the typical "I'll kill you if you hurt her Lorenzo" lines to which you rolled your eyes and Enzo just smiled, promising to protect you fiercely.

Luckily, being not only Enzo's girlfriend but Theo's sister meant that no one, ever, touched you, bothered you, bullied you; nothing. You were essentially protected on all sides at all times. You never really had to watch out for anyone, because someone was always watching over you.

So after the quidditch semi-finals, when you went to meet Enzo after the game by the locker rooms, you weren't expecting the events that transpired.

You had your back to the entrance, talking with Pansy while you both waited for the boys, when you heard the whining slime of Adrian Pucey.

"Two birds with one stone, you're not both waiting for me are you?" You scoffed, not even giving him the satisfaction of turning around. "Oi, fuck off you right prick," Pansy raised her hand, middle finger on display.

Upon hearing the commotion one of the other team members used their wand to open the curtain of the tent, just in time to see Pucey grab a handful of your ass and say, "I bet you'd like that wouldn't you, a good night on riding my prick would give you a fucking attitude change there, Nott."

Immediately Theo was on his feet, only to be grabbed by Draco, "No way, not here, I will not have you benched for the cup next week. We'll take care of him after that, you here me?"

Theo opened his mouth to respond, only to be cut off by the sound of bone cracking. In his haste to calm down your brother, both guys had forgotten about Enzo.

They both turned in time to see Enzo lift his broom up once more, swinging it down against Pucey's ribs before throwing it aside and swinging his fists. Theo and Draco let Enzo get a few good blows before running and pulling him off, Enzo still shouting at him, "You're a fuckin' dead man, Pucey! Dead! You hear me? Lucky I had my broom in my hand and not my wand or I'd Avada your bloody arse for touchin my girl!"

You knew it meant there was probably something toxic deep down inside you, but Merlin did that whole scene just turn you on. You couldn't help but walk right over to Enzo and pull him in to a harsh kiss, ignoring the protests and gags from Draco and your brother.

"C'mon, Enzie, let's go clean up your hands, hmm?"

[unnoticed-poison]

𝚈𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎! 𝙳𝚊𝚛𝚔! 𝙷𝚊𝚣𝚋𝚒𝚗 𝙷𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚕 𝚅𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚇 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 °【 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝟑 】°

【 𝕿𝖗𝖆𝖎𝖑𝖊𝖗 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕 】

【 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝟏 】

【 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝟐 】

【 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝟑 】

【 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝟒 】 𝕻𝖆𝖗𝖙 1

【 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝟒 】 𝕻𝖆𝖗𝖙 2

So I forgot I explained the situation in my other yandere fic but not this one so I'll do it now so everyone will know.

The reason some girls are genderbend is because I can't exactly write yaoi or yuri cause of my religion, the most I could do for them is turn them into males so they can be romantic yanderes, hope you guys understand.

Also because I like to write genderbend as well.

The treatment Valentino gives Angel Dust will be mentioned of course, and not all the girls will be genderbend, it depends on how the story will go.

So anyways enjoy the chapter ❣️

˖๑‧˚꒷꒦₊꒷꒦︶︶₊꒷꒦˚‧๑˖𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ˖๑‧˚꒷꒦︶︶₊꒷꒦₊꒷꒦˚‧๑˖

Things were not going so well for Charles at the meeting.

"And then I went ahead and invited her to my place-"

This 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘳 won't stop babbling about useless stuff and avoiding the topic at hand.

"- I failed to seduce her since she's so oblivious, but I can always try again next time," Adam said nonchalantly, taking a bite out of the rib as he glanced at him. "So what did you do this weekend?"

"Sir." The exterminator standing behind Adam looked less than thrilled while listening to his boss's chattering as well. " There's only a few minutes left for the meeting."

"Really? Oh well, you can start talking then."

Fucking finally.

Charles stood up after clearing his throat, holding up his papers as he started explaining the situation at hand.

"So I'm sure you're well aware of the overpopulation issue we're currently facing, I would like to suggest-"

Adam interrupted him. "OH that's not a problem at all! we're taking care of that just fine, Lute!" He called out as Lute stepped closer to him. "How many demons did you kill this year?"

The exterminator's voice was blunt as he answered. "Got a good 275 sir."

"275!? Badass! Awesome job danger dick." They fist-bumped as he said this, making the demon frown.

They're proud of that..?

"You know those are my people, right..?"

Adam laughed. "Of course! And that's what makes it even better!"

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Charles continued. "As I was saying, all our problems will be solved if we rehab those sinners and cleanse all their souls so they can join you guys in heaven and the extermination won't be needed anymore!"

He explained as fast as he could while holding up each paper. " The redeeming process will take place in my hote-"

"That's enough."

Huh?

"But I haven't finished yet-"

"I've heard more than enough, if what you're suggesting is letting those miserable fuckers climb up the ladder then you can forget about it, that's the dumbest idea I've ever heard in my long, loooong life."

"Everyone makes mistakes! They can redeem themselves-"

"They had the chance to do that when they were 𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦, now that they've earned damnation, it's no one's fault but their own," Lute spoke in a scornful tone, his eyes narrowed in disgust. "And for your information, angels 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 make mistakes."

Charles narrowed his eyes at him in return. " You really think so."

The man smirked. "I 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 so."

Adam, visibly annoyed, slammed his hands on the table, making them both stop. "Alright that's enough!"

He rose to his feet and made his way over to Charles until they were standing face to face. " Look here pal, hell is forever and there's nothing, and I mean absolutely 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 you can do about it, so I suggest you give up now, and I'll pretend I never heard any of that bullshit."

A sneer of contempt crept over his face as he towered over the boy, he looked too much like his father, just looking at him made him 𝘴𝘪𝘤𝘬.

"You should consider yourself lucky that damned snake gave you a pardon from the extermination or else you and your hellborn kind would've been dead a long time ago."

Charles could feel his blood boil, his face flushed in rage as he scowled at him.

This damned bastard-

Before he had a chance to respond, the angel suddenly stepped back.

"And now that I've got your and the audience's attention, I would like to announce that we've made a determination!" With a triumphant smirk, Adam turned his head to stare directly at where the camera was.

...?

Confused, Charles turned his head to where Adam was looking.

....

Shit!

There was a camera?!!

How come he didn't notice it!

"-To move up the next extermination."

What?!

"Wait a second that's not-!"

"I can't wait a whole year to slaughter those little cunts, I know the day just finished, but we'll be back in six months!" Taking hold of both the drone and Charles's hand, he sent a menacing smile to the camera. " Enjoy those next few months dear sinners! Cause they might be your last."

Once he said that, he roughly threw them out of the room and returned to his seat while bursting into a fit of laughter.

"Wait!" The demon exclaimed, papers scattered around him as he tried to enter the room again. "Hold on a moment!"

"Now where is my favorite angel-" was the last thing he heard Adam say before the door slammed shut in his face.

......

Frustrated beyond words, his face scrunched up in anger as he slammed his fist into the door.

"Fuck!"

This was not how this was supposed to go!

He made things WORSE.

He then heard a voice come from the small drone.

"Looks like Lucifer's brat fucked things up for us all! What a shocker, I'm sure your father will be 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥."

....

He squeezed his eyes shut, letting out a deep sigh as he dropped his head, feeling defeated.

"Excuse me, are those yours?"

Huh?

Charles lifted his head and looked over his shoulder.

Despite the woman being out of uniform and wearing a simple dress, he was certain that she was one of the angels with the wings and halo.

Moreover, the giant hammer in her hand, still dripping with blood, served as a stark reminder of her rank.

Her other hand was holding the papers he drew at the hotel, with a basket hanging from her wrist.

Was that an egg?

Despite being a little disturbed by the sight, he couldn't help but be drawn by her looks.

She's pretty...

"Sir?"

Charles snapped out of it, a flush spread across his cheeks when he realized he'd been staring too long.

With a sheepish nod, he stood up and brushed off his clothes as he went over to you.

"Oh yeah they're mine!"

With a nod, you extended the papers. "Here you go then." You said, handing him the papers, some were stained with blood.

He looked at the stained papers for a moment before taking them off your hand. "Am.. thanks."

"No problem, have a nice day."

With that being said, you walked past him and towards the room he just got kicked out of.

His eyes followed your back for a moment, letting out a heavy sigh and turning around to leave when he suddenly paused in his tracks.

Wait..

𝘚𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦

𝘐 𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘥𝘶𝘤𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳

𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦'𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘭?

Perhaps you're the one that arrogant prick was talking about?

𝘍𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦..𝘴𝘦𝘥𝘶𝘤𝘦...

Maybe it wasn't too late yet!

If he could convince you of his project then maybe...

Perhaps you could help change Adam's mind as well!

Or at the very least move the extermination back to once a year like usual.

"Miss! Please wait!"

Turning back, he quickly headed over to you.

Upon hearing that, you paused and turned back to him with a raised brow. "Do you need anything?"

"I'd like to speak with you about something urgent."

You silently glanced back at the door and then back at the blonde, you had arrived just in time to witness him get thrown out by your boss.

So you had a pretty good guess on why he wanted to discuss with you.

"I'm sorry but my boss's words are final, I have no say in them, so whatever you spoke with him about I can't do anything."

That was mostly a lie, but the blonde didn't need to know that.

"Please! I beg you, it will only take a minute."

Gazing at the sheer desperation on the man's face, you couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for him.

..........

.....

Damnit.

You finally let out a sigh. "Go ahead, I can't promise anything though."

?!

Charles's face lit up with happiness as he gave you a beaming smile.

"Thank you!"

Despite your visible disinterest, the man excitedly explained his entire project to you in detail.

There might be hope to clean up the mess he made after all.

��๑‧˚꒷꒦₊꒷꒦︶︶₊꒷꒦˚‧๑˖𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ˖๑‧˚꒷꒦︶︶₊꒷꒦₊꒷꒦˚‧๑˖

Hope you guys liked the chapter!

I really need to focus back on my Yandere Animation Studios fic, that thing only has the trailer chap posted 😭

Anyways until next time ❣️

[tojisangrylittlething]

Can you do Gojo Satoru x reader (also his age like idk they went to schopl together) and they r dating but the reader almost dies and then treats their death mockingly as if as a joke? How would Gojo react?

Have a lovely day! 🪷

summary: death has always been a joke to you, but your boyfriend isn't very pleased with your sick sense of humor.

tw: canon typical violence, near-death experience, cussing, pre-hidden inventory arc, hurt to comfort

wc: 3.4k

a/n: your wish is my command lovely anon! sorry it took me a bit to complete! you're my first ever ask, so i hope this is what you wanted <3

satoru is currently walking through the courtyard of jujutsu tech. it's his second year as a student and his reputation as the strongest grows by the day. he feels incredibly lucky to have met his friends, such as suguru and ieiri.

but then there's you.

the bright-eyed first year who caught his attention the minute you walked through the doors of the school. shyly introducing yourself, holding out your hand shakily with a timid smile adorning your breathtaking features.

satoru was starstruck, his brain short-circuited and he forgot how to fucking breathe. it took him at least 2 whole minutes to shake your hand and give you an adequate greeting.

as you walked away with nanami and haibara, satoru couldn't help but watch as you did. your hips swaying and hands swinging freely at your sides, laughing at something haibara said. god, satoru will never forget your smile for as long as he lives.

suguru about had to unleash a curse on his best friend to get him to come back to planet earth.

from that day forward, satoru knew that he had to have you. whatever satoru gojo wants, satoru gojo gets.

after a few months of pining and romantic gestures, satoru finally convinced you to go on a date. as the date was coming to a close, he kissed you under the vibrant lights on the city streets of tokyo. the only time that he ever hesitated was when he asked you to be his partner, to be the one who loved and cared for him despite his flaws.

satoru couldn't help but kiss you again the second you said yes, completely overwhelmed with the feeling of joy.

now, six months later, your relationship has bloomed into something exquisite. you've shared many laughs, cries, and tender moments that satoru cherishes deeply in his soul.

he currently walks to see yaga, something about having a new mission for him. you're supposed to be back from your own respective mission today and satoru hopes he'll get to see you before he leaves.

satoru hears his phone ringing from his pocket, he reaches down and grabs it, eyes scanning over the caller ID.

shoko is calling...

he furrows his brows, a bit confused as to why she would be calling. shrugging it off, he presses the green answer button and holds it up to his ear.

"shoko! to what do i owe the-"

the sound of her sniffling immediately stops satoru in his tracks.

"shoko? what's going on?"

he hears her clear her throat and she sighs. gojo chews the dead skin off his bottom lip anxiously, speculating what she could say next.

"something happened to y/n. we're in the medical wing."

satoru feels his heart drop straight to his stomach, eyes growing wide at her words. he thinks he mumbles something along the lines of i'm on my way, but he's not entirely sure. the blood rushing through his ears makes his hearing sound muffled.

he half-hazzardly shoves his phone back into his pocket, taking off toward the medical wing of the school. his thoughts consumed with nothing but you.

---

when satoru arrives, he's shocked by what he sees.

there you are, lying in the white cot with your eyes closed. your skin is abnormally pale, the vibrant glow you always held has now turned dull. you're wrapped in bandages and an IV drip is connected to the top of your hand.

satoru keeps his face blank, afraid that if he shows any emotion he will break down. internally, his brain is screaming for you, what could have possibly happened to you that you're in this condition?

he always swore to you that he'd protect you, not only was that his job as one of the strongest sorcerers of the age, but also as your devoted boyfriend.

"you know i will always protect you, right my love?"

you smiled sweetly at him, eyes crinkling at the corners and nose scrunching up adorably, "of course i know that toru."

that interaction plays in his head like a broken record. he wasn't there for you.

shoko approaches him cautiously, unsure of what her friend is thinking. satoru's face is void of emotions, but she can see the turmoil swimming in his eyes, even from behind his sunglasses. his usually radiant blue eyes are now dark and frigid.

shoko reaches her hand out to touch him, but pulls it back deciding against it. she knows satoru has to be on high alert right now, so surely his infinity is on.

satoru finally looks at shoko, remorse is written all over her face. her eyes are slightly downcast and there's a frown on her lips. she looks him up and down, trying to assess what he's feeling.

he looks back to you, "what happened?" satoru mumbles out, his voice is eerily calm, but there's a waver behind it.

shoko turns her gaze to where gojo's is, the events of the mission playing over in her head. she shakes her head, willing those images to go away.

"the intel was wrong. it was supposed to be a grade 3, but it was a grade 1."

satoru stays quiet as he takes in the information. he clenches his fists in anger, how could they possibly mistake something like that? their one miscalculation leads to the light of his life on their deathbed.

shoko takes his silence as her cue to continue, "the curse threw an attack aimed at me, but y/n threw themselves in front of me. they took the blow head on."

shoko hears the shake in her own voice and feels the tears begin to gather in her waterline. she always viewed you as a younger sibling, looking out for you and having your back whenever you would need her.

"i used my technique and healed them the best i could, but now we have to play the waiting game."

shoko turns to gojo after finishing her sentence and she becomes even more worried for him.

gojo's fists shake from how tightly he clutches down on them, his knuckles are extruding due to the force he is using. shoko can hear the grinding of his teeth with how brutally he is clenching them, any harder he might break a tooth.

before shoko can stop herself, she puts a comforting hand on his arm. she's shocked to find that his infinity is off.

shoko composes herself then, hand squeezing his arm comfortingly, "i'm so sorry gojo, i'm so so sorry."

satoru turns his eyes to her and sees the apologetic look she wears on her face. he sighs and lets go of his fists, shooting her a small smile, "it's not your fault shoko, don't blame yourself."

silence falls across the room then, the only sound being heard is the steady beeping of the heart monitor you're attached to. satoru and shoko are unable to stop staring at you, each of their hearts breaking in different ways for the state that you're in.

"i'm going to wait with them until they wake up."

gojo says nothing else as he plops himself in the uncomfortable chair next to your bedside. he grasps your hand in his, your hand is cold and it makes his insides twist.

shoko watches gojo for a moment, noting how gentle he is with you and the soft look in his eyes. she can physically see all of the love that walking behemoth holds for you.

she bows slightly and makes her way out of the room, running off to tell yaga what has happened and that gojo will not leave your side. she knows him well enough to know that he would cause an absolute shitstorm before anyone takes him away from you.

as soon as shoko leaves, satoru can't help the anxiety that eats away at him. all of the worst possible scenarios being the only thing he can think of.

he frowns deeply and uses his free hand to rub at his eyes, not wanting to shed any tears over something that may not happen.

satoru glides his thumb softly over your wrist, he's able to feel your pulse and it's weak. this causes him to sigh, taking in your figure and the injuries all over your skin.

"wake up soon my love, i'll be waiting."

---

you have no idea what time it must be when you wake up, the lighting in the room blinding you from how bright it is.

this causes you to squint your eyes, trying to get your eyes to adjust to the sudden intrusion to your vision.

when you look around you, you see that your in a room in the medical wing of the school. since becoming a sorcerer, you've grown familiar with the disgusting hospital white that paints the walls. the smell alone making you scrunch up your face with how putrid it is.

after a few minutes of observation, you feel something in your left hand.

you look in that direction and see your beautiful boyfriend satoru. he is bent forward, laying his head on the bed you also lay in with his head resting on his forearms. his eyes are closed and he's snoring softly, a stark contrast to how tightly he is gripping your hand.

you can't help the small smile that finds its way to your lips, your free hand reaching for him. you run your fingers lightly through his snow-white hair, scratching lightly at his scalp.

your movements cause him to stir, he faintly and his eyes blink open slowly.

he glances around the room briefly when his eyes finally find yours, the smile you wear is so tender that satoru believes it to be an illusion.

you try to speak to him but you start coughing violently, your throat dry from being asleep for so long.

satoru scrambles to your bedside table, grabbing the water cup and holding it to your lips.

you grasp at it and drink it quickly, your body feels as if it hasn't drank in days.

when you've finished the water, satoru plucks it from you and sets it back on the table. he faces you again and squeezes your hand, smiling at you affectionately, "welcome back, baby."

you return the loving smile and squeeze his hand back, a rasp to your voice, "hi."

satoru cradles your head, his eyes taking in every single feature on your face. his smile falters almost imperceptibly, his eyes looking directly into yours, "almost lost you there."

you wave him off, chuckling extraneously, "it's fine satoru, could've been worse."

his frown seems to deepen even more, "you almost died, baby. i don't understand how it could be worse."

you look around nonchalantly with a light expression on your face, "oh, i don't know, i could actually be dead."

satoru furrows his brows at you, pulling away from you slightly, "baby, i'm serious. you could have died."

you grin at him, honestly finding his serious behavior amusing, "it's no big deal toru."

satoru completely pulls away from you then, shocked by how your treating the situation, "no big deal? this is a big deal y/n."

you roll your eyes and snicker at him, hilarity dancing in your eyes, "no it's not satoru, it's just part of the job. although, that would not have been a cool way to go. only a grade one? come on." you groan out by the end, embarrassed that it wasn't a special grade that landed you here.

satoru is frozen in his spot, completely appalled at the way you're handling this. he thought of all the ways you would wake up, but he didn't account for this one.

sure, satoru has done incredibly reckless things, come on he's satoru gojo. he only commits those acts because he knows he has an insurance policy in place, his infinity. he's convinced the only thing that can kill him is himself.

you, however, do not have his technique.

yes, you're an incredibly powerful sorcerer, working your way up the ranks quickly. gojo believes that one day you'll sit beside him and suguru as the strongest.

but today is not that day.

you threw yourself at a walking hand grenade for fucks sake, the fact that you even survived is shocking. he's grateful to the gods that you did, but he only wishes you would take this a bit more earnestly.

satoru takes both of your hands in his, rubbing his thumbs back and forth absentmindedly.

"baby, i need you to listen to me carefully."

when he looks up at you, you're looking straight at him. you have a passive look on your face, a small smirk fixed on your lips, "satoru, i told you it's-"

satoru grip on your hands grows tighter, his eyebrows scrunching up in frustration and his eyes are full of anguish. he can't help the volume that his voice rises to, unable to hold back any longer, "no, no it's not fine! i almost fucking lost you today, and for what, because you decided to dive in front of something equivalent to a fucking missile?"

you roll your eyes at your boyfriend and yank your hands out of his grasp, your arms cross over your chest and you huff out in annoyance, the glare you send satoru cutting through your once light-hearted facade, "and what was i supposed to do? let shoko take the hit?"

satoru scoffs at that, the words spilling out of his mouth like an uncontrollable fire, "this isn't about shoko, this is about you. do you have no regard for your own life that you'd just throw it all away?"

you fire right back at him, annoyance beginning to boil in your gut and popping right out of the top, "i'm not throwing my fucking life away! shoko was about to be blown to smithereens! i accepted death when i became a sorcerer, have you?"

satoru cannot believe what he's hearing and it clearly shows on his face, his mouth morphs into a scowl and his eyes are so dark you can't even see his pupils anymore, "at least i wouldn't have wound up here, clinging to a life i obviously don't give a shit about."

the look on your face could kill anyone in a 5 mile radius, your eyes throwing daggers and your mouth shooting bullets, "maybe i should have died on that field, at least then i wouldn't have the honored one trying to dictate my life."

you're panting heavily, you can feel your body shaking with rage and you can hear the heart monitor beeping rapidly.

satoru is a different story.

his breathing is opposite of yours, it seems to have come to a halt. his pupils are blown wide and his mouth is open slightly, trying to see if he heard you correctly.

he sighs dejectedly and pinches the bridge of his nose. he's attempting to think of something to say, but he's coming up empty handed.

you hear him rustling about and turn your gaze back to him. you see him stand with his hands in his pockets, his shoulders hunched and looking completely deflated.

he looks through you with an empty stare trying to mask the pain he's feeling, mouth pulled into a thin line, "you know what? fine. if you want to go on a suicide run, fine, do what you wish. i will have no part in it."

what he says next is like a harpoon being shot through your heart.

"if you are that willing to leave everything behind, i want no part of you either."

you feel as if the world has stopped spinning on its axis. the gravity of his words crushing you, turning you into mere atoms of a human being.

regret begins to wash over you, an apology sitting on the tip of your tongue but you can't form the words. your breaths are now coming out in short pants, your heart and lungs feel like they're being shattered from the inside.

"i love you more than my dreams would ever allow, but i still want to be able to love you and not your corpse."

you put your head in your hands, wishing that the ground would open up and swallow you whole. you dig your nails into your cranium with so much strength you think you broke skin.

you don't even know if satoru is still here, too engrossed in the thought of him leaving you.

to others, your relationship may seem like a juvenile affair, but that's not the case.

in the world of jujutsu, you see and experience a multitude of things that a teenager should never have to go through. you're sent off like soldiers to war, fighting against something that is greater than yourselves. death is simply inevitable, it's in the job description. some sorcerers thrive, while others wither away.

joking about your impending demise has been your way of coping with it. an unhealthy coping mechanism, but what else are you supposed to do? live your life too tentatively and miss out on the beauty it has to offer?

that's why you loved satoru.

he was always a ray of sunshine in your life. a shining star in your dark universe, providing light and warmth in his wake. the day he asked you to be his significant other, you were beyond happy. the delicate glances he gives you, the soft kisses he greets and leaves you with, the love that he reserves only for you.

all of these things make it easier to face the horrors every time you leave the school because you know when you come home, satoru will be waiting for you with open arms.

without him? you don't know what you would do.

realizing that not having him in your life might soon be a reality, you break down into a sob. the faucet behind your eyes turned on and not stopping anytime soon. you're wailing so loud, it's a surprise no one has come in to investigate.

you grip the ends of the gown on your body, trying to ground yourself. you finally find the ability to speak, shouting i'm sorry over and over.

you're now convinced that satoru has left, leaving you to your own devices.

you're proven wrong when a familiar pair of warm arms wrap themselves around you.

satoru pulls you into his chest and you clutch the fabric of his uniform tightly in your hands. you're sobbing so hard that you think you might be sick.

"i'm sorry satoru, i'm sorry. please don't leave, don't leave me alone."

he doesn't say anything, just continues to hold you and cradle your head, rubbing his hand up and down the expanse of your back.

"i don't want to leave everything. i love my life, especially with you in it."

your sobs have calmed down into hiccups and sniffles, the tears now trickling down your cheeks.

"i-i want to live a long life with you, where we grow old and wrinkly and hobble around with a cane."

that gets a small chuckle out of satoru, "i have to admit baby, you'd look good in a moomoo."

you hit him on the shoulder with a small laugh, but quickly revert back to your serious manner, "i'm not kidding satoru, i love you and i want to be with you on this day, until our last day."

he grabs your face in his hands and angles you so you're looking right at him, "i love you, more than anything, but baby i need you to hear me."

he presses your forehead against his, staring directly into your eyes you can feel it in your soul, "i can't love you the way i want to if you're dead. i need you to promise me that you will look after yourself, i won't always be there to keep you in check. i need you to come back to me in one piece."

you think over it for a moment, satoru wants what's best for you, and you should want that too.

you whisper softly, afraid of ruining the moment, "i promise."

you seal the promise with a kiss, running your hands through satoru's hair while he grabs you by your waist to pull you closer.

you kiss each other with a newfound passion, the love you share untethered.

"jesus christ, really?"

"it's a miracle they didn't do anything else on this bed."

you try to pull away, flustered at being caught, but gojo keeps on kissing you with fervor. of course, not without throwing his middle finger up at his friends who chuckle behind him.

[y-rhywbeth2]

Next stage in the 'who has a bigger body count' competition Astarion started yesterday, while praying I can use a calculator correctly:

Bhaal VS Cazador: Deaths in Baldur's Gate over the last 15 years.

I counted about 22 active Bhaalists (including Orin, Sarevok and Durge), who, having to murder once every ten days, have about 12,045 kills between them. However, as briefly mentioned in game, most of them do not reside in Baldur's Gate and also Bhaal's clergy are usually a little nomadic, so this wouldn't have been too highly focused on the Gate.

They do need to kill a living thing every day, so that's also another 108,405 dead things which may or may not be human/oid.

As for the vampires, assuming they don't have a massive herd of blood dolls:

While vampires do need to feed a little less as they age, it's still not that much lower.

A typical Fledgling vampire must drink 12 hit points worth of blood in every 24-hour period. The source of this blood is immaterial; it can come from living victims, fresh corpses, animals, or even sealed “caches" of chilled blood. - Van Richten's Guide to Vampires

The typical person, people with adventuring classes being rarer, has 4 hit points. Or less. Sometimes you're lucky and 5e upgrades them to 1d8 with an average of 4. Add in older editions and level drain and normal people do not survive being fed on by vampires.

Judging by talking to Astarion, Cazador does drain his prey dry more often than not.

So on average Cazador has needed 3 kills a day, and over the past 15 years that's 3 kills every one of 5,475 days. Which is apparently 16,425 dead bodies. (7000 is small change to vampires and Archdevils alike, apparently. I keep coming back to this, but Mephistopheles' deal is extremely and suspiciously cheap.) Each spawn has needed about 12 rats each: 65,700 rats dead each, 459,900 rats altogether. I assume they feed the corpses to the ghouls.

Cazador forbidding his spawn human blood actually makes perfect sense. Aurelia and Astarion have been with him for most of that 200 years. Cazador has murdered at least the equivalent of 73,000 people, if those two also feed properly it's now 219,000 people. Petras and I assume Violet, are about 100: 109,500 kills each (or more). 438,000 people. Yousen is 60 (65,700), Dalyria less than 50 due to being a Peer (54,750); Leon's less than 12 (13,140). Altogether this 'family' would have killed aprox. 571,590 people over the last two centuries.

The Western Heartlands' city and town populations, circa 14th century, were:

Baldur's Gate: 42,103 Elturel: 22,671 Evereska: 21,051 Berdusk: 20,242 Iriaebor: 16,193 Scornubel: 14,574 High Edge: 9,716 Asbravn: 5,668 Hluthvar: 5,668 Beregost: 2,915 Secomber: 1,417 Daggerford: 891 Corm Orp: 810

Census indicates the Western Heartlands' total permanent population was 163,919, of which Cazador would have consumed the equivalent of 44.53%. I can only assume that he either fasts a lot or mixes in some animal blood (which would not have made him fun to be around for the spawn), or we're drawing off of VtM logistics and he has control of blood banks and a herd of living people he keeps alive plus just feeding off of his spawn to top him up between murders (which does explain the human staff).

I'm not counting the amounts of rats and mice consumed, but honestly I think there's money to be made hiring your spawn out as a pest control service. Assuming they don't drive themselves out of business.

There is absolutely no way the 7000 spawn in the cells should be anything but feral howling messes who are scrabbling for rats and bugs and cannibalising each other, assuming they haven't just shrivelled into the state of torpor from lack of blood to fuel the magic keeping their bodies animate. There is no feasible way to keep them fed. I don't even think there are enough rodents in the city to feed them...

Meanwhile Bhaalists have been active for 130 years since the end of the Bhaalspawn crisis, and have killed around 4,745 people each in that time. Luckily, they've been quite low in number, mostly nomadic, and only recently had a revival (which is still low population) so that probably not too many.

Verdict: DnD maths is poorly thought out and the vampires win the murder competition by goddamn miles. While Bhaal wins overall, due to having 1300+ years of murders to his name, Cazador's recent activity is higher, and Astarion has been accomplice to the number of murders that Durge only dreams of. Durge is still winning in the sadism and first degree murder count though.

[lixzey]

Heart to Heart

super thanks to @lilmaymayy for all the help 🤍

ONE. TWO. THREE.

warnings: mentions of death, car accident, hospitalization, and surgery.

wc: 2.8k

Y/N L/N had it all. A perfect life, a loving family, friends, you name it.

She's a beautiful woman with a heart and soul to match it. But, she's dying.

Her heart, it's killing her. She has everything, except a heart donor. Her heart has a hole, and it's keeping her from living her life. 

“M-Mom..I-I can't breathe, it hurts...” Then everything faded to black.

Y/N woke up in a room with clean white walls, crisp white bed sheets and the sickening smell of disinfectant. The only thing she could hear was the silent beeping of the monitor, she was in the hospital—again. 

Y/N closed her eyes shut, she didn't want to be in this place. She had already spent all her life in hospitals, she didn't want to die in one. Then, she heard hushed voices—one of which was her mother.

“Doc, is my daughter okay? Will she be okay?” her mom asked, her voice shaky.

“I'm sorry, Mrs. L/N.” 

“H-how long?” 

“Six months—a year, if we're lucky.” 

Y/N's mom let out a shaky exhale, “Is...is there any other way?” 

“The only way your daughter can survive is a heart transplant. Your daughter's condition is very critical, and there may be some complications if the transplant isn't done as soon as possible. That six months? It could be possible that she'd die today, tomorrow, next week, next month. Anything can happen, and if I were you I'd find a donor as soon as possible.” Then the doctor left, leaving Y/N's mom to break down silently. 

“M-Mom?” Y/N asked in a hoarse dry voice.

Her mom turned around, and forced a smile—her cheeks were stained with fresh tears and her eyes were red and puffy—probably from being sleep deprived. 

“Mom, am I going to die?” Y/N whispered, her voice breaking. Her mom quickly rushed to her side, hugging her tight. 

“Mom, I'm- I don't wanna die! I can't die! I want to chase my dreams, Mom! I want to live-”

“It's going to be alright, sweetheart. I won't let you die, I won't.”

Y/N felt the whole world crumble. She was too young to die. She was barely even in her early twenties—she was only twenty three—and already spent her life in hospitals. She wasn't even finished with college, all she wanted to do ever since she was a little girl was to be  a lawyer, and now with her declining condition it would be a miracle to reach 24. She isn't supposed to die, she was supposed to live her dreams—not be stuck in a hospital room or six feet under ground. 

It has been two weeks since Y/N's diagnosis. And still, she had no donor. It was honestly nerve wracking—simply  knowing that your days are limited, Y/N had no idea if she'd be alive the next day or even the next hour. It was torture, her heart and chest aching every minute of day. She couldn't get out of her bed—or even eat for that matter. 

Y/N L/N had a lot of things on her list she wanted to do. She had dreams, big fucking dreams. Y/N dreamt of becoming one of the most prestigious lawyers the world has ever seen. She was a bright kid growing up—she always had good grades and usually never let her illness get the best of her, but when it did she made sure to still make an effort to complete each and every homework assignment. And now because of her illness, she'd lose all of the good things in her life. There were so many  things Y/N still wanted to do, and one of them was falling in love. 

Y/N sighed, she was tired of her life being a complete opposite of what she wanted. She grabbed her phone from her nightstand and scrolled through her tiktok, hoping for a bit of good news around the world—like world peace or maybe mother earth is healing. 

“Timothée Chalamet's girlfriend, dead on the spot in a car crash!”

“Poor guy.” Y/N muttered as she read the comments on the video. Why was life that cruel? Sure, Y/N didn't know the guy, but based on the comments he loved his girlfriend. 

“Y/N, darling! It's time for dinner! You still need to take your medicine!” Y/N's mom called from downstairs. Y/N slowly stood up, her vision was suddenly blurry—her chest tightened and her heart felt like it was stabbed—this wasn't like any episode she ever had.  She fell to the floor with a loud thud, her eyes fighting to stay open. 

The last thing Y/N heard was her mom screaming for help before everything went pitch black.

Timothée woke up with a terrible feeling, like something had happened—or something bad was going to happen. He had just gotten home from Paris fashion week and he was still jet lagged. Timothée brushed the feeling off, yawning as he got up from his bed, walking to his bathroom to get ready for the day—even if he had nothing to do. 

Suddenly his phone rang, it was Zendaya. 

“What's up, Z?“ Timothée asked, his voice still groggy. 

“Are you okay? Fuck, I can't imagine what you're feeling right now, Tim. Condolence-” Timothée's eyes widened, “What the hell are you talking about, Z?” 

“Oh shit, you don't know yet?” 

“What do I don't know, Zendaya? You're scaring me.” 

“I'm so sorry, Tim. Check the news.” Timothée quickly ended the call. He opened every social media account that he had, until he found the news.

“Timothée Chalamet's girlfriend, dead on the spot in a car crash!”

Timothée felt his whole world shatter. He felt numb as tears prickled against his eyes, beginning to stream down his face. Timothée called his girlfriend's best friend, frantically asking what hospital she was taken to. He grabbed his car keys and bolted out of his house. Timothée was shaking, he wanted to kill whoever crashed into his girlfriend's car. He drove as fast as he could, his vision was getting blurred by tears—but he didn't care. He needed to get to her. He needed to get to his Kaylee. 

As soon as Timothée arrived at the hospital, he parked his car—not caring if it was too far from the entrance—and ran toward the hospital.

“Where's Kaylee Jenkins!?” Timothée practically screamed at the nurse on duty.

“Timothée.” He looked back and saw his and Kaylee's friends, Tom and Hannah. 

“Where is she!?” Timothée roared, grabbing Tom's collar angrily. 

“Calm down, Timothée!” Hannah snapped at him, pulling him off of Tom. 

“How am I supposed to calm down!? My girlfriend is dead! The love of my fucking life is dead! Tell me where the fuck she is before I fucking lose it!” 

“Timothée Hal!” 

“Tell me!” Timothée yelled again. 

Tom sighed, feeling hurt for his friend,  “Take him to Kaylee. I'll wait for Zendaya and Kaylee's family.” 

Hannah led Timothée to the morgue. As soon as she opened the door, Timothée saw her—the only body inside of the morgue—covered by a white sheet. He let out a shaky breath before he slowly lifted the cloth covering Kaylee's face. 

His beautiful Kaylee, bruised and bloody.

“I'll leave you alone for a bit.” Hannah patted him on his shoulder, before walking out and giving him time with his beloved. 

Timothée stared at Kaylee, the woman he loved for three years, the woman he wanted to marry—gone—taken away from him. He touched her lips that he always kissed, her nose that always scrunched when she got annoyed, and her once rosy cheeks that he loved to pinch. He kissed her forehead, for the last time.

“I love you, Kaylee.” Timothée whispered, tears streaming from his green eyes. “You're so unfair, Kaylee. You said that we'd be together forever, you said you'd never leave me, but you did. You promised we'd grow old together, that we'd build a life together....” Timothée sobbed, “I will never forget you, my love. I love you so fucking much, you're the only girl I will ever love like this.” 

Y/N woke up back in the hospital. Her mother was smiling from ear to ear, “What happened, Mom?” Y/N asked. 

“You fainted again. Don't worry, you're okay. You finally have a heart donor!” her mother smiled, “You're going to live!” 

“Really?” Y/N almost squealed, “H-How? What happened?” 

Y/N's mom softy smiled and kissed her daughter's forehead. “Sadly, another girl passed away, but her parents agreed to donate her heart for you. But you're going to live, sweetheart. You're going to live and be able to grow old.” she whispered. 

“Thank you, Mom.” 

Y/N finally felt hope for one, hope for her future, hope for her life. She finally had a chance to live, without worrying if one day her heart would just stop. It was a miracle—a chance to know how her life would turn out. A gift she'd be thankful for the rest of her life. 

Y/N asked her mother who was her heart donor. Her mother said it was from a girl who died in a car accident. Y/N was first on the list of donees, and her mother had already talked to her donor's parents—they agreed, because somehow they could feel their daughter's presence even if she's gone, because I'd have her heart. Everything was ready, she would be operated on as soon as possible.  

After the operation, Y/N woke up with her mother beside her. 

“Mom?” Y/N croaked out. 

“Y/N.” Her mother smiled at her, tears were forming in her mother's eyes. 

“Why are you crying, mom?” 

“I thought I'd lose you forever, Y/N/N.” her mother sniffled, “I'm so happy, darling. You're alive and well, what more can a mother ask for?”

After a week, Y/N finally went home. She'd continue her recovery at home, and day by day she was getting better. 

Six months later.

“Y/N, darling? Go get ready, we're going somewhere.”  

“Where are we going?” Y/N asked. 

“The parents of the girl who donated your heart wants to meet you.”

“Oh, okay. I'll go get ready.” Y/N smiled at her mother before turning to get ready. 

She was going to meet the parents of the person who gave her a chance to live again. 

Y/N and her mother drove an hour and a half to a house in the Bronx. As soon as Y/N got out of the car, she saw a man with beautiful green eyes and chocolate brown curls looking at her. Her heart suddenly started pounding in her chest. The man gave her a small smile, before walking away. He looked miserable—like he hasn't slept in days—months even. 

“Good morning, Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins.” Y/N's mother greeted an older couple—they were around their late forties.

“Oh nonsense! Call us Marian and Adam.” the woman—Marian—smiled warmly. “And you must be Y/N, right?” Y/N nodded, “Yes, ma'am.” Suddenly, both Marian and Adam hugged her tightly. Y/N stumbled back a bit, but she let them hug her. She assumed it felt comforting—maybe because they could hear their daughter's heart inside her. 

“Sorry, I hope you don't mind,” the older woman apologised as she pulled away from Y/N, “It's just, it feels like I'm hugging Kaylee again and-” 

“No worries Marian,” Y/N smiled, “You can hug me as long as you want. I may not be Kaylee, but I can be like a daughter to you.” 

Marian started to sob, “Thank you, Y/N. It means a lot to me, to us.” 

Then suddenly, the man who Y/N saw earlier came up to her and hugged her tight. She didn't know what was happening, the man was hugging her tight—tighter than what Marian and Adam did. But, Y/N didn't pull away. His hug felt like coming home. Y/N felt her heart beat rapidly, like banging drums. 

After a few minutes—yes, minutes—the man pulled away from Y/N. The two locked eyes, and Y/N felt time stood still around her, like everything was a movie. 

Marian and Adam led Y/N and her mother to their backyard. They talked for a bit—told her to take care of herself and always stay safe. Of course they'd say that, because their daughter's heart was inside her.  

Y/N found out the name of the man who hugged her. He was Timothée Chalamet, Kaylee's boyfriend of three years. He's a famous actor, but Y/N didn't know him. How would she even know him? She spent all her life inside hospitals—she really didn't have the time to watch movies or Hollywood dramas. 

“Hey, it's been great meeting you and,  uh-this may be an awkward o-or forward question, but, uh-do you think I can get your number? I'd like to get to know you better.” Timothée asked, a hopeful look plastered on his face. 

“Yeah sure, it's no problem.”

Ever since Y/N and Timothée exchanged numbers, they’ve been texting each other back and forth. It even became Y/N’s routine to start her day with sending him a “good morning” and ending it with a reply to Timothee’s “goodnight”. 

Until one day Timothée texted her, asking if she'd like to go out with him. 

Hey

What's up, Tim?

Do you have plans tomorrow night?

Uh, none that I could think of. Why?

Can I ask you out?

What?

On a date. Or maybe just hang out? I don't know, we can do whatever you want. 

When Y/N read his offer to go on a date and she squealed into her pillow, kicking her feet up in the air at the excitement rumbling in her stomach. She knew it was wrong. He was-or is still grieving, he just lost his girlfriend of three years in an instant. But with his charming words, his sexy voice, mesmerizing green eyes, and his perfect face she couldn't help a slight crush forming. She was talking to a celebrity, and it felt like a dream—like something you'd see only in movies. 

“Mom, Timothée just asked me out.” 

“What? Really? Y/N, that's amazing! You're going on a date for the very first time!” her mom teased. 

Y/N has never exactly been on a date before but this is how it would be like, right? 

The next day, Y/N got ready for her date—or to hang out with Timothée, as a friend— or maybe something more? hopefully anyways. She was giddy, she was going on a date with a handsome guy who just so happened to be a famous actor. Who wouldn't be excited? Y/N wore a simple off-shoulder blue dress that flourished just above her knees and some white strappy wedge heels. Her hair was braided to the side with some simple lip gloss, foundation, and blush for makeup. 

After waiting for what felt like hours, their doorbell rang. It's him, he's actually here, picking her up for an entire day together. When Y/N opened the door, she saw him wearing a white shirt under a leather jacket paired with denim jeans. His hair was perfectly messy—Y/N wanted to run her fingers through his curls so badly. Timothée Chalamet is undeniably handsome, as if he was carved by the gods. 

“Y-you look beautiful, Y/N.”

“Thanks, you look good too.” Y/N chuckled nervously. Timothée led Y/N to his car and opened the door for her. Timothée took Y/N to one of his favourites. Buvette Gastrotheque—a small french café in West Village. The place was cosy, quaint, and there weren't a lot of people. Sitting down at a small table, Timothée ordered the COQ au Vin while Y/N got the Salade de Poulet. They paired it off with red wine, and chocolate mousse for dessert. As they waited for their food to arrive, Timothée and Y/N talked about life, interests, favourite foods, and surprisingly—they had a lot in common. 

“Y/N?” 

“Hm?” 

“I know we've only been talking for a month, but i need to tell you something.” Timothée grabbed her hand, intertwining it with his, “I'm….. well, uh- starting to see you a little differently.. You know? I just-” he sighs, “I feel something for you, Y/N. And I wanna know if you would ever feel the same way.”

Y/N felt the world around her stop, her eyes locking with his. Ever since he asked for her number she knew she was going to love him, but she didn't feel as happy as she thought she would be. Instead, she felt a pit slowly sinking to her stomach. 

It was wrong. 

Absolutely wrong.

It's been less than a year since Kaylee passed and he's already moving on, what if he doesn't actually like her but rather the heart she now wore. Y/N was speechless. She couldn't utter a word. She wanted to say she was slowly getting feelings for him too, but she knew she couldn’t. 

“Timothée....”

“Y/N, please. Think about it. Give me an answer when you're ready. Just....please give me a chance.”

@lovemelikecrazyiloveyoucrazy @helens3amstuff @gatoenlaciudad

[vivalas-vega]

match // new perspectives universe // jake 'hangman' seresin x reader

heyooo - i'm back from the dead - it's been a while since we've seen these two and for this one we're going back in time !! this is kind of a rewrite of something that’s already happened in the main chapters 🤭 i haven't written jake and jupiter in what feels like forever so this feels rusty to me lol but hopefully you enjoy!

match // new perspectives universe // jake 'hangman' seresin x reader

add yourself to my taglist

part of my new perspectives series !! it will make a lot more sense if you're caught up on these two:

prologue - one - two - three - four - five - six - seven - eight - nine

word count: 4.8k

warnings: language, mention of alcohol, college/med school/residency inaccuracies (I didn't go to college and it shows lol any and all knowledge on any of this comes from tiktok or greys anatomy)

Sitting at your vanity (if you could even call a plastic set of drawers with a handheld mirror duct taped to the back a vanity) you briefly thought to yourself that you should be excited… and you were, for the most part. Today was one of those days that marked the start of a new chapter. You’d been lucky (or unlucky, depending on how you looked at it) to have had a few of these already… first opening your acceptance letter into college, then med school, and now you were getting ready to find out where you had been matched for residency.

The excitement and nerves you were feeling were subdued because really the only thing you could focus on was the fact that the only person you wanted here wasn’t… and you didn’t know where he was. He could have been on a ship halfway across the world or at a base a handful of hours away but in the end it didn’t really matter much… he wasn’t here, and that was just part of the deal. You knew what this was long before it got to this point, and that point was only accentuated by the floppy haired boy walking into your dorm just as you stood from your spot in front of the window to change.

“Well, don’t you just look darling,” he teased and on another day you might have laughed… struck a pose and had a witty comeback, something about ratty college tees and soffe shorts being on all the runways these days, but it wasn’t another day. It was today and your future was hinging on something written in an envelope waiting for you across campus and this boy wasn’t the one you wanted teasing you today. 

You undressed and stood with your back to him, a silent request for him to help zip your dress and he obliged just as quietly. There was an expiration date on you and Matt, this much you knew… but the way his fingers trailed down your arm and the lingering question he’d been asking all month told you he wasn’t on the same page. He had a vision for his life, one that very much included you and perhaps you felt a little guilty for continuing to keep him in your orbit but the more logical part of you reminded you that the vision you had for your life had been set in stone long before he showed up. He saw residency right here in California, with you by his side. He saw you switching your area of focus to general medicine, something less demanding to create room for starting a family, something you’d do within the next few years. You hadn’t had the heart yet to tell him that sounded like your own personal hell.

Your vision was Boston, in a cutthroat surgical residency program before moving on to whatever hospital offered the best fellowship for your chosen specialty… that was the one area of your life you’d yet to nail down. Most of your peers pursuing the surgical route knew what they wanted to focus on, some vying for cardio or neuro, others trauma or general but not you. That was the one thing you were leaving up to fate, deciding to instead let yourself make that decision a few years into residency… and if that fellowship happened to come along where the boy you missed more than anything was stationed? Well, you wouldn’t be one to complain. The vision didn’t include Matt, it never did. 

And so, as you turned to face him with a tight smile you wanted more than anything to tell him this was over, that it would be best to head into residency as individuals but then you saw that look on his face and you couldn’t do it right now… not right before finding out whether or not you were getting everything you’d spent the last eight years working towards (seven for you, but you wouldn’t point that out to him anymore than you already had). You’d wait until after, even if that meant walking into the ceremony with someone you had already decided you wouldn’t be seeing after today. 

“Hey, did you guys get settled okay?” you asked your parents as you set your bag down on the table and exchanged quick hugs. You’d already seen them this morning when they’d arrived and they’d decided to give you a little space to get ready. 

“Your mother has taken photos of about a dozen things at the hotel, taking notes for our upcoming remodel which… I was just informed of this morning,” your dad said and you laughed. Matt said his hellos before going off to find his own parents and you rolled your eyes at the look your dad fixed you with. “He’s still around?”

“Oh hush,” you replied. Your purse started ringing and you fished around lip gloss and old flashcards to find your phone, immediately feeling more settled at the voice on the other end.

“Hey you,” Jake said and you actually let out a sigh of relief. “How are you feeling?”

“Oh me? You know, cool as a cucumber. Not freaking out at all,” you answered with a small laugh and he just chuckled.

“Of course not, not like there’s anything big going on today.”

“Definitely not, just a normal day around here,” you said.

“I just wanted to call and tell you to breathe, because you forget to do that sometimes-”

“I do not-”

“Yes you do, and to remind you that no matter where you end up you’re going to be just fine.” 

“Thank you,” you said softly. “I know you can’t say where you are but I hope you’re flying safe today,” you added.

“Always do, sweetheart. I’ll call you tonight, yeah?” 

“You better.” you said with a smile as you hung up and put your phone on silent just as the announcer gave the two minute warning. You could practically feel the rising tension in the room, a mix of nervous excitement and pure dread. So many fates contained within tiny envelopes and as you picked yours up you found the whole notion of this rather silly. You felt bad for anyone who got news they didn’t want today, having to find out in a room full of people celebrating and you prayed to a god you weren’t sure you even believed in you wouldn’t be one of them. 

“I think I’m going to, uh…” you started, looking at your parents and then back at the envelope in your hand. “I’m going to just take a minute and open it myself, if that’s okay?” you asked hesitantly and they nodded.

“Whatever you want, honey,” your mom replied and you turned around as the announcer told everyone to open them. You took a deep breath, because you did forget to breathe in times of stress, and with shaking hands practically ripped the envelope apart to pull out a folded piece of paper… a piece of paper that you hoped contained two specific words. 

Massachusetts General. 

Your shaking hands persisted as you read and reread what was right in front of you. Massachusetts General. You blinked and read again, did it really say that? Massachusetts General. 

“Oh my god-” you started as you turned around to show your parents with the paper facing outwards but they were gone. Really they’d only stepped a few feet to the side but they, and everyone else in the room, may as well have disappeared because all you could focus on was him, standing right there in front of you in his dress whites looking so proud as he read the words in your hands that quickly fell to the floor in shock. “Jake?” you asked so quietly, your mind still not catching up but it didn’t matter, in an instant you were launching yourself at him and he caught you with ease as you wrapped around him.

“Hey you,” he repeated his words from just a few minutes ago on the phone and you let out a sound that was mixed with a laugh and a sob as you clung to him. “You did it, I knew you would.”

“What the hell are you doing here?” you asked as you pulled away slightly to look down at him and he just beamed up at you.

“You didn’t really think I’d miss this, did you?” he replied and you just smiled, but it was quickly wiped away as you heard someone clear their throat behind you and you didn’t need to look to know who it was as you slid down Jake’s body to the floor and turned to see Matt, who was looking at the pair of you skeptically.

“Jake’s here,” he said, trying to muster some kind of enthusiasm but it fell flat, “yay.” You stifled a chuckle as you looked at him expectantly, “I matched here, what about you?” You knew what was coming as you took the paper your dad held out for you and Matt nodded softly when he read it. “I thought we talked about staying here for residency?” You didn’t miss the way Jake scoffed behind you, clearly disgusted that that was the first thing out of his mouth.

“You talked about it, Matt… I was always clear about my goals.” you said firmly. “But this is what we’ve both been working for. Congratulations, really,” you said, wrapping him in a tight but quick hug. “Go, celebrate with your family. I’ll see you at the party later.” you finished, nudging him off and  when you turned around Jake was giving you the most unimpressed look.

“Don’t even, I will not be seeing him at the party later, if you must know.” 

“Is that so?” he asked with a smirk and you rolled your eyes as he chuckled.

“Congratulations, sweetheart,” your mom said, pulling you in for a hug.

“We’re so proud of you,” your dad added, pressing a kiss to the top of your head and you went to respond, to thank them for everything they’ve done for you but they didn’t give you the chance. “Go celebrate and spend time together, and have fun at the party tonight.” 

“What? No, you guys flew all this way… I thought we could go out for dinner-”

“Hush, you two have some catching up to do,” your mom replied. “Besides, I think whatever celebrations you get up to tonight are best kept from us,” she added with a knowing smile and you tried to fight your own. 

“We’ll do breakfast, just the four of us like old times… but we won’t wake you too early,” your dad said and you watched as Jake gave them hugs before they slipped away. 

When they left he turned to look at you, all pride and adoration, and you flushed under his gaze as you gave him a look that said what? “You fucking did it, Jupiter.”

“I fucking did it,” you replied, your laughter bright and uncontrollable as he lifted you from the ground and spun you around.

“How’d he take it?” Jake asked as you entered your dorm, and you chuckled as you took him in, sprawled out across your bed, one leg hanging off the side because he simply didn’t fit. 

“About as well as could be expected,” you said and he laughed as he sat up.

“So… not well at all?” He laughed again when you nodded. “Tell me about this party we’re going to.”

“It’s pretty standard, I expect things will go as they always do with a campus party… just a little more celebratory with a slight drinking to numb the pain vibe from some.”

He nodded, “all your friends got what they were hoping for?” 

“For the most part… a few didn’t get exactly what they wanted but that’s kind of how it goes… matching is about a little bit of hard work and a shit ton of luck.”

“So, I’m guessing dress whites aren’t the vibe for tonight?” he asked, watching as you discarded your jewelry onto your desk and you chuckled as you turned and walked towards him, stopping in between his legs.

“Not at all,” you said with a shake of your head and you laughed again as he pouted and rested his hands on the backs of your thighs. “But they were a nice touch, you look very official and handsome,” you added on, hoping to turn his frown upside down.

And you did, he looked up at you with that same look he’d given you in the event hall. “I know you know this, but I really am so fucking proud of you, J,” he said and you softly smiled, feeling crimson creep onto your cheeks and you quickly diverted, trying to break some of the intimacy of the moment by pulling the hat from his head and plopping it on your own.

“Well, you should be, cowboy,” you said, stepping back and grabbing two beers from the mini fridge that doubled as a nightstand, handing one to him and he looked at you expectantly as you both cracked them open. “Because your best friend got into the fucking brig,” you said as you clinked the cans together and he let out a few cheers before taking a generous gulp. 

He stayed by your side as you got ready together, only engaging in a few quarrels due to the lack of space that only got smaller when your roommate Katie showed up, and you couldn’t help your amusement as the two of them got on each other's last nerves. Their relationship was very akin to that of siblings, they’d scream at each other through the phone on facetimes when the other was pulling too much of your attention and on the rare visits Jake managed she’d spend the whole trip pouting about how no one else existed when he was here.

“Are we not going to this party together, Katie?” you said, interrupting her latest spiel about Jake’s evilness, as she put it, and she held her hands up in surrender as you laughed. She put on a good show but you knew she liked having Jake around, it meant she got to see more of her favorite version of you… party Jupiter. And party Jupiter was in full effect as you strolled down the street lined with fraternity houses. The parties you attended these days were typically on the other side of campus and not quite as rowdy, you couldn’t even remember the last time you’d been down here but it had been negotiated that the frats held parties for the med students this year, to give you all one more truly college party before everyone went their separate ways into a new journey of adulthood. 

“You’ve been here before, right?” you asked Jake as you watched him mix you a drink and he nodded.

“Mmhm, your third year of undergrad,” he answered and you snorted.

“Oh god, yeah,” you briefly reminisced on that party, one with no cause, and the shocked look on Jake’s face most of the night. As it turned out, you had actually been understating just how much Stanford kids like to party that day on the phone all those years ago. You mingled with Jake in tow, socializing with friends you hadn’t seen since the beginning of the year to due rotations and interviews across the country, and really emphasizing the fact that you wouldn’t see each other for a number of years after tonight in your drunken states much to Jake’s amusement.

You weren’t much of an emotional drunk but that didn’t seem to be the case tonight… Probably something about the finality of it all, going from college to med school didn’t seem like a huge transition for you because you stayed in the same place, but this was different. After graduation next week you’d be packing up and moving across the country, to somewhere that couldn’t be more different than where you were, and you would officially be a doctor. 

Jake watched as you let loose, cackling with friends about professors or that one time you stole a dozen mice because you couldn’t bear the thought of them being used for research (and you maintained that you’d been in the right each time it was brought up). The last time he’d come to visit you’d been so entrenched in your coursework he actually became worried, watching you study for hours on end from your bed as he realized this is what your life was. You’d always done a good job at completing everything before he arrived so you could focus on the fun but that visit just wasn’t the case… There were exams to prep for and applications to be sent out and interviews to be scheduled, and all he could do was half-heartedly read a book he’d plucked from your shelf about internal medicine and force you to come up for air every now and again.

But this time was completely different, there was nothing to worry about because you were done. You’d gotten to the end of your journey here at Stanford and were in that blissful reprieve period where there truly was nothing to fret over, and it simultaneously warmed Jake’s heart and broke it to see. On one hand, you were finally getting a true break after years of achingly hard work… but on the other that break would only last a few days before you went into a tizzy packing to move cross country and start your residency. He knew you were happy, and that you would be happy in Boston but he also knew things were only about to get harder, and that a few days of true relief weren’t enough.

Granted, this wasn’t how you felt, despite the fact that as you downed your drink and chatted with Katie about her upcoming move to Nashville you had no idea this was going through his head… you felt nothing but joy knowing that you got to spend the next few days with Jake before diving into your future. Residency is what you feel you’d waited your whole life for. You did the hard stuff, you laid the foundation and stuffed your nose in a book for years and now you were finally going to be able to do. 

“I think I might actually miss these parties,” you said as you sat down by the edge of the pool with a sigh, unclasping your heels and actually moaning in relief as you dipped your feet into the cool water and Jake chuckled beside you. 

“I find that shocking considering that after that one your third year you said you never wanted to set foot on this block again.”

“I’ve grown, things have changed,” you protested which coaxed another laugh from him. “God, I can’t believe I’m leaving this place soon. It almost feels like just yesterday I showed up here with nothing but a suitcase and a dream. And you! Mr. Top Gun graduate,” you added, nudging him playfully.

“Don’t let Coyote hear you, he’ll bust my chops even more than he already has.”

“I miss Coyote,” you said, leaning your head on his shoulder. “Are you going home for Christmas this year?” you asked and this took him slightly by surprise, considering it was spring and he didn’t expect you to be looking forward to anything other than residency.

“I don’t think so… the way it lines up I’d have to fly in on Christmas Eve and leave the day after… I think the short trips make my mom sadder than me not going home at all.”

“They do,” you said. “For my parents too. I don’t know why but they do. What do you think about me coming to you this year? If you’re on base.”

“I think that sounds perfect,” he replied, turning to press a kiss on the top of your head. “I’m sorry I can’t stay for graduation,” he said and you lifted your head to shake it, waving your hand dismissively.

“Truthfully I don’t care about graduation, it’s more for my parents and yours. This was the important one,” you replied, giving him a warm smile. “I still can’t believe you pulled off surprising me. How long have you known you’d be able to make it?”

“Since you first told me the day,” he answered and your eyes widened as you hit his chest.

“You asshole! You made me think you couldn’t come and this was your plan all along? I was really sad, you know.”

He let out a loud laugh, “yeah, I know. But it was worth it! The look on your face was priceless.”

“You’re unbelievable,” you muttered.

“Had to get you back for my tap out ceremony somehow,” he pointed out and you sighed, because he did have a point.

“That’s fair. Though, I could argue that it was a surprise for me as well, mine was not premeditated.” 

“To-mato to-mato,” he replied. “So, when do you make the big move?” 

“Well, tomorrow you’ll be helping me scout apartments, tough part is I’ll have to pick a place sight unseen so we’re going to have to be very thorough in our search and then hopefully I’ll be out there within three weeks… My program starts in four.”

“Unless a last minute deployment pops up, I think I can meet you out there… help you get settled and all that.”

“Really?” you asked, eyes wide and full of hope as you beamed up at him and he chuckled, knowing you were definitely drunk right now. “Seeing you twice in one month? I don’t think we’ve gotten that lucky since we were teenagers.” 

“Well, I don’t know about that,” he said with a suggestive raise of his eyebrows and you were startled by your own laugh, not expecting the turn in conversation. 

“That’s right, forgot I was talking to Hangman, eternal stud.” you joked. Briefly you thought joking about it should sting, and deep down maybe it did a little, but this was the first time it’s come up and the sting wasn’t the first thing you noticed.

“You haven’t done so bad for yourself either,” he said and you just gave him a deadpan glare.

“Really? You think Matt was making me feel lucky every time?” you asked and he went through the same range of emotions. He thought it should hurt, and it did somewhere deep down, but it wasn’t the first thing he noticed.

“He wasn’t? Then what was the point?” he exclaimed and you hid your face in embarrassment. 

“Oh, I don’t know! Truthfully it spiraled and I didn’t have time for anything else so…” you trailed off before letting out a groan. “Oh god, I’m a terrible person.”

“Now, how did we end up there?” he asked, brows furrowing in confusion at your statement.

“I knew all along I’d dump him right about now, how awful to not do it so much sooner.”

He shrugged, “maybe… but knowing you he did get lucky every time so don’t feel too bad. Broken heart or not he reached the mountaintop, good for him.”

“That’s a better, if not slightly twisted, way of looking at things.” you mused, resting your head on his shoulder again.

“Tired?” he asked and you nodded. “Don’t quite have the stamina of an undergrad anymore?”

“Shut up,” you said. “It’s been an emotional day.” 

“Wanna go home?” he asked and you nodded, allowing yourself to be pulled up and you awkwardly shook your leg over the pool to rid yourself of excess water, to which he just shook his head in amusement. 

You spent the walk back towards your dorm lost in conversation, giggling about nothing in particular and squealing when he picked you up and tossed you over his shoulder, “Jake! I’m too drunk, don’t make me hurl,” you laughed but he didn’t seem to care, carrying you like it was nothing until suddenly you were on the move again, sliding down to the ground with Jake’s firm hands on your waist to guide you. Your brows furrowed in confusion when you noticed you weren’t at your dorm but instead in front of a shiny car.

“I love Katie,” he started, but was cut off by the questioning look you gave him, “really, I do, but you didn’t really think I was crashing in your dorm, did you?” he asked and he did have a point… the last time he visited she was on rotation so he crammed himself onto her tiny bed and complained all the next day… there simply wasn’t anywhere for him to be this time around. “I have a hotel room a few blocks away, do you want to come stay with me? Or I can walk you back to your room,” he added the last part a little hurriedly and you chuckled, you thought you just caught a glimpse of a younger Jake… nervous and not wanting to overstep. 

“Are you kidding me?” you asked, gesturing towards the door and he was quick to open it for you, “a night away from that thing they call a bed sounds like heaven.”

“And here I thought you just wanted to spend more time with me,” he said after walking around and getting in the driver’s side.

“Well, that’s certainly part of it… just not the main part,” you teased and he shook his head as he navigated towards his hotel and you looked over at him in amusement when you entered the parking lot. “Very fancy, Mr. Seresin,” you said as he opened the door for you and he extended his hand which you gladly took.

“Shut up and come on,” he replied and you did as you were told. Following him through the hotel and to the elevator, where they opened to reveal a cozy and beautifully decorated rooftop bar and you just looked over at him, eyes wide and questioning. “Tonight was a goodbye to your college life, and I thought what better way to end it than here, welcoming in this next chapter?”

“Jake…” you started, the lingering alcohol in your system still present enough to have you feeling a little more emotional than usual. You sat at a cozy loveseat positioned in front of a firepit and thanked the waiter when he brought over your cocktails, gin and tonic for you and something whiskey based for Jake. 

“To you, Jupiter. You’ve worked so hard the past seven years, and you never once wavered when things got hard. You are nothing short of incredible, and being here with you right now, marking this occasion… it means a lot to me, and I’ll never stop being proud of you.” he said, and you felt your eyes well with tears that mirrored his own.

“Stop, you can’t cause then I’ll really lose it,” you warned, laughing softly as you wiped your cheeks. “Thank you… not just for saying that but for being you, and for being here. I was a wreck all morning and then I turned around and saw you and everything felt… settled. You being here means more than you know.” you said and you clinked your glasses together before taking a sip. “I’m really proud of us.” you said added a few moments of silence. “Do you remember the day we decided to break up?”

“Vividly,” he chuckled and you couldn’t help but laugh too.

“God, we were so young, with such big dreams… and going into it all so devastated… I wish we could go back and tell them it wouldn’t be for nothing, that we made it.” 

“We did make it didn’t we?” he asked and you nodded, a smile creeping onto your face. He reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear and you didn’t know if it was the weighty realization that seven years ago you broke each other’s hearts to pursue the dreams you’d just achieved or the alcohol or just the fact that you simply wanted to but you leaned forward and let your lips brush against his. Soft and questioning but he pressed forward and captured you in a searing kiss. Years of pent up emotion and love spilling out, and you smiled when he chased your lips as you pulled away. 

You didn’t need to say anything, didn’t need to acknowledge any of it. You both knew it didn’t change anything, you both might have made it but only to the next stepping stone… it still wasn’t the time. You kissed him once more before scooting closer and resting your head on his shoulder, his arm wrapping around your waist as you just enjoyed the moment for what it was. A celebration of what was to come.

taglist: @mamaskillerqueen @clancycucumber230 @the-romanian-is-bae @alldaysdreamers @zzsloth @emma8895eb @novagreen04 @classyunknownlover @olliepig @purplevortexx @mayhemmanaged @ohgodnotagainn @smoothdogsgirl @swiftsgirlfriend @memoriesat30 @the-fandom-ness @midnightmagpiemama @shanimallina87 @tiredqueen73 @charles11700 @thegodessc @angelbabyange @failuretothrivestuff @wildxwidow @sp1rit-realm @grxcieluvr @alluringshawn @amatswimming @camilaricci @pinkpantheris @taytaylala12 @starcatcher48 @buck-nasty @misshoneypaper @waklman @4evinlovewithfictionalmen @devil-angel-winchester @callsignspirit @cruelmissdior @underaveragefangirl @camilaricci @nolita-fairytale @dempy @aviatorobsessed @pono-pura-vida @binnieslove @nik2blog @abaker74 @halstead-severide-fan @percysaidnever @memeorydotcom @eli2447 @dumb-fawkin-bitch @toobouquet @a-v-a123 @rae-you-gotta-be-kidding-me @86laura11 @justenoughmadnesss @yoonbutterfly (if your name is struck through it means I couldn't tag you - so sorry!)

[misteria247]

Ya know something Twilight is kinda lucky that Midna isn't with him anymore cuz she would 110% throw his ass under the bus with all the reckless, idiotic stunts he's pulled. Like she'd ruin his mature, responsible image. Like imagine-

Wind or Sky going to jump off something and Twilight goes to stop them, telling them to be careful and then Midna at that moment:

"You're one to talk. You literally jumped off of the Hylia bridge with zero hesitation."

And Sky and Wind just look at Twilight in this baffled awe. And Wind's instantly like:

"Oh so me and Sky can't jump off of things but YOU on the other hand-"

And he just gives Twilight absolute grief cuz he's literally 13/14 years old and it's not often that he gets to be relentless towards the country boy. Meanwhile Sky's trying to figure out how to invite Twilight to go jumping with him cuz now he has to know if Twilight can correctly jump off of things safely or if he just wings it.

Or perhaps Hyrule and Wild end up getting into trouble, and it involves fire and monsters and Twilight's reprimanding them for being so careless while Legend is watching all of this go down then Midna pops up and goes:

"Ya know, if I recall correctly I believe that you too at one point set something on fire. Hmmm perhaps a house, trying to get a shadow insect?"

And there's this dead silence before Twilight let's out this sputtering:

"YOU KNOW THAT WAS AN ACCIDENT I DIDN'T MEAN TO-"

While Legend completely loses his shit cackling cuz holy hell he did not expect the sweet country rancher to set a house on fire. Meanwhile Wild's instantly on his mentor's case demanding to know the details while Hyrule is hella curious in figuring out how Twilight even managed to accidentally set someone's house on fire.

Or maybe it's a late night and Time and Warriors are just chilling and talking about all the somewhat unsettling things they've encountered and Twilight's just really uneasy hearing how nonchalantly his mentor/ancestor and brother are talking about this stuff and Midna comes up next to him and chimes in:

"Aw don't look like that, you've faced some pretty nasty stuff too like the Shadow Beasts so this shouldn't be so surprising."

And the other two overhearing this just kinda stare at the duo before Warriors breaks the silence with:

"What in Din's hell is a Shadow Beast?"

Que Midna explaining what they are and how Twilight fought them by basically mauling them too death as a wolf while Warriors and Time just give him this look of 'We're talking about this at a later date.' While Twilight desperately wishes for the ground to swallow him whole.

Or maybe Four is talking about something risky he'd done during his adventure and Twilight's like saying that it's dangerous and that Four should be a bit more careful in the future and Midna's like:

"You literally shot yourself out of a canon willingly. I don't think you've got no room to really tell anyone to be careful."

And Four just stares at him in this silent way, eyebrow quirked in a 'Oh really now?' Kind of way while Twilight glares daggers at Midna who's way too amused.

Like I can just see Midna pulling up the most embarrassing and unhinged stuff that she and Twilight had experienced on their adventure just to fuck with him while Twilight slowly dies on the inside lmao.

[desultory-novice]

Sir Uther walks up to Noir Fontaine with purpose, having his usual happy-go-lucky smile and perky attitude. It was a surprise to see yet another human in this tournament ...well, atleast human-like. He instinctively reaches out for a handshake, eyes locked on Noir's face.

"Are you human?! MY~! I only ever saw the other one named Jade! Unlike her, you seem to be named after a color in french! Do tell, are there still any left of your species? Or are you all nearly extinct? Do you also have a history with Dark Matter in particular? I have so many questions~!! ☆"

His crystal eyes twinkle in delight, this truly was an opportunity to gain so much useful knowledge!

"Oh! And that entity, Zero as well! Does she exist in your world?"

"Hi! Wow! You're big! Bigger than I thought you round guys got!" 

Noir greets you with a boyish smile, though... ...He does not accept the handshake.

"You look like one of those Galactic Soldier Alliance people! I wrote fanfic about you! I can't let you read it because it's really cringe, but that's only cause when I was young I dreamed of being a hero, so...if you're ever recruiting, let me know maybe?! I'm not all that strong... but I'm passionate and have a strong sense of justice and somehow, I've got a lot of experience handling situations where all the evidence you killed anyone is gone because their bodies just disperse into matter once they're dead enough and the snow hides all the blood!"

[cw: mild body horror below]

"...What was I saying? Oh, yeah! I'm human! Whoa, there's another human here too? I should've figured that out, huh? I feel like I've been in a daze since I got here (or maybe even longer than that) and have been having a really hard time paying attention to stuff till lately when it all started coming back into my head REALLY FAST!"

"?! Do you speak French?! My mom taught my sister and me a little French and Japanese, cause of our ancestry, (what's my dad? I don't know! Maybe he's French-Japanese too?!) though we mostly speak Global at home. My name's supposed to be in Global but it's pretty cool that it means something in French too. 'Dark.' Sometimes I wonder if I was named after my hair? Though my sister's is the same color, pretty much, so that couldn't be it. Probably a coincidence?"

"Speaking of, my sister's human too and she's still around! We're separated right now, but my little brother's with her! (He's Dark Matter, since you brought it up! Yeah, he's adopted, but he's my little brother and if anyone says anything mean about him, I'll ****** them!) They're surrounded by friends too, so I don't worry!"

"It was really hard to get off the planet last time I was there, and it was getting pre~tty cold and people who got left outside tended to disappear till next year when you could find them again thawing out on the road but it's hard to imagine we've just gone extinct! I mean, the people from the New World had to have gone somewhere!"

"Hmm? Z...e...?"

"...r...." "...o...!?"

"M-muh...M-Mas..." "...pl...ea... ey...e...c-can....t... "...bre...athe...."

-

Noir clutches his throat. The dark, burn-like cracks on his skin that had been easy to ignore till now seem to crawl up, to his chin and beyond. A thick metal collar around his neck, barely visible between his gloved hands, hums with a dark violet glow before he passes out.

Elsewhere, an otherwise unremarkable looking sword in the stolen stash of a small Dark Matter begins to vibrate, seeking its host.

@kirbyoctournament

PS: Wisp belongs to @moonsharkss and while he's still in the lead this round, it's close, so if you want to give him a vote...!

(Help I forgot his hands!)

-

Noir's Field Trip Masterpost

-

AN: Welp, add another one to Sir Uther's body count/list of crimes...

So, I still have some "Cheerful" (...although more like his brains have been scrambled) Noir asks to answer/send out that I'll get to when I have time (writing him is a bit exhausting tbh... ) but I have gone ahead and drawn this to "progress" back to the main tourney story! (You didn't think he could stay this way forever, did you?)

TLDR, We're back to regular Noir (...or whatever other AU hijinks happen to come his way that affect him in some manner?! Magic anons...???) but if you wished to interact with or send another question to Noir explicitly during his short lived cheerful phase, lemme know! Though whether I get to it will depend on how I'm feeling ^^

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(...Fwiw, I'm pretty sure if he stayed this way for too long, the emotional cascade would eventually give him a full on mental breakdown as his refreshed, innocent psyche finally catches up with processing all the traumas that made up his life.)