#( . these could be about Anything so prepare yourselves for that. wait — okay anything but rated stuff.

[tartigglez]

"i'm here now, aren't i?

diluc x gn!reader

genre: fluff/hurt-comfort??

word count: 1.6k (i got carried away)

tags: diluc is our mr darknight hero, soft hours, diluc gets wounded :( but its fine u can take care of him, many kiss, such cuddle, shy diluc at the end bc i have brainrot gonna be honest

tw/cw: descripton of blades (swords), brief description of cuts/wounds + treating them, scars, reader is alone at night (idk if this is worth mentioning but better safe than sorry), diluc carries reader in some positions that would be considered sorta feminine????, insomnia (?), lmk if i missed any

a/n: FINALLY DILUC! gotta say, i love the graphics for this sm, i feel like i did a rlly good job (giving myself credit bc they're pretty). i love soft boi diluc and intend to write for him more ngl, anyways, enjoy!

a wet, stormy night at dawn winery proved to be the reason for your lack of sleep. the sounds of the thunder and lightning clattering outside, accompanied by the drumming of the rain on the window were so loud that they tried to take priority in your mind. however, the only thing you could bring yourself to think about was your lover, all alone, in the cold. 

the empty space in the bed next to you, the lack of his presence, the ominously daunting weather outside. these things all worried you. 

what if he got hurt? 

what if something was wrong? 

what if…?

don't think about it. don’t. 

you knew that you wouldn’t be getting sleep anytime soon, so you got out of bed, putting on the bathrobe which was hanging on the wardrobe door, and brought yourself to the sitting room, perhaps to distract yourself with a book? but in reality you were just going down there to wait for him. 

so you waited

first 10 minutes

then 30 minutes

then an hour

then decided that enough was enough

you could defend yourself in combat, you could wield a weapon, and you would do anything to know that diluc was okay. 

and so you found yourself back in your bedroom, in the wardrobe, looking for the longsword he told you he had left in there for emergencies. 

the blade was sharp, and glinted silver in the light. the handle was encrusted with what you could only assume were rubies, and so you concluded that this sword must have costed diluc a significant amount of money. 

you lifted the sword from its case, sheathed it, and then you realised the weight of the weapon, which wasn’t exactly the lightest, to say the least. 

you left the winery, still in pyjamas, your bathrobe having been replaced with a jacket, quietly closing the front door to your home as to not awaken any of the staff who also lived there. 

if you were going to be quite honest with yourself you weren't sure where exactly you were going, but you just began walking down the path…

the night was eerie. the cold, windy air hit your cheeks as you moved slowly away from the winery. it wasn't shortly after you began your walk that you heard a sound. an immediate response of adrenaline came to you, and so you drew your sword, ready to face whatever was coming near you. 

after about ten seconds of standing still and hearing the sound get closer to you, you saw a red light glowing about ten metres away. with your sword still drawn you moved closer to the light, preparing for combat, and the light moved closer to you as well.

within a split second, you realised that the light was that of a pyro vision, the light of his pyro vision. you dropped your weapon on the ground, and he did the same as you ran to him. as if by natural instinct, you jumped into his arms as he wrapped once of them around your waist, and used the other to hold you up. neither of you said anything for a bit, simply holding each other and allowing yourselves, and your heart rates, seemingly, to calm down. after all, you must have startled the man, appearing out of nowhere like that. 

he placed you gently down, back onto your feet as he held your waist with one hand, and placed the other on your cheek. 

the man had a face of pure concern as he looked into your eyes, why would you possibly be out here at this time of night?

his hair was tousled, and his lip had been cut, presumably in some sort of rough battle. not only that, but his shirt had been slightly ripped as well, presumably by some sort of sword, or in this case, a mitachurl axe.  

“have you been injured? are you well? why are you out here?”

these were all things you ought to be saying to him, so why was he so concerned about you? 

“i was worried about you, you were supposed to be home and i-”

“do not worry, all is well, i am here, love”

“you’re hurt”

“surface level injuries dear, please, settle. I’m here now, arent i?” 

“yeah, yeah”

he pulls you into his arms, placing a kiss upon your head. 

“let’s go home, you’re cold.”

and so, without dwelling upon it, you walk hand in hand back in the direction of the winery, coming across the sword you had previously dropped on the ground. you sheathed it once again, and picked it up. diluc let out a light chuckle. 

“you were really that worried about me?”

“what do you mean, of course i was!”

“my dear, a weapon of this size is far too heavy for you to carry, allow me”

“you can’t, you’ve already got your own sword, its too much and you’re injured an-”

he cut you off…

with his lips…

“i'm fine. trust me. i'm more than capable of carrying this sword, its only half the weight of mine”

“hmph, fine. but don't come crying to me later when your back hurts, mister high-and-mighty!”

“very well, sweetheart”

you grabbed his large, calloused hand to lead him back to the winery, and although you wouldn’t see it in the moonlight, a rosy blush dusted itself over his cheeks. archons, he loves you. 

as the pair of you entered the winery once again, diluc placed both his weapon and yours down beside the front door, smiling to himself at the fact that you cared about him this much. it also seems to him that you didn’t notice, the longsword you had gotten out of the closet matched his greatsword, it was simply a smaller version. 

you both enter the sitting room, which is still dimly lit. diluc gestures towards the fire, which immediately relights, due to the skilled use of his pyro vision. 

“you are cold, dearest. i shall move the sofa closer to the fire, and we will sit for a while, yes?”

“luc’, at least let me tend to your wounds first, you're hurt”

the look of concern on your face caused a veil of guilt to loom over him. but he brushed it off, as to not make you feel bad about caring for him so much. 

“fine, but be gentle”

“i will”

and so, you both sat on the soft plush of the sofa, diluc with his shirt off, and you gently caring for the shallow wound slightly above his left pectoral, dabbing it with a damp towel. his skin was covered in battle scars, but it was beautiful, in some way. these were the lengths your lover would go to for the sake of other people, an admirable trait to say the least. 

diluc admired your concentration whilst caring for his wounds, and was slightly surprised when you manoeuvred your body to straddle his lap, only so you could get a better angle to analyse his injuries, of course (definitely not to look at his muscular arms or anything like that). he placed one of his large hands on your thigh, and the other on your waist, as you gently cared for any other wounds on his body. your skin made contact with his as you put your hand on the warm skin of his shoulder to balance yourself. 

“you’re freezing, dear, your hand is so cold”

“hm, i guess i just didn’t warm much since being outside”

“that won’t do”

a gentle heat began to spread through you, from your heart around the rest of you, warming every inch of your body. he had used his vision on you.

“tsk, pyro users”

“i know, right?”

the man was surprisingly chipper, considering the injuries he had sustained. you both laughed, for some unknown reason, at a joke which wasn’t really all that funny, but that’s love for you. and as the light of the fire began to dim, and the pair of you began to tire, he placed a gentle kiss upon your lips.

“shall we go to bed, dear?”

“yes, please! archons- i’m tired”

“i'm sorry, i feel that this is my fault”

“oh it is entirely your fault, mister darknight hero”

“i told you not to call me that”

“and i told you not to stay out too late, no?”

he let out a chuckle, lifting you from your position on the sofa, and carrying you to your shared bedroom, whilst holding you close to his chest. he removed you from his grasp momentarily, placing you on the bed and telling you to get under the covers, just so he could remove the necessary garments to be comfortable for bed.

yawning, he pulled back the duvet and placed his weary body next to yours, quickly moving to bury his head in your chest and wrap his arms and legs around you. your hands moved to his hair out of natural response, gently massaging his scalp as you fiddled with his vermillion locks. 

"i love you, y/n”

“i love you more, luc’” 

you placed a sly kiss to the crown of his head, and he only hid his face from you further out of shyness, whining into the fabric of your pyjamas.

“you’re so cute”

“don't call me that”

“night, cutie”

and so, you both drifted off into slumber, held in each others arms, held in love. 

[all-the-things-2020]

Deeds Not Less Valiant - Chapter Sixteen

Summary: Our story ends and Din, Tala, Grogu and Neeli return to Mandalore.

Word Count: 2200+

Rating: R (brief sexual encounter at the end)

Notes: It took them a while, but Din and Tala have finally arrived at their happy ending.

Grogu was unsurprised when he saw Din without his helmet the next morning. Tala had been prepared for questions, but he merely shrugged.

:Bo said you would probably be my Mom one of these days. And then Dad could take his helmet off more.:

He picked up his spoon but paused before diving into his porridge. :She said if I let you have alone time for grown up stuff I might get a sibling.: 

“What did he say?” Din asked. “You look funny.”

Tala took a moment to compose herself before she answered. “He said Bo-Katan told him I would probably be his Mom soon, so he’s not surprised to see you with your helmet off.”

”And?” Din lifted an eyebrow. “I don’t think that would cause you to make that face.”

”Let’s just say the esteemed Mand’alor is getting a bit ahead of herself.”

”Vod.” Grogu said around a mouthful of porridge.

Now it was Din’s turn to look askance. “What? Did he say vod?”

”I think so. What does that mean?”

”Sibling. Brother. Sister.” Din ran a hand over his face. “I mean, we didn’t exactly go that far last night, did we?”

Tala bit back a smile. “Not quite. But Bo-Katan did tell Grogu that if he let us have alone time he might get a sibling.”  

Din sighed. “Okay, good. I … it’s not that I don’t want … but it’s a little too soon.”

”I agree,” Tala said. “But maybe we shouldn’t be discussing this at the breakfast table.”

:Grown up stuff.: Grogu shook his head. “Ick.”

”Agreed,” Tala said. “But is there anything we should do now? Do we need to register with the High Magistrate or inform the Mand’alor or anything?”

”We will tell Greef and then go to Mandalore to record the marriage,” Din said. “We need to add your name to the clan roster. And maybe have a little talk with Bo-Katan about what is appropriate to discuss with younglings.”

“Yah,” said Grogu. “Po-pret.”

******************************************************l

Greef was overjoyed at the news. “Congratulations, Mando! This is just what the town needs right now. Something to celebrate!”

”Can we wait until we return from Mandalore?” Din asked. If he knew Greef as well as he thought he did, the High Magistrate was already planning a party, a medal of some sort that he could present, and a deal to sell the story to a holovid company as a way to make Nevarro famous throughout the quadrant. 

“Of course, of course,” Greef said. “I’ll have everything taken care of by the time you get back. You’re a hero, Mando, and now you get your happy ending. You and Tala and Grogu just need to show up and enjoy yourselves.”

Bo-Katan was less exuberant but still quite pleased. “I knew it would happen soon, just not this soon,” she said over the holo-comm. “Not sure who was closest in the betting pool, but …”

”Wait, you’ve been betting on us?”

She smirked. “Just me and the Armorer and Axe and a few others. Nothing major, just a couple of ingots of beskar.”

”You — you wagered beskar on my personal life?”

”We like you, Djarin,” she said, shaking her head. “You spent too much time with that cult. Not everything has to be serious all the time. We can have fun with each other.”

Din shook his head. “But the Armorer … was she really in on this?”

”She’s quite pleasant once she’s had a few pints of ne’tra gal in her.”

Din had no response to that and ended the comm.

******************************************************

The flight to Mandalore was uneventful. Din had left R5 and the starfighter on Nevarro, and the hold was full of trade goods that the High Magistrate had rounded up from various merchants in town. Restoring the damaged buildings would be expensive.

”I don’t know how well these will sell on Mandalore,” Tala said, holding up one of the delicate lace undergarments that had been consigned by one of the clothiers.

”You don’t know what everyone wears underneath their beskar,” Din said with a wink. 

It was still unnerving to see his face. On board the Krayt, there was no need for him to wear his helmet and it had spent the journey on a shelf above Din’s bunk. None of the bunks was big enough for more than one person, and there was no privacy, anyway, so they had stuck to their previously chosen bunks. Neeli had graciously divided her time evenly amongst all three of them, ending the night by sleeping on Din’s pillow with her tail draped across his face.

As they approached Mandalore, Din readied his helmet and Tala buckled Neeli into her harness. “It’s just in case you get spooked,” Tala told the tooka. “I don’t want to have to try to find you in a strange place. When we get to our room, you can take it off.”

”Does she understand you?” Din asked, his voice now muffled and distorted by the vo-coder.

”More or less,” Tala said. “I think Grogu can communicate more directly with her but I can’t reach her mind. She does know several words and commands. It’s just that she only responds if she feels like it.”

Din reached over and rubbed Neeli’s head. “She likes this,” he said as she began to purr.

”She likes you,” Tala replied. “You’re her daddy now.” She’d threatened to buy him a shirt she’d seen in the market that said “Galaxy’s #1 Tooka Dad” but he’d shot that idea down quickly.

”She is not our child,” he said. “She is our pet.”

”Tell that to Grogu.”

Grogu has started calling Neeli his sister, christening her “Vod-Nee,” a combination of the Mandalorian word for sibling and her name.

“Grogu understands,” Din said. Tala raised an eyebrow at him. “Most of the time,” he said.

They landed and stepped off the ramp to be met by Bo-Katan Kryze and the Armorer, along with a few other curious folks. “There are several disappointed women on Mandalore,” Bo-Katan said as she greeted them. “I didn’t realize you were considered such a good catch, Djarin.”

”To be the foremother of a new clan is a high honor,” the Armorer said. “They just wanted bragging rights. I am glad you chose wisely, Din Djarin.” She turned to Tala. “Welcome home, Tala Pavan of House Djarin. And welcome to you, Neeli. The tooka is a fearsome beast, as courageous as any Mandalorian, despite its small size.” She pulled a small badge from her pouch, a mudhorn head worked in beskar. She attached it to Neeli’s harness. “Now everyone will see that you belong to Clan Mudhorn, little one.”

Tala was overcome. She’d never expected Neeli to be acknowledged as part of the clan by anyone outside their little family. “Thank you,” she said. “She will wear it proudly.”

”I have something a bit more impressive for you,” the Armorer said, “but it must wait for the ceremony this evening.” She bowed her head graciously. “For now I will let Lady Bo-Katan show you to your rooms so you can get settled.”

”You get the bridal suite,” Bo-Katan said with a little smirk. “It’s a little bit bigger than the other quarters, and we’ve been offering it to newly wed couples for their first week of married life. A lot of people are still in barracks so they appreciate the privacy. And speaking of privacy, I’d be more than willing to watch the kid for a couple of nights if you want to get started on that sibling I promised him.”

Din stiffened and Tala felt the blood rush to her face. “Um, that would be nice,” she managed to say. Bo-Katan was enjoying this, if the twinkle in her eyes was any indication. 

“Then it’s all set. Grogu and I will have a sleepover!” Bo-Katan picked up Grogu, who giggled.

:Silly Bo! We will eat pog soup while Mom and Dad do grown up stuff. Soup is better than kissing:

********************************************************

The marriage recording ceremony took place on the steps that led down to the Living Waters of Mandalore. Din knew that a Mythosaur lurked beneath the surface, but he still found it hard to fully believe it was real. Tala had reassured him that Grogu had connected with the beast, and Bo-Katan swore that she’d seen it with her own eyes, so it must be true, but it was still hard to wrap his mind around the fact that the symbol of the Mandalorian people lived and breathed just a few meters away.

The ceremony itself was brief. The Armorer inscribed their names onto a beskar plate that recorded all the marriages that had taken place since the retaking of Mandalore. Then she presented Tala with a mudhorn pendant wrought in beskar and accented with silver and gold, hanging from a platinum chain. “You have not sworn the Creed, but you are a member of a Mandalorian clan, therefore you have earned the right to wear beskar. May this small token always remind you of your duty to your family and your clan.”

Din’s heart swelled with joy as Tala bent forward for the Armorer to place the necklace around her throat. It was not ostentatious but it was a very visible reminder that Tala was a member of the Mudhorn Clan. 

“And you, Din Djarin, as you take the first steps to founding a clan and house that will live in the memories of all Mandalorians, have earned this.” The Armorer held out a brand new amban rifle. Din’s eyes teared up and his throat swelled as he reached for the weapon. He’d lost his old one when the Razor Crest had been destroyed. It had served him well, and could never truly be replaced, but his new rifle was a beautiful thing.

”I am honored,” Din said, bowing deeply. “I will use it to protect my clan and Mandalore.”

”This is the Way,” the Armorer intoned.

”This is the Way,” everyone in attendance echoed.

**************************************************

They were alone. Grogu had happily gone with Bo-Katan, prattling on about “Paw soo” and now Din was alone in their borrowed quarters with Tala. With his riddur. 

He had faced down many enemies in his life, often against overwhelming odds with little chance of survival, but never had he felt so nervous, so afraid. This was uncharted territory and he had no idea how to proceed. There was no training for this.

”Relax,” Tala said, laying a hand on his arm. “We have the whole night ahead of us. And before you say anything, I will not be disappointed by anything you do tonight. The first time is always awkward, whether both parties are experienced or not.”

Din nodded and smiled but inside he was panicking. Should he kiss her now or should he wait until they had disrobed? The thought of seeing Tala completely naked made his heart race. He’d felt her body through her clothing before, but the idea of flesh against flesh, with nothing between them, overwhelmed him.

She stepped closer and pulled his head down for a kiss. He relaxed slightly. He knew how to do this. They’d had much practice in the few days since they’d spoken the Riddurok. 

Soon, she was helping him remove his shirt, and then he helped remove hers. Bit by bit, their clothing ended up on the floor until they were side by side on the bed, as bare as the day they had arrived in the world. 

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered as he took in the sight of her body. 

“So are you,” she replied, gently tracing her fingertips over the many scars that were scattered over his skin. “And you’re all mine.”

She kissed him again and this time it was different. More urgent. Din felt his body respond to her and before he knew it, she was opening her legs and guiding him toward her. Suddenly, he was inside of her and instinct took over. He knew what to do and he did it with an enthusiasm he’d never felt except on the training or battle field.  Their bodies fit together like two pieces of a puzzle, and Din knew the meaning of home.

He finished quickly, which Tala assured him was perfectly normal for his first time. Then she showed him how to help her achieve the same bliss he’d just experienced. He learned that fingers that knew how to pull a trigger could also be used for more delicate work.

When it was over, and they lay tangled together, bodies covered in a thin sheen of sweat, Tala kissed him gently. “And that, my love, is how it’s done,” she said. ”You did very well. I think you’re a natural.”

”It’s different from fighting,” Din said. “But even more enjoyable.”

Tala laughed. “What an incredibly Mandalorian thing to say!”

”You’d better get used to it,” he told her. “You’re an honorary Mandalorian now. And you know how much we Mandalorians love to fight. Just imagine how much I’m going to enjoy this new activity.”

She smiled and brushed a strand of hair off his forehead. “I’m looking forward to it.”

Then she kissed him again. “Ready for round two?”

“We get to do it again?”

”All night if you’re up to it.”

”This is the Way.”

[n7soldiered]

                                      FIRST  STARTER  CALL !  

[hyunnows]

Request: Suga x reader feat. RM, Jin, J-Hope, Jimin, V and Jungkook. Established relationship. Suga believes that his s/o is blowing him off to hang out with the other members. In actuality, they’re working together preparing a surprise party for his birthday

SURPRISE PARTY | MYG

PAIRING: Yoongi x reader

RATING: pg

WORD COUNT: 1.1k+

CONTENT/WARNINGS: est. relationship, slight angst with a fluffy ending, sneaking around, Yoongi is nosy but very cute and sulky, ft cameos of bts

SUMMARY: request above // the time Yoongi spoiled his own surprise party

A/N: here we go! ik its a few days late but, better late than never right? plus i've been a bit swamped (kind of calmed down rn) so it took me longer than I wouldve like to write this but oh well. anyway i hope you enjoy and thank you for all your support <3 have a great day/night!

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“Hey [Y/N]—” Yoongi starts, only for you to run past him hurriedly.

Nervously, you wave, frantically clicking the elevator. “Hey babe! I can’t really talk right now, gotta go. I’ll see you later when I get home though!” You call as you decide to take the stairs instead, running down them with incredible speed.

He sighs, hands he had lifted in hopes you’d hug him—not that he’d admit he wanted a hug—dropping you his side in disappointment. “Later…”

He trudges into your apartment, slouched over more than usual, with a frown stretched on his face. You avoided him, again. Since last week, you’ve been dodging calls, texts and run-ins as if he were the plague. And truthfully, it was beginning to hurt his ego.

Even worse, whenever you’re out of work, he finds you hanging out with your mutual friends. You’d be awkwardly watching a sitcom with them, or eating takeout stiffly, waiting for him to leave. He could read the room, so he knew your rigid frames were anticipating when he’d step out and you could all enjoy yourselves again.

He’s not one for much socializing or group hang-outs, but he’s barely seen you in a week, and even his friends weren’t contacting him.

Truthfully, he thinks you’re all tired of him. His sometimes disinterested demeanor, or snide remarks. Maybe you’ve all gotten tired of him sleeping more than hanging out. Whatever it is, it’s ruining his social and romantic life.

So he calls you again, only for you to quickly answer, check if he is okay (physically and mentally) before giving him a rushed response about how you have something to do. Then you hang up, leaving your usually introverted boyfriend craving your affection.

So… he checks Snapchat for your location, hoping to catch you running your errands so he could do them with you. What he doesn’t expect to see on the map is that his friends are there too.

Ringing up Hoseok, he taps his foot impatiently, waiting for the brunet to answer his phone for once in his life. When he—unsurprisingly—doesn’t answer, Yoongi decides he’ll just go check things out for himself.

He isn’t suspecting anything scandalous or unfaithful of you, he just thinks it’s odd that he’s being cut out of hangouts. After all, he was their friend first.

His confusion grows when he arrives at a party store, Jungkook, Hoseok, Taehyung and yourself picking out different decorations in what seems to be a very meticulous and serious manner. Shooting you a text that reads ‘what’re you doing?’, he waits.

You hear a ring of your phone, making you jump slightly before you check it. “Who is it?” Hobi, ever so nosy, peeks over your shoulder.

“Yoongi. Wants to know what we’re doing.”

Taehyung hums, before a lightbulb seems to go off in his head. “Tell you’re at the department store.”

“Okay,” you sigh, typing in the boy’s suggestion. You’re honestly starting to get stressed with trying to keep your boyfriend off your tail. “Done. What else do we need?”

Jungkook checks the list. “Some streamers…”

Yoongi hurriedly checks his phone when it goes off, curious to know what you’ll say. He thinks you’ll tell him the truth—after all, buying party supplies could be running errands. But when your text comes through with a different answer than what he’d thought, Yoongi can’t believe that you’re actually lying to him to hang out with his friends.

With a scoff, he pulls out of the parkway and back home.

You’ve been out all day shopping with the boys, sometimes the seven of you trading partners or groups. Finally, you finished getting everything in your list. All that remains is Jin and Namjoon finishing up reservations and a few other calls.

Striding through the door in exhaustion, you don’t forget to be as animated and spritely as usual. “Honey, I’m home!” You sing, waltzing through your home and searching for you boyfriend. “Yoongs…?”

You finally find him, deadpanned whilst reading his least favorite book in your bedroom, sitting on the corner of the bed. “Oh, you’re home.” His tone flat and distant, eyes barely lifting from the word-filled pages to glance at you.

You’re almost startled by his reaction’s dullness, but brush it off. “Yep! How was your day?”

Without moving a muscle, he mutters out a low, ‘fine’, before continuing to read mindlessly.

Stunned by his indifference, you decide to leave him be for now. In fact, the topic only arises once you’re both in bed. More surprisingly, Yoongi is the one to bring it up.

His broad, slumped expanse of his back facing you, while you face the opposite wall, a bit fed up with his attitude. His deep, groggy voice penetrates your ears, a twinge of betrayal laced within the dull tone. “Why are you and the boys ignoring me?”

You look at him over your shoulder at that, confusion etched onto your features. “What?”

“We’re all on Snapchat, I saw your little people icon things together. I tried to call to get an answer, but you guys kept dodging my calls. So I drove to where you were, thinking maybe you guys would let me in on what’s going on, but instead you lied to me about being at a department store.” He finishes in what almost sounds like a breath, his blank expression shadowed by the sadness in his eyes. “Why are you all keeping me out of the loop?”

Your eyes are blown wide with surprise, panic setting in. Do you tell Yoongi about what the boys and yourself had worked so hard to conceal, or do you let him worry? Sighing, you know which is the better choice. You just hope the other six won’t mind you spilling the beans about your recent secret meetings.

Turning to him, you scoot closer to drape your arm over his waist, hugging him comfortingly. “The truth is… We have been avoiding you—but not because of anything mean or bad. We’ve been,” Face dropping when you realize all your hard work to cover your tracks has gone to waste, you finish, “planning a surprise party for you. We’ve been sneaking around because, y’know, surprises are supposed to be, well, surprising.”

Guilt seeps into his formerly heartbroken chest, the realization that all this time and effort is being put into something for him hitting him hard. “Oh—I’m so sorry [Y/N]... I didn’t know, otherwise I wouldn’t have pushed…”

“Of course you didn’t know, that was the whole point.” You give him a lighthearted chuckle. “I’m sorry we worried you, but you better act surprised next week at the party, okay? And don’t tell the boys I told you, or they’ll have my head!”

He nods, turning to embrace you tightly, mumbling a few more apologies before slipping into a sleep-filled conversation that lasts until you both fall asleep.

Sure enough, you’re more than impressed with your boyfriend’s acting skills than you imagined when none of the six boys realize he knows, or when even you’re fooled by his faux surprise the following week.

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[insomniasymphony]

Obsessive Hisoka Morow x Female Reader [He cannot hate you]

Constellation: Obsessive Hisoka Morow x Female Reader Words I got: → Protective → Duality → Affection Rating: Teen up and Audience

                            ►► He is the devil with a sweet tooth,                               And you are the candy on his tongue.                       Get on your knees and ask him to choose                                     Nothing sweeter than you.                              For sweetness doesn't last long. ◄◄

Hectically, you jerk your head from left to right, look around for other cars and take a breath when there are no others blocking the road. In the cold evening air, your legs carry you in hurried steps across the asphalt, to the other side of the pavement that should lead you through the houses of Yorknew. Further and further, until the hotel room is forever gone.

The breath on your lips rises in white clouds, bringing something wistful with it that you don't want to pay attention to. Still, you can't rid yourself of the thought in the back of your mind.

It's not too late to give up on your plan.

You could drag yourself back to the room you've been sharing with Hisoka for four days, put on something pretty and wait for the magician to return from his meeting. He'd tell you about his new plan, kiss you, and fuck your senses into no-man's land for half the night because you're his favourite toy.

That's the problem: you're just a doll that can be replaced.

He's never said that he loves you, even though you've been spending every spare minute together for six months. Hisoka took you on his journey and he hasn't let you out of his sight since.

You shower together, eat together, he kills anyone you exchange too many kind words with. It's as if he wants to shut you off from the world so that you belong to him alone.

But this obsessive nature of his is nothing but terror for you. Sometimes you long for freedom, which you know Hisoka will never give you. He would rather strangle to death with his own hands than see you go. His subliminal threats make that clear time and time again.

And tonight you are ready to die for your freedom.

A little more hastily, you hurry ahead, turn into a narrow alley and hear the echo of your footsteps rising up the stone walls. Each reverberation makes your skin seem colder under your soft woolen coat. The goosebumps don't subside, the shiver persists, and you can't help but believe that behind every shadow is a part of Hisoka. His intense gaze has made you paranoid.

Briefly, you shake your head. This time his eyes won't be able to pierce you. When Hisoka returns, the hotel room will be empty and you will be long gone – so far away from him, with a new name and a new life, that he won't find you. For three weeks you have been looking for someone who would save you and Hisoka from this relationship and you have indeed found someone who wants to fulfil all your wishes for a lot of money in exchange.

Your gaze wanders once briefly over your shoulder. Through the echo of your own flight, you can no longer perceive anything but your own movements. Hisoka could be walking right behind you and you wouldn't notice. The racing of your heart makes the blood rush in your ears and everything else inside you is so erratically tense that you don't know if your nerves can hold it all together.

Only when the alley ends and sends you between other streets to find safety, a tiny part of the fear falls away, still simmering underneath.

Across the street, at least fourteen cars have parked. This area of the city seems like a residential neighbourhood where men return to their loving wives. The husband old-fashioned in a suit while she wears an apron because dinner is boiling on the cooker. Docile women in the kitchen who have no time to look for other men. Probably that's exactly what Hisoka is longing for too. A woman who only has eyes for him. All day long. Without exception. Locked up like a bird in a cage.

Even though you never intended to replace him. Hisoka is the man who won your heart. A guy who goes through life strong and ruthless, but always takes great care to make sure you're okay.

Your steps slow down as you stop at the edge of the pavement. One of the vehicles is started, flashing its headlights three times. The sign that this is your getaway car. The man who will take you away. Away from Hisoka, whose arms have wrapped protectively around you more than once in the last six months. His warmth on your skin has always been comforting and even though you know he hates it when you talk to other men and he has left marks on your body as a safety for himself as a result, his company has always been loving. He has never hurt you unless you found sexual pleasure in it. He never raised his voice at you. Never did he try to lock you up. His only crimes are the threats that still jump through your senses and also the fact that he likes to corner and intimidate you.

On top of that, he messes with people for your sake who are more dangerous than one might think at first. Yes, you love him. But if you don't leave, he will either throw you away or he will be killed because of you. You are poison to each other, you can't explain it any other way.

Yet, you don't want to go. The fear in your heart has made room for sorrow and the desire to run back into his strong, protective arms is strong.

Swallowing dryly, you give yourself a push. You have no choice but to make the best decision for both of you. Your feet start moving again and you drag yourself along, reaching the car you're getting into. You find room in the back seat, the fabric of which clings to you strangely and uncomfortably as you take a shaky breath and look in the rearview mirror for a half-glimpse of your helper's round face.

“Are you ready, good lady?” His smoky voice scrapes through the atmosphere, merely making you nod before he finally starts the engine and drives off. Your heart sinks four floors deeper, smothered in grief and fear, both of which settle on too many things in your chest. Maybe you're making a mistake, but this relationship has no future.

You feel the car smoothly take the turns, hear the engine accelerate, sense every bump in your bones. You claw your sweaty hands into the upholstery as you reprimand yourself to rest with conscious inhales and exhales. It's over, you've escaped, given you both the freedom you deserve.

Yorknew's houses diminish for a moment, bringing trees and the parkland to the fore where you would have loved to have a romantic walk. But Hisoka doesn't think much of boring strolls. He likes sex. Togetherness where you are close to each other – all to yourselves, so that you can snuggle up to him and you just sit there. Amusement parks. Bungee gum. You.

The thought draws a sigh from you before the car makes a strange rattling sound, forcing the driver to stop. You halt at the side of the road, so you can't help but hold your breath.

“What was that?” you press out.

“If I saw right, I just accidentally drove over a marten,” the stranger returns to you, making you exhale because it's not a horror movie you're in after all. Then he gets out.

The open door, which he doesn't close, brightens up the inside of the vehicle, makes the outside world a little more unfriendly than it really is and forces you to get out too, because you can't find a quiet minute alone on this upholstery.

Slowly you push your way back into the cold of the darkness, glancing at the streetlights flickering conspiratorially before circling the car to check on your driver. But all you see in front of the bonnet is a trail of blood. Not a marten. No one. Probably he's just taking the dead animal away, burying it so the kids won't get spooked in the park the next day.

The cool air seems to bite down to your bones, numbing your skin as you count off two minutes. The restlessness keeps you looking around and for a moment you are willing to jump in the car and eagerly drive on. But your driver also has your new identity and all the other things that have been so painstakingly prepared. You can't leave without him. So you stroll a few steps towards the park. Just until the blackness seems to swallow everything, because the flickering streetlamps don't give enough light for more.

Tense, you cross your arms in front of your chest, bobbing up and down before gnawing fear begs for action. “Hello?”

Only silence returns to your question and you can't help but take a step over the dark threshold and venture further ahead to find your driver. Three, four feet ahead to the first tree closest to you. “What's wrong?”

Again you meet only silence, staggering a few more steps ahead and giving up in the same breath. A glance over your shoulder moves the car, which is already a few metres away from you, into a ghostly, almost lonely picture, apart from the other vehicles that pass by every now and then. No one seems to care about the abandoned automobile.

A little more annoyed, you take a breath, shake your head as something wet hits your cheek and you instantly look up because the sky didn't look like rain at all when you started running.

And it still doesn't.

Nevertheless, your heart stops for a beat.

Cold seems to consume you from within, makes you pull your coat tighter.

Up there, above you, fixed between branches, the lifeless eyes of the man who was supposed to help you escape stare back at you. His arms hang twisted above him and his legs are missing entirely. In the darkness, suffused with moonlight, you can only make out the bitter facts. And one of them is death.

“Do you like it?”

Instantly you suck in the air sharply, turning around in an instant only to catch sight of Hisoka. Leaning relaxed against a tree, he shuffles his cards as if nothing has happened. “I thought we had decided that you would wait in the hotel room. Where were you going with that man at such a late hour?”

His gaze lifts so that his amber eyes can look at you, while his features wait in a lack of enthusiasm for answers. You don't know if he's angry, but his expression seems to threaten you.

“I-I... I wanted to...” What do you want to say anyway? You don't know yourself what exactly you wanted other than to just get away from him for too many things that seem wrong. “Away.”

“Where to?”, Hisoka inquires, pushing himself off the trunk and coming closer. The cards disappear into the pockets of his white trousers in the same blink.

“Just... away,” you counter, unable to look at him any further because his eyes seem to look right down into your core.

“From me?” He pauses in front of you. “Why?”

Again your attention jerks to him and you hate the fact that he is wearing heels because it only makes him taller than he already is.

“You... are... constricting me.”

“Is that so?” The almost biting undertone in his voice is frightening. But you don't have time to think of what his next move might be as he grabs you by the chin and forces you to look at him very closely. His grip is so tight around your jawbone as he does so that you panic he might break it.

Then he leans towards you, breathes such a gentle kiss on your lips that, along with fear, terrible warmth rises up inside you. Your heart races wildly, but you don't know if it's the fear or the longing. Seeing him like this, knowing he is so close to you, is cruel because you love him, don't want to leave him, but don't want to see either of you die either.

The mere thought of losing him, or not being good enough anymore, knots your stomach as your vision blurs and the sobs in your throat quietly spill out.

Hisoka watches this rection, loosening his grip around your chin and running his thumb over your lips. A little like he wants more words from you. And you can't help but give them to him in a gush.

“I love you, Hisoka. I really do. But this can't work.” You have to swallow to keep from breaking into a raspy cough. “You lock me up like I'm your pet and you're messing with people who might kill you one day.” The first tear rolls down your cheeks unintentionally, making you wipe it away in frustration because you don't want to seem like an effeminate damsel in distress. “You're going to kill yourself because of me. And if not for that, then one day you'll just throw me away because you're not a man for life. And I'm afraid that by then I'll love you so much that I won't be able to stand it. So I was gonna let you go. And I can understand if you hate the decision, but isn't that the duality you love to talk about? Love and hate, both sides of the same coin? I-” Hisoka interrupts you as he takes your face in his hands and forcibly pulls you to him, far enough to force you onto your toes to press a kiss to your lips. A warm touch full of affection so gentle it takes your breath away.

Then he lets go of you, remains close in front, but his features are adorned with a friendly smile that makes him a little suspicious, while his hand caresses your cheek. As he does so, he brushes your lower eyelid, collecting another tear that was about to escape.

The tenderness he has for you irritates you so much that every one of your brain cells shuts down for a breath before Hisoka focuses on you again, piercing you with a blank stare. The atmosphere between you grows heavier.

“You think too much about nothingness, love.” His voice is so soft that it seems almost deadly at the same time. “And because you're like that, I'm going to let you get away with it for today.” He leans down to your ear, licks once over the shell with the tip of his tongue. “But if you run away again, I will kill you.”

“H-Hisoka...” You don't know what you can say to appease him. Nothing seems good enough. But Hisoka understands, straightening up to look at you again, putting on that playful smile he goes through life with. “Or I can put you in chains so I can have you with me for the rest of my life. Whichever option you like better.”

He tilts his head, looking at you with mockery and at the same time with a barely perceptible commitment so that you can feel the blush on your cheeks. On one hand, he's making a fool of you, on the other, he's conveying in his own unique way that he's sure he wants you for himself – forever.

He can't stay mad at you for long, can't even punish you for your terrible action, just takes you as you are, as if he has a weakness for all your stupid words and your troubled feelings.

And in those seconds you know that he loves you no less than you love him.

[Picture from a card collecting game]

[Want to give me kudos or a request? Check here!]

[i-may-be]

hii! i was wondering if i could have a matchup if that's alright 🗿

i'm bisexual and my pronouns are they/them, i'm okay with being called anything really. i lean more tward a masculine side, but not by much (kinda 50/50)

fandom is mha <3 i'd like a romantic match up please

the characters i don't wanna be matched up with are any kids like eri because that's weird :/

my loved ones say that i have a pretty laid back personality but i can have my moments where i don't stop talking lmao 😭 i can be pretty spacey and i constantly zone out when someone's talking for a long period of time

i'd like only one partner please and thank you :)

my style kinda varies but i mostly wear baggy black jeans and over side band shirts and hoodies. my first impression is quiet and reserved, but when i get to know someone well i talk (a lot)

other things i do when i'm comfortable with someone : i like to call them dumb and random names i make fun of them sometimes if i'm really comfortable around the person, i kinda hold onto them

some of my hobbies include playing the guitar, the drums, and bass. i also love skating and listening to music. i love cats and going to music stores and just looking around. people watching at the park is also pretty neat. i also really love the colors green and purple. i don't really like neon colors or loud noises.

and my type is calm white boys (a little emo) and really powerful women

thank you so much and have a great rest of your day !

hello! thank you for choosing this blog for your matchup <3

ROMANTIC MATCHUP: Nejire Hado

HOW YOU MET

You were in a relatively empty cafe enjoying your order when she first approached you.

Kinda put you off at first, because why is someone approaching you randomly in a cafe? But she was asking you questions faster than you could really think so you were already off to a rough start.

Things eventually smoothed over when Mirio came in(apparantly he was supposed to meet up with Nejire sooner, but she became bored with waiting for him after he was delayed) and he apologised for her bluntness and a few tad invasive questions that you never got around to answering in the first place.

Whatever tension you had eventually died down with Mirio there to make Nejire a little bit less intense, and somehow you all found yourselves deep in a conversation until the pair had to leave to go through with their original plan.

After that, you seemed to meet Nejire in random places and slowly got to know each other more thanks to her chatty personality and by your own growing proximity and encounter rates(that pokemon deep dive really pulling through in my writing lmao).

RELATIONSHIP HEADCANONS

I don't know what your music taste is- like I'm assuming it's good considering it seems to be a big part of your life and you play three instruments- but just know Nejire's music taste is pure shit. Like in the most affectionate way possible, she has really bad taste in music. Like not even in the mainstream bad music way, she just listens to very obscure bad music. Respect though, she's dedicated.

While you both differ in a lot of hobbies and just your personalities in general, Nejire's curiousity about everything brings you both together as she learns more about your interests. Plus, she's pretty admirable in her determination and drive which pushed her to become one of the top 3 UA students. She admires a lot about you too, just like she admires things about everyone around her, but you're special in the sense that you can convince her to actually ask her what she admires about you, a question to payback for all the intrusive questions she gives you without much warning.

Get prepared to start knowing a lot of people and have a lot of people know you. Since she's settled more in herself and now has a chatty personality, Nejire knows a lot of people, and a lot of them are going to learn about you when you both get together. News spreads quickly, and your name will be associated with her. It's not anything anyone can control, but be warned.

HANGING OUT

You both seem to share that kind of curiousity about people, you with your people watching and Nejire with her, well her more blunt approach. You could definitely drag her out to people watch with you, she can definitely hold back going up and chatting to them if you want her to just sit with you and talk quietly about your observations.

Due to her quirk and the training she has to go through to overcome it, Nejire will sometimes just come to you utterly exhausted by the day. When she's in this state, she's much more willing to just let you talk about whatever you want or put on some music while she relaxes herself.

Ice-skating dates, go figure. I think she'd do kinda dumb stuff on the ice to see you laugh, but she's too cool to actually fall or anything. After you guys would go to a cute little cafe to eat or get a drink or whatever, but it's just a sweet time for you two where you have her full attention.

[comfortwriting]

I Prefer You - F.W

Fred Weasley x Fem reader 

Masterlist , Request Rules , Writing Prompts

About: The reader is best friends with the Weasley twins, whilst studying with them, Cedric Diggory shows up and confesses his love for her. Little does the reader know, Fred is also in love with her. She finds herself having to deal with Fred and Cedric competing for her love and in the end she has to choose one.

Warnings: love triangle, major fluff! 

“I wish he’d stop staring at you” Fred huffed, staring at the popular Hufflepuff student who couldn’t take his eyes off you.

George looked over his shoulder, making eye contact with Cedric, turning back around and tapping the book you were reading. 

“He’s been at it since you bloody walked in.” George spoke up, trying his best to not notify the whole library. 

You smirked and stopped focusing on your DADA homework, looking up you caught Cedric’s glance, his pearly white teeth twinkling as he smiled, his grey eyes radiating love towards you. You smiled back and waved at him, looking back down at your work and chuckling.

Fred didn’t like the way you looked at Cedric, in fact he hated it, he hated that Cedric had to be staring at you and not his handful of fangirls that constantly flocked around him everywhere he went. 

“Oh do give over” Fred huffed again, looking at you “you can’t be seriously entertaining that air head.” 

You looked up from your work again and looked at Fred, his facial expression hardened and you could tell that he was in no mood to joke around, you opened your mouth to ask what his problem was but Cedric had already walked over to you, practicing his lines. 

“Y/N, may I have a word?” Cedric asked politely, his soft voice almost putting you in a trance. 

“Whatever you’ve got to say just spit it out, Ced.” Fred interrupted, fidgeting in his chair.

George smirked “Yeah, Ced. What's the big deal?”

Cedric pursed his lips trying not to laugh, he knew the twins were doing this on purpose but he wouldn't allow them to get in the way of what he wanted, even if they had more influence over you than he did.

Cedric looked at Fred and George and nodded “Alright then��� he cleared his throat and looked back at you “Y/N, I was wondering if you would like to accompany me to Hogsmeade this weekend on a date.” 

The four of you went silent for a moment, Fred’s heart rate elevated and he felt like jumping out of his chair and battering Cedric for making a move on his girl - but then Fred realised that he had never told you how he felt, he always assumed the two of you would have a moment but it never happened and it certainly wouldn't now thanks to Cedric. 

George stared at his brother, preparing himself to hold him back if he tried to go for Cedric, and you - you were sat in your chair feeling flattered that someone had asked such a thing, that someone saw something in you for the first time. After all, you were hoping Fred would gain feelings for you like you did for him, but in your mind, Fred wasn’t interested in being anything more than best friends. 

You blushed and nodded “I would love to” you smiled back at Cedric, cracking Fred’s heart.

Cedric chuckled and licked his lips, nodding his head, looking incredibly proud with himself “I’ll see you Saturday” he replied, walking away. 

“And in class!” you reminded him, shaking your head and closing your book. 

Five days, you had five days until your big date with Cedric and funnily enough, Fred was more nervous than you were. 

“Are you actually going with him?” Fred asked, stabbing his slice of chicken breast with his fork. 

You could tell Fred was irritated, annoyed, but you couldn’t understand why. You thought after all the other people you had brought up he would finally approve of the student who went ahead and made a move on you. 

You looked at Fred and swallowed a mouthful of pumpkin juice, you placed your Goblet back down on the table. “I said yes didn’t I? Why are you so bothered about it, Fred?” 

George nudged Fred and whispered in his ear “just tell her, Freddie.”

You looked at Fred and started to slice your own chicken breast into strips “tell me what?” you shoved a strip into your mouth and started to chew.

Fred sighed and gave in, looking at George before focusing on you. “I fancy you alright, I’ve been after you since third year and as soon as that plonker shows up you’re all giggly.”

You inhaled a few dry strings of skin from the chicken breast, causing you to choke, you grabbed your goblet and downed some more juice, washing down the bits that got stuck in your throat. 

“why didn’t you tell me sooner?” you hissed at Fred “I fancy you too!” 

You didn’t mean to let that last part slip but it was already too late. 

Fred’s face turned into a massive grin, he put down his knife and fork “do you really?” 

You nodded your head and continued to eat your breakfast. 

“Brilliant, cancel your date with Cedric and we’ll go instead.” Fred looked over at the Hufflepuff table and laughed at Cedric gently buttering his toast.

You shook your head and grinned back at Fred, your plate almost empty. “No” you replied “if you want me you’ve got to prove it.” 

From Monday onwards Fred and Cedric went head to head with one another, constantly trying to one up each other and increasing how much love they were showering over you. Cedric didn’t give up all because Fred entered the picture and Fred didn’t give up as Saturday got closer.

Four Days

Walking over to you bed your jaw dropped, bouquet's of flowers littered your quilt covers and rested against your pillows, you were surrounded by sunflowers and  yellow roses, all of which were from Cedric - the yellow notes representing his house. 

As much as you loved the sentiment, flowers weren't really your thing - sure they were gorgeous and they brought you light when you looked at them but it didn’t make you double over in laughter like Fred did and everything he did for you. Instead of flowers and detailed love letters, Fred didn’t gift you anything except his biggest and most comfy jumper that his mother knitted, he also gave you his time and effort. 

You walked into the great hall wearing Fred’s jumper, his ego boosting and Cedric’s crumbling. 

“You look stunning in my clothes” Fred smirked, taking a bite out of his toast.

You blushed and sat next to him “I want more than just your jumper.”

Three Days

As much as Cedric wanted to, he didn’t have as much time as Fred - well he did - but he spent that time studying, going to extra classes and entertaining his fanbase. The only time you got with Cedric was in Herbology, he tried getting to know you better, asking you about your interests but he couldn’t make you laugh, he didn’t understand your humour. 

“I don’t understand” Cedric replied “is that supposed to be funny?”

You sighed and shook your head “it doesn’t matter, don’t sweat it Ced.”

Two Days

You and Fred bunked a few classes and went off to Hogsmeade, going crazy in Honey Dukes and even cuddling up together and sharing a Butterbeer to keep yourselves warm. The two of you stayed up all night, winding up Mr Filch and Mrs Norris, you even went into Snape’s personal stores and stole the ingredients to make a Poly Juice potion, transforming yourselves into Draco and Pansy to get them into more trouble. 

“On second thoughts, I don’t think you’re that pretty.” Fred grimaced at you.

You stared at him and walked over to him, pulling out one of his platinum blonde hairs “could say the same thing about you” you joked, both of you waiting for the potion to wear off.

One Day

“You looking forward to tomorrow then?” Fred smirked, seeing you groan in pain.

You shook your head “it’s going to be unbearable, he’s can’t make me laugh, he’s too soft, can’t take joke. I feel like he gets scared and takes things a bit too literally.”

Fred grinned and licked his lips “well I make you laugh all the time, wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve wet yourself because of me.” 

Rolling your eyes you looked over at the Hufflepuff table again, Cedric talking with his fanbase. 

“He’s got more than enough options, the majority of them girls are better suited for him than me.” 

You turned your focus back to your food and took a bite out of your sandwich.

“Aright then, if you’ve got it all figured out go and tell him.” Fred encouraged you, his ego shinning through, George just wanting the two of you to shut up and be together already. 

You knew Fred was testing you again and you didn’t want to back down, after Cedric’s offer, you and Fred were finally heading where you always wanted, you felt yourself itching for him, hungry for him, you wanted him - the more you wanted him, the less you wanted Cedric, the less the popular Hufflepuff lad stood out to you. 

“Okay then, watch me.” 

Standing up, you left your table and walked over to Cedric, his fangirls instantly looking appalled to be in your presence. You tapped him on the shoulder, Cedric turned around and smiled searching your face. 

“Y/N” his face fell when he noticed you were still wearing Fred’s jumper.

“Ced - Cedric, I’m sorry but I’ve changed my mind about tomorrow.”

The infatuated girls around him started to smile, suddenly enjoying you being around. Cedric looked upset but then again you couldn’t read into him like you could Fred, you realised that you barely knew Cedric at all - he was sending love letters and flowers to a girl he didn’t know at all.

“She’s taking her bloody time isn’t she?” George spoke up watching you.

“Shut up” Fred shushed him “wait for it”

You smiled slightly and looked at Cho for a moment who was sitting with her friends “you should ask Cho, I know she sees something in you.”

“She’s done it” Fred smirked “she’s actually done it.”

Saturday

“I still can’t believe you nearly ended up with that toss-pot.” Fred laughed, grabbing some black pepper imps. 

You grabbed some Chocolate Frogs “it’s a good job that I prefer you” holding his free hand the two of you shared a moment.

The overcrowded sweet shop suddenly felt empty, as if it were only you and Fred inside. Getting on your tiptoes and leaned in and Fred accepted, the two of you sharing the first kiss of many. 

Pulling away from the kiss, Fred grinned and licked his lips, bringing his hand up to your face and stroking your cheek with his thumb.

“I feel like such an idiot for not telling you sooner” Fred shook his head “I can’t believe you didn’t say anything either”

“I was sort of just waiting for it to happen, I suppose we’ve got Cedric to thank for that.”

Taglist: @reeophidian , @amourtentiaa

[hongism]

mists of celeste ➻ 35

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

⇐ previous | next ⇒ | masterlist

✧✧✧ act five ➻ part two

​​​​

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

“Why are we bringing him aboard?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“There’s nothing to stop yet, Y/N.”

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

“What do you want more than anything else?”

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

“What about after that then?”

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

“Your silence is answer enough for me.”

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

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

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

“Has… has Jisung learned anything yet?”

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

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

Seonghwa shakes his head from side to side.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“J-Jisung?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Aye, aye, acting Captain.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How do you expect me to do that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

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

“Seonghwa?”

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

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

“Where are we?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ten…”

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

“Thr—”

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

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

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

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

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

“Did the fucker break another of your dishes?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I ask that you give me a chance.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Um, Park Seonghwa, sixteen.”

“Kim Hongjoong, sixteen.”

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

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

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

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

“To a new partnership.”

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

The man at your side cracks the slightest of smiles.

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

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

“Not being able to save Hongjoong from himself.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll explain everything.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You jolt back into a state of full consciousness by choking on air and throwing your body upright. The room swirls for several seconds before coming into focus, and you find yourself seated on the floor beside Seonghwa’s bed with no recollection of falling off at any point. There is a body in front of you and another on your left side, but their faces don’t process in your mind until you’ve caught your breath a bit. It’s Jongho at your side, who presses a hand to your sweat-slick forehead with so much concern in his eyes that it’s overwhelming, and Yunho is knelt by your feet with a similar expression of concern.

“Wh-Why are you here?” You ask, throat burning from the few words. Yunho glances over at Jongho, and the pair exchange unspoken words in their eyes.

“You pinged all our wristbands, Y/N. Called through the comms and said you needed help and that Seonghwa wouldn’t wake up,” Yunho murmurs.

“Where? Where is Seonghwa?”  Yunho motions towards the bed on your right, and you peer over the mattress to find Seonghwa sitting at the opposite edge of the bed with his head in his hands and elbows propped on his knees. Yeosang is in front of him, squatted to be eye level with the man, and he rests a hand atop one of Seonghwa’s knees.

“Seonghwa… when we came in, his body was in a state of shock, and his heart w-wasn’t — he was completely unresponsive. I almost couldn’t get him awake at all. On top of everything else we’re dealing with, why does this have to happen too?” Yunho drops his chin and exhales a shaky laugh. It’s a haunting reality that Seonghwa almost died in his sleep because of Daichi and his warning, but nothing ever felt quite as real as it did this time. “This must be some sort of bad omen.”

Yunho drops a hand to your leg before pushing himself to his feet. He steps around the bed and makes a beeline for Seonghwa now, leaving you in Jongho’s care for the time being.

“What the hell happened?” Jongho asks once Yunho is out of earshot.

“I… it was – just a bad nightmare.” You can’t look Jongho in the eye when you speak the lie, too ashamed to even be lying in the first place, and it’s only when your gaze wanders around the room a bit that you realize one person in particular isn’t present. “Where’s Jisung?”

“We saw him to a spare bedroom after dinner, so I’d assume he must still be in there.”

“He didn’t come out with the commotion?”

“What could he do even if he did?” Jongho shrugs a bit and lets his hand drop to your shoulder. He makes a good point in his statement, and it’s enough to shut you up and not prod the subject further.

“I need Seonghwa to the medbay with me so I can run some sleep tests and make sure everything is normal in the brain and heart,” Yunho states, peeking over to where you and Jongho are still seated. “Y/N, I’m a bit concerned about you not remembering calling for help, so I’d like you to—”

“No,” you interject, swallowing roughly. Yeosang looks at you over Seonghwa’s shoulder, and your eyes meet for the briefest of moments. He inclines his chin a bit as though trying to tell you something, but you can’t decipher what the hell he’s trying to say in the slightest.

“Jongho, you help Seonghwa to the medbay with Yunho. I’ll stay with Y/N for the time being.” Yeosang’s suggestion seems to catch everyone off-guard, including you, but based on the look in his eyes, there’s something else going on so you can’t find it in you to fight it. Jongho glances down at you.

“Is that – will you be okay?”

“I’ll be fine, Jongho, I promise,” you murmur back, placing a hand over where his rests on your shoulder. “Go with Seonghwa and make sure he’s okay first. I just feel exhausted right now honestly.”

“Okay, if you need anything—”

“I’ll call you, Jongho. Okay?” You press a weak smile onto your lips. The Berserker seems content enough with your words, and he helps you to your feet before stepping around the bed to do the same for Seonghwa. You sink back onto the mattress almost immediately, watching with a heavy heart as Jongho loops Seonghwa’s arm around his shoulders and helps carry the man out of the room. You wait to speak again until after the door slips shut and leave you alone with Yeosang. “What happened?”

“You didn’t call the others right away,” he says, tone so quiet you have to lean in to catch it. “Wooyoung called me asking for help.”

“Wooyoung — he what? In m-my body?”

“Yes, I thought – I thought it was a joke at first but he confirmed it was him, so I came over as quickly as I could. He said that you were crying out for his help so loudly that he passed out to come to you. Did you go to his body?”

“I was unconscious the entire time. But Wooyoung… he came to me in my dream.”

“Wooyoung was brief in his explanation to me, but he seems to think that it can only happen when one of you needs help too. He only heard you when you needed him, and he said that just before you came to him the first time in the cell… he was crying out for some sort of help. Then you showed up.”

“No, I don’t mean that he came to my body in my dream,” you say as you push yourself further onto the bed and face Yeosang head-on. “I was drowning in a black lake, and Wooyoung saved me.”

“His dream?” Yeosang’s expression melts into one of shock. He draws his lips into a tight ‘o’ then stares down at the floor. “He mentioned finding someone. He kept ranting on and on about how he finally found her. I was trying to get him to focus on the issue at hand, but he just wanted to talk about that.”

“But he didn’t wake me up. How did he help then?” Perhaps he was trying to pull you out of the dream before Daichi interrupted. But Wooyoung couldn’t have possibly been in your body at the same time that he was in your dream, so it must have happened after Daichi attacked you since Yeosang said Wooyoung mentioned finding you.

“It wasn’t about helping you, Y/N,” Yeosang whispers. He glances down at the spot where Seonghwa was just seated. “You asked him to help you save Seonghwa.” It hits then that as you were fighting for your life between drowning in a lake without relief and being attacked by Daichi, your subconscious was only worried about whether Seonghwa was okay or not. “He had to take control to call for help, but before he called me, he pulled Seonghwa’s body out of shock at least enough to get his heart going again. He stalled the shock long enough to get Yunho over here after talking to me first. He called the rest through your wristband after. Something must have happened on his end though because as soon as he finished speaking, your body dropped and went unconscious again.”

“Did Seonghwa mention what he saw?” You inquire, but a large part of you is too afraid to hear the answer.

“You weren’t with him?”

“We… were separated at some point.”

“He didn’t say anything about what he saw, but he was too shaken up to even speak. One would think that based on the visceral reaction his body had, it was something far beyond his worst nightmare.” Your body moves before your mind does, and you are suddenly on your feet again upon hearing Yeosang’s words. He regards you with a puzzled stare for a moment, eyes watching you move around the bed and to the door on unsteady feet. “Where are you going?”

“I need to talk to Jisung. I… I have some questions about my past.”

✧✧✧ a/n: hi hi HI guess WHO yeah its me its been a minute im SORRY this chapter just did not want to cooperate no matter what every time i sat down to write until today it was like No. but then i hit my stride and wrote like 6k today oopsie anyway hi info dump im so sorry about how much info there is in this one and sldfjlsdkf there’s a lot of backstory and symbolism and im afraid it’s a Mess but it iz what it iz so we’re rolling with it and im kinda delirious so that’s All i’ll say so yeehaw let me know how you feel what you think i love u all!

taglist: @faeriewoobin​​ @sugarrimajins​​ @atinyinwonderland​​ @2504-life @lil7bluedragon​ @sparklychangbin​​ @jeong-uwu​​ @jeonartemis​​ @anothershorthuman​​ @xxbluestrifexx​​​ @haotheheckk​​ @noonawriter​​ @lostscenarios​​ @nlost21​​ @mirror-juliet​​ @okokokok123-45​ @purple-aeon​ @theoinkypiglet​ @toothlessshiber​ @atinyarmyx1​ @simpforhyunjin​ @hwangwoosan​ @vampire-jimin​ @softyubi​ @drumboydowoon​ @chatsgotmytongue​ @just-a-starfruit​ @babydolljo​ @scintillating-souls​ @khjssss @felixity​ @rawrrainn​ @hewwo-from-the-other-side​

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

[bonjour-rainycity]

Double Heart | Chapter Twelve ~ Cosima

|previous part|

Pairing: Haldir x OFC

Rating: PG-13

Word count: 3433

Warnings: None

**Read on Ao3 under the user “bonjour_rainycity if you prefer!**

A/n Sorry for the delay! Thanks for your patience and for reading :) Also, I’m so glad you liked the cuteness of the last chapter <3

I wake to an insistent pounding on my door.

I grumble against the noise and the sunlight, pulling the thick duvet over my head.

“Cosima,” a voice sings from behind the wood. “Rise and shine, it is well past lunchtime.”

I crack open an eye. The sun shimmers aggressively, forcing me into a state of awareness. Too early. But Rumil’s wake-up calls and knocking are insistent, so I haul myself out of bed and dress quickly, running a washcloth over my face and a brush over my teeth. When I’m decent, I swing open the door to fix Rumil with what I hope is a withering glare.

He grins brightly. “You look tired.”

“Wow, thank you,” I deadpan, opening the door wider to allow him in. He jaunts to the chaise lounge and reclines on the pillows, evidently in the mood to borrow the luxury of my guest room.

I offer him a glass of lemon water and pour one for myself, then sit on the couch opposite him.

He gives me a sly look. “You know, Haldir came into our room quite early this morning.”

I freeze mid-sip.

Rumil nods gleefully. “Woke me up—quite rude, if you ask me. Though I do have to wonder, what kept him out so late? Surely he was exhausted from his long day at the borders.”

I take a deep breath, trying to relax the tension that has shot its way into my shoulders. Rumil just likes to tease. You didn’t do anything wrong or scandalous — not even anything of interest.

He continues. “And then I come to visit my friend out of the goodness of my heart and find her sound asleep at two in the afternoon. She greets me at the door with such dark circles under her eyes — did she sleep at all? What was so interesting that kept both my brother and my good friend awake into the early hours of the morning?”

I roll my eyes, trying to seem nonchalant about it. After all, there’s no reason to feel cornered like Rumil is so obviously trying to achieve. “I couldn’t sleep. I was on my way to the gardens when I ran into Haldir and he ended up coming with me.”

“To the gardens?”

“Yes.”

“Late at night?”

“Yes.”

“Alone?”

“Yes, Rumil,” I huff.

He looks positively delighted. “And what did you do to pass all that time in the gardens late at night by yourselves?”

I squirm under his gaze then force myself to stop. It looks suspicious. “We talked a little. And then stargazed. At some point I fell asleep, he woke me up and walked me back to my room. The end.”

“The end,” Rumil echoes dubiously.

“Yes,” I insist, just about done with this conversation. It’s ridiculous — we did nothing to warrant this questioning. “If you don’t believe me, you can ask your brother.”

“I did.” My eyes blow wide in disbelief. Somehow, Rumil looks even more smug than he did a second ago. “He quite forcefully told me to leave him and you alone. Such a strong reaction over a little thing, wouldn’t you agree?”

I fight the urge to groan loudly and instead take a sip of my water. I cross one leg over the other. “Is there something you would like to say or are you just here to interrogate me?”

He shrugs, looking completely unapologetic. “No, I think I am done for now. I’ll let you know if that changes, though.”

“Please do,” I snark.

He stands, placing his glass on the table. “I did actually come here for a larger purpose. Orophin and Lavandil went riding and missed lunch, so we’re having an impromptu picnic in one of the towers. It has some lovely views. Would you join us?”

The emptiness in my stomach begs me to agree, but the word ‘tower’ gives me pause. Rumil guesses the direction of my thoughts and huffs. “The tower is encased in stone, it is perfectly safe. You would have to jump onto the barrier and lean over to be in danger of falling off.”

I consider his words. That doesn’t sound too bad, and I am hungry. “Alright,” I agree. “But I’m inviting Alex.”

Rumil makes a noise of general acceptance and gives me directions to the tower. Before leaving, he snatches one of the thicker quilts from a storage basket. “Cost of attendance is the blanket we use to sit on. See you there!” With a cheeky wink, he disappears, leaving me feeling whiplash from the quick turns in our conversation.

Before leaving to find Alex, I pull a few pillows from the seating area. They’ll make for some extra cushion on the hard stone. And, since Rumil annoyed me, he will not be getting one.

Ha.

At my knock, Alex throws his door open, greeting me with a wide smile. “Hello, Cosima.”

Well, that’s not what I was expecting. I blink and step into his room, careful not to tread on one of the many books and scrolls scattered around the floor. “Uh, you’re more chipper than I thought you would be after yesterday. How are you doing?”

He shrugs, throwing his hands into his pockets. “I mean, it didn’t feel great to find out that Elrond can’t help us, but I am holding out hope for Lady Galadriel. In the meantime, though, I’ve borrowed some materials from the library to see if there’s anything I can learn to help in getting us home. Most of them are in that Elvish language—Sindarin—so I’m having to learn the basics of the language first. Baranor offered to help — we’re meeting this evening after he’s done with his shift in the healing wards. Want to read the English ones with me and then come along? I’m sure he’d be fine with teaching you, too.”

“Um…” I trail off, feeling guilty. I’m attending a picnic with my friends while Alex is pouring over resources and learning the language of this land — he’s doing something helpful to try and get us home.

But if I’m being honest, I don’t want to do research right now. It’s not like there’s likely to be anything we could do, anyway. The best option is to just wait for Lothlórien and see what Lady Galadriel says. I clutch the bulky cushions tighter in my arms. “Can I take a rain check? A few of us are going to the tower to have a late lunch. That’s actually why I came here. Want to come?”

Alex looks at me like I’ve grown a second head. “You don’t want to see if there’s something in these books to help us?”

I shift my weight uneasily. “Not now…I haven’t eaten yet, and I already said I would go to the picnic. And I mean, come on, how likely is it that there’s something in those books Elrond isn’t aware of? It’s his library.”

“It has forty-two thousand volumes.”

“He’s lived a long time,” I defend weakly.

Alex’s eyes tighten into a glare.

“Look,” I try, “I’m gonna go eat, but what if I joined you and Baranor this evening? It’s smart to learn the language. And then maybe later I can help you look through these books.”

He sighs and shrugs his shoulders, looking frustrated but resigned. “Yeah, that’s fine. We’re meeting at five-thirty on the second floor of the library.”

“Okay,” I exhale, relived to have avoided a larger argument “I’ll be there. You sure you don’t want to come eat?”

He shakes his head, crouching to the ground to pick up a particularly withered scroll. “No, I ate in the dining hall. See you tonight.”

“See you,” I mumble, backing out of the room. I feel bad for not helping him, but hopefully joining him and Baranor tonight will smooth things over.

Following Rumil’s directions are relatively easy and, before I know it, I’m navigating the hallways to one of the towers built into Elrond’s home.

“Cosima!”

I stop in my tracks and turn at Haldir’s call. He jogs to catch up to me, having just entered the long hallway, and greets me with a pleasant smile. As always, he looks perfectly rested and put together — not a strand of hair out of place. Today he wears a tunic of deep grey, his clear blue eyes standing out in stark contrast.  

“Hi!” I wait for him to fall into step beside me. Unbidden, Rumil’s gleeful teasing enters my mind, and I feel my face go hot. What? I clear my throat. “Are you going up, too?”

“Yes, it’s—here,” he pulls the four bulky pillows from my grasp into his. My arms drop limply at my sides, suddenly relieved from their task. To give them something to do, I tug on the sides of my dress, trying to smooth the wrinkles that have somehow already appeared.

Haldir continues. “Rumil insisted it would be fun and it’s such a nice day I figured, why not?”

We turn a corner and begin our ascent up a tall spiral staircase. I remember a snippet of our conversation from last night. “Has Glorfindel come around?”

The edge of Haldir’s mouth pulls into a frown. “No. I talked with Elrond anyway and he’s agreed to my plan. It has set Glorfindel and myself at odds though, since I went over his head.”

I purse my lips. Though Haldir doesn’t say it, he’s clearly bothered by this outcome — it’s obvious he hoped to resolve things peacefully with Glorfindel and gain Elrond’s support. I hurry to try and make him feel better. “You did the right thing. So what if you went over his head? If it keeps people safe, I doubt it really matters how the plan came to be. And as commander, isn’t it his job to recognize advantageous strategies regardless of where they come from? I wouldn’t worry too much about being at odds with Glorfindel — the two of you will reconcile soon enough. And in the meantime, it’s good that Elrond agreed with you. Now Imladris has more time to better prepare.”

Haldir pauses on the step above me, turning with his head tilted slightly to the side.

I freeze. “What?” Did I intrude? Did I offend him somehow?

“No, it’s—I…” He sighs, offering me a soft smile. “Thank you.”

Oh, good. I breathe out in relief, returning his smile. We resume our climb.

“Elrond gave the order to call up the entire force and rotate the soldiers — they should all be switched in about a week. He’s asked me to oversee their training, to teach the strategies I use with my own guard in Lothlórien.”

I snort. “You’re going to work while you’re on vacation? That’s the most you thing I’ve ever heard.”

He rolls his eyes, but the smile never leaves his face. “It’s important and something I enjoy, so I am happy to help. I haven’t forgotten my offer to you, though.”

I furrow my eyebrows. Huh?

“Do you still want to learn how to defend yourself?”

“Oh! Yeah, definitely, if you’ve got the time.”

He steps onto the landing, moving forward to make room for me. “Of course I’ve got the time.”

I step up next to him—

And immediately return to the staircase.

Haldir alternates between looking at me in confusion and scanning his eyes over our surroundings, wondering what would make me practically jump away from the landing.

He doesn’t have to wonder long.

“You said it was encased in stone,” I shout accusingly over Rumil’s wailing laughter.

“Did I say encased? I meant made of. Whoops, my mistake.”

“Rumil,” Haldir grumbles in annoyance, but that only seems to make his brother laugh harder.

The tower is not, as Rumil promised, encased in stone, but rather a circular platform with only a roof and four stone pillars to protect from falling. There is no guard wall or even a thin railing. And we are stories above the ground.

“Cosima, it’s alright,” Lavandil coos, though her encouraging words are damaged by her giggles. “Elves have wonderful balance, no one is going to let you fall. And look—we are set up right in the middle.”

“If it helps, I can shove Rumil off the tower to demonstrate elven reflexes,” Orophin offers through a chuckle.

This does make me feel slightly better, and I crack a small smile. On the step above me, Haldir waits patiently. Maybe I’m just being silly. I take a deep breath and step up to join Haldir on the landing.

And nearly sway in fear.

To my right and left are open sky — and too many feet below, the hard, deadly ground.

I suck in a sharp breath.

Rumil waves in joyful greeting. “Good to see you both. Now do sit down, Cosima, I worry you will faint and tumble over the edge.”

His words resonate with a very real fear and I scurry forward and practically throw myself onto the blanket. Haldir follows closely behind, offering a cushion to myself and Lavandil before using another to hit his youngest brother over the head. Even in my nervous state, I can’t help but join Orophin and Lavandil in their shocked laughter.

“Didn’t our parents teach you not to lie,” Haldir drawls, dropping the cushion to my left and sitting upon it. He tosses the other to Orophin, raising an eyebrow at Rumil as if asking him to challenge his choice.

Rumil grins, completely unaffected. “Then I apologize, dear Cosima, but your face was hilarious. And don’t you know we all like you too much to let you die?”

I huff, rolling my eyes and feeling better as long as I focus on the faces of my friends rather than the nearness of the edge. “Thanks.”

Lavandil wisely changes the subject. “No Alex?”

I shake my head. “He’s doing some research today. I’m supposed to meet him in the library at five-thirty — Baranor’s going to teach us Sindarin.”

A chorus of approval runs through the group.

“That’s a useful skill,” Rumil nods, taking a sip of what looks like orange juice.

“I’d be happy to practice conversation with you once you learn the basics,” Lavandil offers, and I accept readily. From the little I’ve spoken with her, I like Lavandil, and it would be nice to spend more time with her.

Tired of being the focus, I turn the conversation on my friends. I gesture between Lavandil and Orophin. “How did you two meet?”

Lavandil launches into an animated account of her relationship with Orophin from start to where they are now. Apparently, they met eight years prior when Haldir and Orophin were part of a company escorting Lady Galadriel to Imladris. Orophin was taken with her immediately, but it took Lavandil a little longer to come around.

“I always swore I would marry an architect—anyone but a solder,” she laments with comical exaggeration. “But eventually he persuaded me to give him a chance, and I haven’t looked back since.”

Orophin takes her hand in his and squeezes, staring at her like she’s the center of his world.

I don’t want to pry, but I do wonder how elven relationships differ from human ones. Just the time they’ve been courting—eight years—is much longer than I think is the standard for humans. I am lacking in memory, but surely with how short human lifespans are, they get married quicker? I make a note to ask Lavandil or Rumil about this later. Though, with all Rumil’s teasing of late, Lavandil is probably the safer option.

After I learn how Lavandil and Orophin got together, I have a lot of other questions about the lives these friends of mine lived before I knew them. As afternoon passes into evening, I discover that Rumil—unsurprisingly—has been the instigator of no less than four human bar fights, Lavandil once snuck from her childhood home to try and explore the mountains (and was promptly sent back to a furious mother), Orophin is apparently the life of the party after a bottle of Elvish wine, and, in his first few years of the guard, Haldir constantly challenged his superiors, to the point where they would send him off on solo trips just to be rid of the relentless suggestions. Before I know it, the first stretches of sunset streak through the sky and it’s nearing the time I set to meet Alex and Baranor.

I stand, sighing with no small amount of regret. I wish I could stay here with them all night. “I’ll see you tomorrow! I’ve got to get to the library for lessons.”

Rumil waves goodbye. “I’ll drop the blanket and cushions in your room. You know, as penance for tricking you.”

I roll my eyes, concentrating on his face rather than the open sky all too close to my feet. “That doesn’t even begin to cover it, but thank you.”

“Do you know the way?” Lavandil looks up at me with mild concern. I assure her that I’ve visited the library before and am mostly confident in my ability to not get lost.

Haldir wraps an apple and some bread in cloth and passes me the bundle. In response to my raised eyebrow, he quirks a knowing smile. “Baranor is likely to keep you well past dinner. He loves his lectures.”

I chuckle, agreeing that Baranor probably will, and thank my friend. After a final round of goodbyes, I hurry as quickly and carefully as I can to the security of the stairwell and head in the direction of the library.

{***}

Sindarin is complicated. Baranor seems to have an endless reserve of patience — how? I have no clue.

Alex struggles just as much as I do, but it is clear that he is more dedicated than I and pushes to keep his attention into the late hours of the night. I’m grateful Haldir had the forethought to send me with food, as are Alex and Baranor, who share the dinner. By the time ten o’clock rolls around, I’m fighting back yawns. I think I’ve got the alphabet down, though that isn’t even technically Sindarin — it’s the writing system called Tengwar — so I don’t even have any conversational phrases to try with Lavandil.

At midnight, Baranor finally calls it, acknowledging that he will need some sleep if he is to put in a full day tomorrow of researching with Elrond and doing a shift in the healing wards. But he graciously commits to teaching us three evenings a week after dinner and maintains that, after practice and time, we will improve.

We say our goodbyes and I practically stumble out of the library. I can think of nothing more than my plush duvet and cool mattress. Alex, on the other hand, somehow almost vibrates with energy. He seems rejuvenated, renewed, and for the first time, I recognize him as the same man in my memories — no longer is he weighed down by malnutrition, injury, exhaustion, and defeat. But it’s more than that. He’s no longer angry — hope lights up his eyes. He smiles broadly and insists on walking me to my room.

“Worried you’re gonna fall over, Cosi,” he reasons, sending me a wink. Even in my tired state, I have to blanch. It’s like being with a whole new person. But at the same time, I know this person. I like this Alex. At the very least, I know what to expect from him — he’s the friend I remember.

Though I do worry…what will happen to him if this search for answers is a dead end? What if we can’t get home?

I don’t want to think about how he would feel, then.

I don’t want to think about how I would feel, then.

We climb the stairs and reach my door, pausing outside it momentarily. I turn to my friend, giving him a sleepy smile. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

“Me too,” he agrees, leaning against the doorframe. “I just needed something to do. Now I don’t feel so helpless. And you’re okay? After yesterday’s setback?”

I sigh against the drowsiness. “Yeah, yeah I’m good. Don’t you worry about me.”

He nudges my shoe with his. “Good. Alright, I’ll leave you alone. Sleep tight, Cosi.”

I smile, waving as he walks down the hallway. “Night, Alex.”

Entering my room, I see that Rumil kept to his word and left the folded blanket on my couch with the four pillows stacked neatly on top. Still doesn’t atone for all his foolishness today. Crawling into my bed, I instantly fall asleep.

A/n Thanks for reading! Let me know if you would like a tag :) Comments, likes, and reblogs make my day! 

|next part|

|masterlist|

Tolkien tag list: @anangelwhodidntfall @eru-vande

Haldir tag list: @tolkien-apologist

Double Heart tag list: @lainphotography @themerriweathermage @thophil2941btw @kenobiguacamole @wishingtobeinadifferentuniverse @from-patroclus-with-love @boywivlove @ordinarymom1 @my-darling-haldir @sweet-bea-blossom @moony-artnstuff

[7wanderingpaws]

Captain Bucheon 03

Warnings: strong language

Word count: 5.9K

story masterlist masterlist

tags: @wooya1224 @to-all-the-stories-i-love @jennxx3 @realllllrica​

.

<-- Previous - Next -->

Third: Saving is Caring

“Lee Nari!”

Someone was shouting your name but you couldn't tell who exactly because the entire corridor you were residing on - the forsaken fifth floor, also the top floor of the building without an elevator - was flooded with girls. They were rushing to the opposite direction you were heading to, and you frowned deeply at anyone who made even the slightest brush against you - or your chest.

“Come to room number 501!” they shouted again.

“As if,” you scoffed to yourself and dodged one hand that was about to land on your breast.

“Aish, I was gonna try if they were actually real,” you heard the girl whine but her voice got quickly blocked out by exciting squeals.

Finally managing to land in your room, you basically kicked the door open, pissed, to find Yuyeon preparing in front of her make-up mirror. Her eyes were shining and she seemed way too happy.

“What the hell is happening out there?” you grumbled, slamming the door shut with your foot to isolate yourself from the annoying squeals. “It looks like a sect or something.” You dropped your bag in the corner and threw yourself on the bed, needing the relief in your tired muscles.

Running had been taking its toll on you the past weeks, let alone your job was tiring mentally, as well. There hadn't been any slip-ups or issues anymore like last time for which you were eternally thankful. That one time - yeah, you weren't sure you could deal with that again.

“You are coming toooo!” squealed Yuyeon as well and was fast to drop the blusher on her messy table before standing and jumping over to your bed, making you fly up on the mattress too.

You whined again and tried to kick her off your bed but she climbed over you and wiggled her eyebrows at you, a cheeky glint leaving an unease in your tummy.

“We-” she leaned into your ear, “are going to watch porn.”

You gasped and pushed her off of you, pink rising up to your cheeks. “What? Are you nuts? Why would you watch-”

“C'mon, Nari,” giggled Yuyeon, sitting up properly to let you sit up as well. Her shirt slid off her shoulder and her bra strap was showing which made you reach up to bring the shirt back to its original place. “I know you've already experienced it all but-”

This time, a horrified gasp left your mouth and you were fast to shut her up with a: “I haven't experienced those things at all!”

She frowned, pouting. “But you made out with Baekhyun and you said he touched you-”

Your head was starting to spin as you shook it so violently. “No, no, no, don't bring that up. He stopped when he found out I'm a virgin and it doesn't even matter!!”

“But Nari, he is a grown up male that knows eeeeeverything there is to know about, you know, sex, and he was hot and -”

“Yuyeon, please,” you begged, hiding your face behind your palms. You felt attacked at the memories of you and Baekhyun being all touchy. “It isn't that exciting,” you tried but you knew it was a terrible, terrible lie.

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. “You don't have to come if you don't want to but it will be fun with all the girls. We can talk about boys and men and, I dunno, just enjoy.”

You pursed your lips, not so sure. A good rest was what you needed, NOT temptation. Let alone, you wouldn't be able to get Baekhyun out of your mind were you to watch stuff like that. When you were about to speak up, Yuyeon added:

“You know, ever since stuff happened, we didn't really go out like that anymore… I kind of miss fooling around with you and just going against the rules - although now we can't do it since we are old enough to be naughty, but despite that I just miss doing cheeky stuff with my bestie.”

It was heart-warming to see Yuyeon be honest with you. Even the fact that she mentioned Baekhyun was a step forward for neither of you mentioned him unless necessary. Yuyeon was tiptoeing around you for one year in order to give you time to get over the mess that the mentioned male did to you and then she grew accustomed to your indifference towards your surroundings. You didn't talk about it and she didn't want to pry too much, always listening to bits of your thoughts here and there.

Yuyeon didn't feel guilty for mentioning Baekhyun's name; if anything, she hoped that you got over it and wouldn't react to him too much. For her, of course, Baekhyun was still on the “hated people” side like Chul. But he was also your ex and you were talking about girl stuff. Exciting stuff. Mature stuff. Baekhyun's name had to be mentioned for he was the whole package in the past.

“I know, and I'm sorry about that,” you murmured, averting your gaze. Her knees were bent, her skin showing as her shorts had ridden up. “We should start getting back on the track, right?”

The corners of Yuyeon's lip lifted in a small, encouraging smile. “Yes. So how about starting with the porn?”

You laughed out loud, smacking her thigh loudly, making her wince. “Okay, okay, just because it's you!”

“No, it's 'cause you are super curious as well!” she said, sticking her tongue out at you. “How it's all done and stuff.” She was growing red in her face, but her blush looked  pretty and made her even more youthful. It made you grin wider and you shook your head at her and also stuck your tongue out, playing the silly one.

“You talk too much! Go finish your make-up, you're friggin ugly,” you rolled your eyes in mock and climbed off your bed, ready to change into more comfortable clothes.

When her slap landed on your butt, you abruptly turned around, glaring at her but both of you eventually giggled. Yes, this will be the best way to get your mind off stuff and hopefully have a good girls' night.

><

The room 501 was crammed with girls and pink and magazines and make-up and perfumes and smartphones with instagrams open. They were all chatting excitedly while one of the girls, you presumed the person living in this room, was behind her laptop, searching the websites that already screamed porn.

Both you and Yuyeon plopped down on the bed, shimmying yourselves between two girls who immediately took you in, wanting to socialize. That part was a little painful on your side as you weren't looking for new friends; especially not the ones who kept commenting on your chest and choice of clothing.

“Isn't it hard to run for you?”

“Don't people stare a lot?”

“Has anyone touched without asking?”

“How do you buy your bras? Korea is full of A cups and B cups are already considered huge anyway!”

You sighed and ensured the very concerned girl that you were able to get the cup of your size just fine - though, only in a few shops that were designed for ladies that were more blessed. You definitely couldn't just walk into any shop of your liking.

“Okay, girls, it's about to start!” shouted one and smashed the space on her keyboard, starting the forsaken video.

Everyone went silent right away, almost waiting with bated breaths for what was about to go down. 

With a small frown, you were focusing on the small story they were trying to fool you with, immediately presenting a beautiful woman with blue eyes, of course. The man, though, wasn't a catch at all - not for you, at least. Some girls' eyes sparkled at the sight of the main male character and the way he was tanned and incredibly muscly.

“He looks like he could crash her bones,” whispered eagerly Yuyeon into your ear while not tearing her eyes away from the screen.

You hummed; the more it went on the more distrubed you started to feel. It was all incredibly bizarre and their love story was faced paced.

Founding yourself zoning out and blocking out the scenes that quickly grew heated and, well, disturbing to you, you spotted a calendar of models on the desk. It wasn't too far and you grabbed it quickly, not wanting to be in the line of vision of other girls who were literally drooling while hiding their faces behind their hands at the rated scenes.

Taking the calendar, you listed through what seemed like an endless amount of sexy pictures of firefighters in Bucheon. Just as expected, they were either shirtless or pants-less or both. Thank God they had underwear. You didn’t deny it; they were so handsome it almost seemed questionable. What were they like in real life? Were they really as passionate about their work as it said on the calendar? And, more importantly, were they really as handsome as the pictures were portraying them to be? 

You kept listing through the pages, sometimes stopping to read. When you spotted a familiar face though, you almost fainted. On it, the month of May, was none other than Baekhyun. A black leather jacket was on him, underneath he was shirtless with his dark blue ripped jeans low on his hips, red supreme underwear poking out to tease the eager eye. The way they were hugging his thighs had a strong effect on you. As he had his thumb (the one with the mole on it) causally hooked in the belt loop hole, it brought your attention to the thin, and what looked like very veiny, skin that disappeared in the underwear. He had lean muscle that wouldn’t intimidate a girl. In fact, it would affect her heavily. You noticed a few more moles on his abdomen, the ripped muscles making the skin on it exceptionally tight. Saliva collected in your mouth and you quickly swallowed, averting your gaze to the upper part of his face. His hair was styled like a rock star’s with a comma hanging over his forehead, his dark eyes glaring at the camera, charcoal black eyeliner making them seem deadly. His lips were parted ever so slightly, scarcely revealing his front teeth, and your gaze hooked on them just a little while longer than they should have. You remembered the moments he would bite them. When he would lick them. When he would smile with them; or kiss you with them. He looked stunningly hot and dangerous. You couldn’t believe you once had this man to yourself.

You had heart palpitations.

Slapping Yuyeon’s arm, you tried to get her attention. You needed to vent, otherwise you’d suffocate. Yuyeon was too preoccupied with the disturbing video playing which was why the girl sitting on your other side spoke up excitedly into your ear:

“Oh my god, that’s the captain of the police, Byun Baekhyun! My oldest brother went to the same school with him.” She stared at the picture. “He is so fucking hot.” She was basically salivating over the picture. With her words, you felt something move within you. What it was you weren’t sure, but you didn’t like it. It made your chest tighten up and your mood dampen. “There are many hot guys in that calendar but Baekhyun has his own charm. I’d go for him any minute.”

Not sparing any more time with the picture, you harshly turned over the page, revealing a mediocre looking police officer. He was very handsome, thanks to plastic surgery, but after seeing Baekhyun, all the males seemed dull and boring. Despite your wild thoughts, you muttered: “He’s okay, I guess.”

She nudged you with her elbow. “C‘mon, I can see the redness in your cheeks,” she giggled and just in that moment there was a loud moan coming from the laptop. You felt yourself burning up even more and you squirmed on the bed, warmth pooling in your belly. These feelings were so foreign to you.

“You’re friends with Oh Sehun, right?” She was adamant about talking to you. So you nodded in response. “Well, he is good friends with Baekhyun. Yeonhee, the one who lives in this room, got the calendar from him. She likes Sehun but I feel like she has secondary intentions. If she could get Baekhyun she would not hesitate to go after him,” she giggled into your ear just when another moan resembled the room.

You sighed. “Sehun is a good guy, you know?” you muttered to her and looked at her huge eyes, the way they seemed dilated. “I hope you can tell her not to toy with him.” You looked back down, now a doctor on the cover. A doctor?! “Or else she will deal with me and that won’t be nice.”

The girl went silent. Maybe you came off as rude but you didn’t have many friends; nor were you looking for more. So if someone played with someone that belonged to you, they could rest assured you wouldn’t let it slip. “Do you perhaps know Baekhyun?”

And there it went again. Silently, you cursed your luck. This man seemed to be everywhere you went and mentioned by anyone you talked to recently. You never realized just what power Baekhyun had over this city. Realizing you probably took more time to answer, you quickly shrugged your shoulders. “Just a little bit. He is quite older than us so I doubt he has interest in us, kids.” It hurt to say, but you knew it was the closest to the truth. Baekhyun made the age difference between him and you crystal clear and even used it as a barrier between the two of you. Even though he wanted you, it was a crucial reason for him to stop moving forward with you. Or more like, he wanted to take things slow. You scoffed out loud.

“Well, I guess he just hasn't met the right one. The young ones are always better than the older ones. The older guys are just too afraid to admit it,” she told you and leaned further away, most probably wanting to end the conversation. She must have noticed your defensive, indifferent position and figured she wouldn't get a juicy talk with you.

That was fine by you. Because right now your head was so full of him; you couldn’t produce a single comprehensive sentence without giving yourself away. You so wished to meet him again and talk to him. You so wished things would have gone differently between the two of you.

There were now harsh pantings in the background and you groaned inwardly. You slapped Yuyeon’s thigh to finally get her attention. At the impact, she jumped up and glared at you. “I’m leaving,” you mouthed, not wanting to wait for her reply, but she stopped you abruptly.

“Are you okay?” she whispered in your ear, but the disturbing noises were blocking out each of her words.

You only managed to nod quickly before scooting off the bed and, while ignoring the curious stares of the other girls, you quickly made your way out, desperately searching for fresh air that would hopefully help you clear your foggy mind.

Once out in the corridor, you inhaled deeply, trying to shake off the feelings in your body. How could you become so easily affected by a simple picture? It was the stupid background noise, added your brain and you rolled your eyes. You needed to let out your frustration and even though it was hard to believe, you decided you would make good use of it.

You would go running. For the first time. By yourself.

><

When you reached the running track, the main headlights of the field were already turned off, throwing the space into a darkness lit up by surrounding street lamps. That was good enough, as you seeked some kind of hiding. Deciding to pour your frustrations into your challenge in jogging, you padded over to the running field, feeling the ground softer under your running shoes. There was a group of boys wrapping up a football game while a lone man, a student, was making laps, unbothered by the minimal lighting.Without paying anymore attention to your surroundings, you slowly increased your walking into a light jog, not wanting to strain yourself too much. 

Your hair was flowing behind you in a high ponytail while the remnants of winter were biting into your skin, making your cheeks and nose red. You tried to focus on your breathing, wanting to make sure you wouldn't mess it up and therefore increase your stamina but it was fruitless as your mind immediately wandered off to the picture of Baekhyun in that calendar. It effectively quickened your heartbeat and you grew warm all over your body.

After two laps though, you became quickly tired and out of breath, your lungs on fire. There was an uncomfortable, sharp feeling in your side, the pain dull but making moving difficult nonetheless. The man who had been running the whole time without stopping didn't seem to break a single sweat the whole time.

“Oh, isn't that Lee?” you heard the boys talking to each other as they finally managed to clear up the field.

“The one with the boobs?”

You were fast to roll your eyes, angry tears burning up in your eyes at their careless words. Screw them all. Instead of staying on the field, you went inside the gym next to the field to get some water and try to calm down. Even though it was cold outside, a cold drink would hopefully help quieten the small rage inside of you. People like those were the ones you despised. They didn’t know anything about you and, naturally, you didn’t know anything about them. Yet, you were constantly under their scrutiny and sexualized in more than one way.

“Idiots,” you murmured to yourself, your skin heating up at the change of temperature once you entered the small building.

As you were filling up your bottle with the cold water, you heard the jerks entering the gym as well. They were laughing and joking amongst each other, their throaty laughs reaching your sensitive ears.

Cursing under your breath, you finished filling the bottle and turned to leave, just to stand face to face with all of them. They were grouped up on you, smirking.

Without sparing them another glance, you moved to walk around them but someone grabbed your arm, yanking you backwards, your back hitting the wall next to the water filter. It took you off guard and you managed to hit your head, too, and you scrunched up your face, hissing. “You piece of shit,” you spat angrily, your rage growing more when you noticed the dude’s hungry eyes on your chest.

“You surely are feisty! We heard so much from the seniors about you,” one of them spoke up, his eyes barely visible as they were shaped like slits, thin like pupils of a cat in broad daylight. “We all know you like to go against the rules.” A round of snickers resonated the otherwise empty space and you felt your heartbeat pick up in fear.

“Okay,” was your blunt answer and you once again wanted to step aside but the same jerk grabbed your arm, bringing you back. You gritted your teeth.

“You ain’t leaving just yet, little kitten,” he murmured darkly and this time, you felt like you wouldn’t be able to escape. “We won’t do anything bad. Just give us a little show of what you’re hiding underneath that hoodie of yours.”

If someone was living in your body right now, they’d know in an instant something terrible was happening, for your legs were shaking like a jelly, becoming one with the asphalt and therefore making you unable to move. Despite that, you scoffed, stubbornly insisting on showing your confident side. Those idiots wanted a reaction from you, but you wouldn’t give in. “Then turn on some porn. Though I’m not sure you’re ready to see that either with your tiny, premature, out-of-control dicks,” you said in a levelled voice, cutting each word off to emphasize the meaning so that their small brains would understand. “You ain’t shit,” you added when you saw some dudes growing red.

“You little bitch-“

There was an unexpected shadow that swooshed past and just in that second, too many things happened at the same time; a familiar scent hitting your nose; a sound of skin slapping skin reverberated the empty space followed by a groan. “She said to leave her, so respect a lady’s wish,” a low growl reached your ears and you almost fainted when you spotted short blonde hair and a handsome profile. Even from the side you could detect he was glaring, a stern gaze bringing out his authority and dominance that would make anyone quiver and render into submission. “Just a tip for the future if you want to get your dick wet,” added mockingly Baekhyun. He was staring down the group of young students for a little longer, surprisingly none of them making a fuss, before Baekhyun looked down at you, your shocked expression making your eyes much bigger than they usually were. “Let’s go.”

He didn’t wait as he started to walk ahead, only a couple of steps later looking behind his shoulder to double check whether you were following him or not.

Your legs had a mind on their own when they moved after Baekhyun, but your heart was beating crazily fast, the unexpected presence of the only male who was able to make you speechless and make you go crazy at the same time still stunning you. Why was he there? How did he know where you were? Oh, was it because you wished to meet him again? If so, then you wished all your wishes would become true this fast.

He led you outside of the gym, the annoyed voices of the boys barely reaching you now that they were out of ear shot. Cold air hit the dried sweat on your skin, making you shiver. Baekhyun stopped abruptly when he reached the track again and turned to look at you with an unreadable gaze. His heavy breathing was condensing into small puffs, his nose a little red. The chilly air biting his cheeks made his eyes water. You couldn’t stop staring at him and at the way he looked in that moment.

“You should-“

“Thank you,” you muttered at the same time as he spoke up.

Both of you went quiet right away and awkwardness creeped into the space between the two of you. Growing red, you averted your gaze, looking at the ground and hoping your wild heart beat would calm down.

“You should have been more careful,” he finally told you quietly, ignoring your word of gratefulness. There was a slight scolding undertone in his voice. “Those jerks are little kids who think with their dicks.”

You grew even more red at his words. Baekhyun must have heard their stupid request. Your throat restricted and your heart once again started to beat loudly. “I would have been okay,” you insisted. “But thank you anyway.” You meant it. You really did. 

Baekhyun saw you averting your gaze again and he took the time to observe you. You were still too young, but he definitely noted the way your facial features matured, with each passing year turning you into more of a grown woman while leaving the teen girl behind. Your hair was long and it seemed you lost some weight in your cheeks. He couldn’t imagine how much of a hard time you were having the whole time he wasn't by your side. And then you had perverts following you around. 

He cursed mentally, hating the simplest idea of anyone imaging you in a more mature way than you let on to a plain eye. Those bastards should have been thankful he didn’t actually use fists as he so wished. Because when they asked you to undress, he swore white spots of anger were blinding him, his emotions a wild hurricane of rage and hatred. The only thing moving him forward was to protect you even though you would have hated it.

“Just be careful next time,” he added gently, his features softening.

You looked up at him upon detecting the tone of his voice. “What are you even doing here?” Just then you took notice of his outfit and you recognized it. He was the person running when you arrived. He had been here the entire time, but you were swimming in sweet obliviousness. And just like that, the picture of him in the calendar popped up in your mind, making you avert your eyes right away. Heat pinked your cheeks which Baekhyun mistook for the coldness biting your cheeks.

“I come here to run,” he told you in a somber voice. “And we also work out here with Sehun so if you think I followed you here, you’re wrong.”

“I didn’t think you followed me here,” you retorted, wanting to roll your eyes.

“Well, on the contrary, I didn’t know you run too,” he said, a hint of tease present in his voice, though he didn’t smile. Showing his relief of you communicating with him could be a strategic bad step on his side.

You sighed at the mention of running and the reason behind it. “I’m doing a race at the festival so I have to practice. I’m not enjoying it and I’m not doing it out of my own will.”

“Then why would you do it if you don’t want to do it?” he asked, genuinely confused.

“Because I’m in the student council,” you replied almost in a whine. “They asked me and I couldn’t say no!” You threw your arms around, making it sound like a big deal. And for you, it was a big deal. You didn’t like how you were easily pushed around.

Baekhyun nodded, a small smile stretching his lips when he saw your comprehension. Sweet university life. “You must be very liked by everyone.”

You froze at that. That wasn’t true. How would you tell your ex the reason everyone was all over you was because you had huge tits and you were friends with Chul? “It’s not like that…”

Baekhyun nodded, noting your discomfort but deciding against questioning it. He didn’t think he was anywhere near the position to stick his nose into your business. For all he knew, he’d scare you away like that time in the bar but, frankly, he didn’t even utter a single word that night to give you a reason for your abrupt fleeing.

“So you run here often, huh,” he heard you say and then saw you shuffling your feet, the small stones of the track field rustling under them.

“Yeah, I do,” he replied almost breathily. There was an upcoming question hanging  in the air but he already forbade himself to hope.

You bit your lip harshly, bringing Baekhyun’s attention to the action. You were gnawing on it and you felt your body and mind betraying you. You were supposed to be mad at him. You despised this man standing in front of you so why was your heart beating frantically and, at his gentle tone, butterflies fluttering in your tummy? You felt warm just by his presence. He saved you. Yes, he didn’t even touch you, didn’t even take your hand like they do it in the movie. However, you witnessed the rage, the anger, the hatred, the need to fight but going against it so as not to cause problems. He cared about you, and he was still mature about it.

“Okay. Well, then, I guess I’ll see you around,” you muttered eventually, causing Baekhyun to deflate invisibly. An eager question cut through his mind: and when do you come to run here? I don’t like that you run here alone. 

“Where do you stay? I’ll take you home,” he spoke up casually.

“I live in the dorms, it’s no biggie,” you shrugged just when the group of boys flooded out of the gym, spotting you and Baekhyun. They were noisy once again and immediately took advantage of the situation when they shouted:

“If it isn’t the love birds! We thought you’d be home and fucking her by now but guess who didn’t get their dick wet now?” They laughed in unison, finding their words funny and mocking.

You pulled a disgusted face, though you reddened in embarrassment at their words, and looked up at Baekhyun who was glaring at them again. “Come, I’ll walk you to your dorms,” he muttered so that only you could hear and this time, he took a hold of your hand, his skin soft and a little dry in your sweaty palm. You were shocked at how quickly your hand clasped around his.

Cat calls reached the both of you as the boys approached you. “Woohoo, they are about to do it-“

Baekhyun was fast. Before you realized the warmth of his hand leaving yours, you heard a loud snap, his fist landing with the dude’s face. You squealed, covering your mouth in shock and just like that, Baekhyun had professionally put the lad down, having both his arms locked behind his back. It vastly made you remember when he did a similar move with your brother in his office at the police station, and chills ran down your spine.

Right. Baekhyun first arrested you, and then your brother who was still in jail until now. Baekhyun lied to you to get closer to you. Right. Right, right, right.

“Don’t ever even imagine her in your filthy mind,” Baekhyun’s voice thundered through the space. It kept growing more distant as you realized the hasty steps you were making backwards before you turned around and started speed walking out of the field and towards the dorms. Angry tears blocked out your vision and you quickly tried to rub your eyes, annoyed that you always let your tough stance sway whenever he was around. He dared to be kind to you. He dared to be soft to you. He dared to-

“Nari! Wait!”

Baekhyun was jogging towards you and your breath hitched in your throat, hearing his fast approaching steps. “Nari!”

Sooner than later he caught your wrist and wanted to stop you but you surprised him. You were now far off the field, not a single soul around. Your palm landed on his cheek and Baekhyun’s face snapped to his right side. “I hate you!” You shouted shakily, more tears spilling down your cheeks, the snot out of your nose. You were a mess. “I hate everything you put me through, Byun Baekhyun! You lied to me! Why did you lie to me?! I loved you!” You shouted again, and squeezed your eyes shut.

Baekhyun slowly turned his head back, your slap still stinging on his cheek. His eyes were wide but he knew exactly what was happening. “C’mon. Don’t hold back. Let it out. Hit me again,” he encouraged in a low tone that made you frustrated even more.

You were breathing raggedly and pushed him in the chest, making him stumble backwards. He could have easily fought you, he could easily stand still, not budging under you, but he let you. He knew you needed this to finally let go of your suppressed feelings and, hopefully, of the heavy past he made you go through. “You fucking liar! You fooled me, played with me, made me dream of something beautiful just for you to crash it! You ruined my family! I hate you! I hate you so much! You make me go crazy with hatred!!!”

Another strong push. He was surprised at how strong you actually were; when emotions spoke, people could be either extremely vulnerable or extremely strong. You seemed to be the opposite, for speaking up about your emotions made you scarily strong. “I hate that you made an idiot out of me! You fooled me and I trusted you the whole time! You locked up my brother! You did it in front of my eyes!! As if I didn’t matter shit to you! You were so fast to let me go when you thought I’m the criminal! That was all my worth to you!” you hiccuped, more cries taking over you as the painful memories kept swimming in front of your eyes, making you relive the emotions, the scenes. Those memories were blinding you and Baekhyun just let you open the Pandora box. You were breaking down.

It hit you too, that you never talked about your feelings. You couldn’t talk for a long while after being in shock at the events, and then you became one with ignorance towards your own emotions.

You took a deep breath and pushed him again just for you to lose your strength that was fueled by deep anger. Baekhyun couldn’t even pretend to step back. Your palms were still, pressing against his sturdy chest but you couldn’t make him move anymore. You were crying now, your voice shaking and your eyes still squeezed shut. “What did I do to deserve this… when all I did was love you honestly, purely,” you wailed, your voice sounding almost like a wolf’s howl in the empty streets of the campus. “I was just seventeen…”

Baekhyun was quiet the whole time, emotions of guilt eating him away just like they had been for the past year. His own heart was in pain and he knew how hurt you were but seeing you like this made his heart split into two. You were a complete, utter mess.

You didn’t know how much time passed without any of you speaking. The only thing you grew to realize was that you were in a tight embrace, the arms of your ex-lover protectively around you as his palm was drawing soothing circles into your back. His breathing seemed much more steady compared to yours, his scent filling your senses with comfort and familiarity you had been looking for ever since you met him a year ago. Your nose was on fire from crying, skin harshly clashing with the cold night air, but Baekhyun's presence made everything seem bearable. Even if it was just for a few minutes that you could pretend all was okay.

Squirming a bit, you moved away from him and he was fast to drop his arms, not wanting to upset you more. Your hand came up to wipe the tears and snot away, not caring you probably looked very un-ladylike in front of your eternal crush. “Leave.” You told him and turned around, heading towards the direction of your dorms. Your head was pounding, making you groan gently at the discomfort.

“Nari, wait,” he tried, making a step after you with a reached out hand but you turned your head as you walked, dismissing him with a single glance.

“I don’t want to listen right now.”

><><><><><><

A/N: sorry it took me a while to update. I hope some people were waiting and looking forward to this chapter even though it took me time ❤️ let me know your thoughts please? ^^

[etherealanything]

hi, i was wondering if you could please write an elle greenaway x female reader fic?

hey, i don’t usually write requests (or x reader fic, for that matter), but i realize now that neither of those things were in my intro post! they are now, and you can have this fic as a little thank you for reminding me to add them :)

the moments before (elle greenaway x gn!reader)

rated g // 0.9k words // one-shot

summary: if you knew what the future held, you would make this phone call last forever

a/n: this story takes place right before 1x09: derailed. content warning for descriptions of food.

“Dallas, really?” You tried to keep the disappointment out of your voice, but judging by the sigh Elle let out, you hadn’t been very successful.

“I know,” she said. “But getting to do a solo assessment is a big step up for me. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

You couldn’t see her over the phone, but you’d bet good money she was making those big eyes she knew you could never resist.

“Fine,” you responded, but the hurt was already starting to leach out of your voice. You knew Elle was committed to her job. She had made that clear from day one, and you were more than happy to support her.

Still, she had so little time off, and you had really been hoping to have this weekend to yourselves. You didn’t have anything fancy planned, but you’d been hoping to lie in bed for a while, a rare luxury, and then go for a hike through Shenandoah if the weather was nice. Walking through the beautiful green hills never failed to bring the two of you some semblance of peace. Rain or shine, the day would have finished with a long bubble bath, letting the two of you luxuriate in the feeling of having all the time in the world.

When you’d woken up in the morning and found yourself alone, your heart had sunk. In your experience, cases that began with Elle gone at seven in the morning tended to drag on for days. The faint smell of breakfast drifted into your bedroom, however, giving you hope that she had simply just risen before you.

You made your way from the bedroom to the kitchen, half-expecting Elle to sweep you into an embrace the moment you crossed the threshold. Elle wasn’t there, but on the counter was a plate covered in tinfoil, with a sticky note affixed to the top. You approached the plate, carefully peeling the note off and reading it.

Got called to work early, but I wanted to surprise you anyway <3

Mouth watering, you removed the tinfoil from the plate. Just as you’d hoped, she’d made you a stack of fluffy pancakes, something she knew you loved. You grabbed a fork and took the plate over to the table, sitting down and digging in with gusto. Even with Elle gone, the knowledge that she’d gone out of her way to make one of your favorite foods had made you feel warm inside. 

“Babe, you with me?” You were brought out of your memories of the morning by Elle’s voice, a soft chuckle accompanying it.

“Yeah, sorry. I just miss you.” It was an absurd thing to say when you’d only been separated for a matter of hours, but you felt her absence acutely. Your love for Elle had snuck up on you when you’d least expected it, a casual fling becoming something much more. Now you weren’t sure what you’d do without her.

“I miss you too. I’ll be home by tomorrow, okay?” Tomorrow? Tomorrow was more than okay. Tomorrow was great, much sooner than you’d dared dream. You smiled broadly to yourself and began mentally preparing ways to surprise Elle when she got back.

“I suppose that would be… adequate,” you told her, unable to hide your happiness. She laughed, the sound making you smile reflexively. 

Elle was walking as she talked, a fact that was evident in the way you could hear the background noise on her side of the call increase, likely because she had just entered a crowded area. There was a moment of silence on her end, then some quiet cursing. Knowing Elle, she was probably trying to grab something with both hands while holding her phone down with one shoulder. You shook your head fondly, waiting for her to speak.

“I have to go and get on the train now,” she said eventually. “I love you.” 

The first time she’d said those words, you’d freaked out, thinking it was too soon for that kind of commitment. But the more you’d thought about it, the more you’d realized that you felt the same way. Elle had just had the bravery to say it first. Now it was easy to respond.

“I love you, Elle. Stay safe.” As much as you tried not to worry about her, it couldn’t be helped. Worry was a hazard of having a partner whose job was to deal with killers day in and day out.

It was more than the job, though, if you were being honest. Elle was always a little rash and a little too brave, qualities you thought would get her in trouble one day. You reassured yourself with the knowledge that she had been capable of meeting every challenge set before her so far.

“I guess I can make an effort, if you really want me to,” she said, deftly returning the sass you had given her earlier. With that and a final goodbye, she hung up, leaving you with nothing but your thoughts. You returned reluctantly to your work, counting down the hours until she would return.

You had no way of knowing, but the Elle who returned to you the next day would not be the same one who had left. She’d be a little more distant, more quiet, some of the spark in her dimmed. You’d lightly kiss the bandage above her right eye and hold her hand while she told you what happened, letting her break down in your embrace. Later, you’d fall asleep next to her, relieved she had returned home in one piece but understanding that some fundamental part of her had been irreversibly altered. 

You had no way of knowing, but that phone call would be the last time you ever spoke to the same Elle you had fallen in love with.

[minizode]

memory

pairing: jay / f!reader

wordcount: 3.3k

genre: angst, comfort

warning: breakups, evil management, hurt feelings, enhypen being crazy, jay is kind of an ass in the beginning, female pronouns

+ summary: jay breaks up with his girlfriend of two years. why?

note! hey! this is my first fic on kpop tumblr... i really hope you guys like it. i’m pretty bad at writing angst but i’ve had this idea in my head for such a long time that i really wanted to post it for more people to see! also this is in third person, so pls lmk if you’d prefer second person because i couldn’t decide

“y/n!” Jay called from the door.

Backstage was crowded with people bustling from left to right, preparing for the next performance. Jay stood tall and searched the crowd for the face of his girlfriend.

His saving grace, y/n’s bandmate, saw Jay and caught her attention, motioning her to the door where Jay was. She smiled and quickly maneuvered past the staff members to stand in front of him.

“Hey,” she smiled. “Good job on your performance, by the way, you looked really good up there.” She paused.“But why are you here? I have like… five minutes until I need to be on stage.”

“Thank you.” Jay nodded and pushed his hands into his pockets. “And I know, but Heeseung-Hyung said I needed to tell you this as soon as possible.”

“Okay! Can we just go over there? It’s really hard to hear you,” She motioned for him to follow her to a space behind some boxes of equipment. “Can you help me?” She said with the sweetest smile, and Jay felt his heart crack a little more down the middle. She held out the wires for her mic pack, which he took quickly and turned her around. 

“So, we’ve been dating for a long time,” Jay started as he plugged the wires into the small black box on the waistband of her shorts. “You know, it’s almost our one-thousand days.” 

y/n giggled and nodded.  “Five more days, yeah.”

Jay took a breath and pursed his lips as he pulled her hair to the side, exposing soft skin on the back of her neck. He bit back every urge he had to rest his head there and adjusted her mic before turning her around to face him. “Well, don’t you think it’s been a little too long?”

y/n’s eyebrows furrowed together, surely ruining her makeup and creating creases.  “What are you trying to say?”

“Just… don’t you think it’s time to focus on ourselves? We’re progressing with our lives and-”

y/n’s scoff cut him off. “Just say you’re bored of me, Jay. Just say it.” Her tone had taken a complete shift from what it had sounded like mere seconds ago.

“That’s not what I’m saying, y/n.” He sighed. “I just want you to be happy, I want to be happy too.”

“But I am happy,” she rebutted. 

“Not as happy as you could be. Our relationship is the same routine, nothing new is happening. I mean, I’ve finally debuted… don’t you think it’s about time for us to move on?”

y/n let out a laugh of disbelief. “Is that not what a relationship is supposed to be? We’re supposed to be comfortable… and you didn’t seem to have a problem with that when I debuted.”

“We can’t be together forever, y/n. That’s just not realistic,” Jay muttered and pursed his lips. y/n shook her head.

“And I thought…” she sighed and ran a hand through her freshly curled hair, ruining that too. “Whatever. I don’t have time for this,” she said, turning on her heel and walking toward the entrance of the stage right as the staff called her name. “We’re over, Jay. Have a good life.”

And with that, she walked on stage, a perfectly crafted smile on her face.

Jay got back to his seat just by the time the music started.

“Did you do it?” Sunghoon asked with hesitancy. 

Jay nodded and turned to the stage. Automatically, his eyes flickered towards y/n, as though it was an impulse. To any normal person, she would look fine. Happy, even. Her makeup didn’t look creased and her hair looked fine; she looked beautiful as always. She was smiling when she sang her part, she shone just as brightly as her other members. However, Jay knew her better than anyone; he could see the sadness mixed with anger in her eyes. But she was a professional, and as always, managed to mask her feelings with the factory manufactured expressions on her face.

“Was she mad?” Niki asked from beside Jay. He turned to Niki and shrugged.

“I think so.”

“You should have waited,” Sunoo muttered. “Telling her right before her performance was a dirty move, even for you.”

Jay scoffed, “What is that supposed to mean?”

Just as Sunoo opened his mouth to contradict, Jungwon placed his hands on both of their shoulders. “Stop fighting, guys. You can discuss all you want back at the dorms. Just not in public, people are watching.”

The other members watched Jay roll his eyes and turn his attention back to the performance. 

The song was reaching its end; the climax, y/n’s part. She was singing with passion and fervor, Jay would even go as far to say that she sounded, and looked, better than ever. The tears in her eyes made it all the more powerful. 

And then, just like that, it was over. Her chest heaved as she smiled at the camera. There was an emotion on her face that he couldn’t quite place, but it didn’t matter, because they were over. He would never see her face again.

y/n laid in her bed, watching the dust specks glide through the sunlight, landing upon her bedsheets. There, strewn upon them, was the black sweatshirt of Jay’s that reminded her of all the things she had a day ago. It reminded her of everything she lost over one simple conversation.

Part of her wished she had ignored him at that doorway; she wished she didn’t take him to a quieter area, she wished she didn’t ask him for help with her mic pack, she wished she hadn’t even let him speak. Maybe then, the conversation would’ve been saved for a better day. 

She was confused; why did he break up with her? It was so out of the blue, so random. It hadn’t even occurred in her mind that they would ever break up. y/n had never experienced a break up before. Was it normal to feel this bad?

She knew, upon hearing her friends’ ailments, that it sucked. But y/n had never realized the true meaning of heartbreak until now. But she wasn’t crying… was she supposed to cry? Was she supposed to feel something? Right now, she only felt numb. Like she was a speck of dust floating in the cold winter sunlight and falling onto her bedsheets. 

There was a soft knock on her door. Silence for a second, then another series of knocks, followed by the door opening. Due to the layout of her room, she couldn’t see the door, nor the person coming inside. She thought it was one of her members again, telling her to come to eat or drink some water, to go shower or use the bathroom, or even just get out of bed and change into something else to save her from wallowing in a well of sadness. What she didn’t expect, however, was the gentleness of the leader of Enhypen, one of her closest friends. 

“y/n,” his voice was warm, just like the hesitant hand on her shoulder. “You need to get up.”

Her body turned so she could face him. He looked tired; dark bags under his eyes. His irises were lacking their usual stars, and his lips were pale. What happened to him?

“Are you okay?” were the first words that left her lips from last night. Her throat was dry, it felt like sandpaper. It showed in her voice; the scratchiness of it. 

Jungwon sighed and sat on the edge of her bed. “This isn’t about me, noona. Minju called and told me you haven’t even gotten out of bed since after the show last night.” He brought his face closer to hers with his eyebrows turned down. “Did you even take off your makeup?”

She shook her head. 

He sighed again. For a sixteen-year-old, Jungwon sighed more than a disappointed old man. “Please get out of bed. You’ll die at this rate.”

A hoarse giggle escaped her throat and she ran her hands down her face. “I think that’s a little overdramatic.”

“No, I’m serious! For real… I thought you guys would be able to take care of yourselves. Turns out a kid two years younger than you has to take care of you because you’re both too stupid to do it yourself.”

“Hey!” she sat up in her bed. “That’s rude, Jungwon.”

“You know what’s rude?” Jungwon said. “Ignoring your basic human needs and making the people close to you worried!” Jungwon never raised his voice, let alone at someone who was older than him.  Was he really this worked up? “It’s nearly four P.M, noona. You haven’t eaten anything since last night. At least Jay-Hyung is doing better than you… at least he got up. Even if he’s so upset that he’s been playing games all day, at least he’s taking care of himself.”

y/n’s face twisted to annoyance. “Upset?” she scoffed. “Why in the name of God would he be upset? He’s the one who broke up with me.”

“You don’t think he feels bad?”

Silence engulfed the room. y/n had known Jay for three years, dated him for two. In all that time of knowing him, one thing was for certain; he always tried his best to not show his negative emotions. That was one of the things that tested their relationship almost constantly. He never told her when he was upset because he knew she would feel guilty for it. He never wanted to hurt her, even though it ended up hurting her more by finding out through other people. Even now, they experience the same thing. 

“Then why did he break up with me?” y/n’s voice was small. “We were happy… at least I thought we were. He even planned a big date for our one-thousand days on Monday,” she didn’t realize her voice was shaking until Jungwon pulled her into a hug.

“I think the only way you’ll be able to figure out the answers to everything is if you talk to him yourself. I can comfort you, but you won't be able to get closure unless you talk to him.”

y/n pulled away and shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t think I can get more upset than this so…” she trailed off. “Maybe it’s worth a shot? Besides, I have a lot of stuff to do and I can’t let this plague my mind anymore otherwise I’ll get in trouble with my manager,” she let out a teary laugh. Jungwon giggled with her and nodded his head.

“You can come with me back to the dorm. But only after you get ready and eat some food.”

y/n sat on the grey futon in the boys’ living room. She had been there several times ever since they had moved in, but something was different this time; Jay wasn’t sitting beside her. It felt wrong sitting on the center cushion without the warmth of a body beside her. Well, there were actually two boys sitting beside her trying to cheer her up, but it didn’t feel the same.

“He’ll be back in an hour or so,” Heeseung had told her. “He and Niki went out to get some groceries.”

y/n watched as Sunghoon chased Sunoo around the living room with a spatula that held a fried egg (one that y/n had actually cooked for them when she arrived. Why Sunghoon was chasing Sunoo rather than eating it was beyond her). Jungwon and Jake sat on either side of her, laughing at the ungraceful occurrence before them. Heeseung walked out of the bathroom and into the living room, running face-first into Sunghoon, who splatted the egg all over his shirt. 

Amongst the commotion of y/n grabbing a towel to help Heeseung and Jake getting him a new shirt, the door opened and the two missing boys arrived in the apartment. Upon hearing Jay’s greeting of “We’re home!”, y/n frantically looked around the room for an escape. She resorted to hiding behind Sunghoon and Sunoo, who were bickering about who’s fault it was. 

Too bad that Jay was as sharp as an eagle. He saw her the moment he and Niki walked into the living room. 

The deafening silence that followed raised goosebumps on everyone’s skin. Jay looked over each of his members’ faces before finding the guilty look on Jungwon’s; a dead giveaway. Jay pressed his lips in a tight line before leaving the room, probably going to the kitchen to put away the groceries. 

“Um…” Sunoo turned to y/n. “Maybe you should come back later… he looks like he’s in a bad mood,” he whispered.

“He’s only in a bad mood because Jungwon brought her here.”

“Well they need to talk, it’s not my fault he decided to end things that way.”

“He should’ve been more considerate of her feelings.”

Niki, who had been silent the entire time, walked over to y/n and opened his arms for a hug. It made her smile slightly. The youngest was always somewhat reserved around her. Maybe it was because she was a girl, or maybe it’s just because he didn’t know her as well as he would’ve liked. But he probably caught onto the fact that she wasn’t in a good headspace, and he was a good-hearted kid, so he just wanted to show her he cared. 

“You should just talk to him now,” Niki said lowly. “Jay-Hyung!” he yelled, and all the other members looked at him in shock. “Come here!”

In seconds, Jay appeared in the doorway. The other boys looked around at each other before moving out of the way. 

“We’ll give you guys some space,” Jake said softly before leaving the room. The others followed suit. 

y/n stood in the middle of the room, looking at the patterned socks on her feet. Her large hoodie hung to her mid-thighs, covering the denim shorts she wore underneath. She was never too good at confrontation… it was scary and there were so many factors to consider. But she had to do it this time.

Jay stood in front of her and reached out to grab her hand, running his thumb across her knuckles, something he knew calmed her down in most situations. But right now, it only made her feel worse. Didn’t he hate her?

“What did you wanna talk about?” he said slowly, cautiously.

She breathed in quickly and looked up at him before speaking. “I just… I just need to know why. Why did you want to end things? Two people in love can’t just break up one day, you know? It has to have been some build-up. What was it? What did I do?”

Jay hummed and looked down at their connected hands. “I was going to just continue on the lie I told you back at the show but,” he paused and shook his head, looking back up at her. “I can’t keep lying to you. It kills me too much.”

y/n looked confused. “What does that mean?”

“You know how when I got the chance to be in the show, they didn’t really like the idea of us dating?”

She nodded, a signal for him to continue.

“Well, the company said that now that I’ve debuted, it’s an even bigger problem. It would be fine if you weren’t an idol, but you are. And they don’t like how famous you are compared to us, I guess?” Jay looked torn. y/n’s group was one of the most popular girl groups on the charts. “They think that people will find out about our relationship, and that will bring down our reputation, apparently.”

“Seriously?” y/n pulled her hand from his. “That’s… the stupidest shit I’ve ever heard.”

“I’m not lying, baby. I would never lie to you about this.”

y/n walked backward before sitting on the couch and putting her face in her hands. “It’s not that I don’t believe you, Jay. It’s just… that’s so stupid. Why would they make you break up with me now? Why didn’t they talk about this earlier? And why didn’t you just tell me? I would’ve understood.” She sounded hurt. Understandable, considering the words leaving his mouth. “I, of all people, would understand. I know how important this is to you. Don’t you think I would’ve listened if you just told me the truth?”

“I just thought that if I made up something, it would be easier for you to move on. Because now, you know I never lost feelings for you. I just can’t bring my group down incase anything ever got out to the public.”

y/n’s lips quivered. “So… so that’s it then?” her voice was threatening to crack. Her throat was tight and sore, and it felt like if she made one wrong move she would break. “We’re just going to end things like this?”

“What other choice do we have? I don’t want you to get caught involved with a scandal… That would ruin your career more than it would mine.”

She sniffled. “I just wish that things were different.”

“Hey,” he stepped closer to her. “Please don’t cry. It won’t be fair to both of us.” 

He was right, as he always was. She couldn’t cry; it wouldn’t be fair. Because life was never fair to them. It pushed them to the extremes and they always came back intact, holding each other tightly so they wouldn’t lose the pieces. Like when her grandfather was sick, or when Jay had to move away. When they couldn’t contact each other for months, or when she got injured when he was gone. Life was unfair, but they had to make it through.

Her heart was unsettled, thumping weakly against her chest as she stared up at the boy. His platinum blond hair brushed over his eyes and she moved it away. He gently smiled down at her. 

She wanted to close her eyes and pretend everything that happened was fake; she wanted to wake up from this nightmare of a reality. But she knows she can’t. So her eyes searched his face as she remembered everything they’ve done together; everything he’s made her feel. Her heart was shattering all over again, each piece a memory from her life with him that she would have to move on from. Each piece that she would have to pick up when he left because they were too valuable to be left on the ground. 

But no matter what, y/n would not cry, because it wouldn’t be fair for Jay. 

“Not crying.” she nodded her head. Tears pooled around the corner of her eyes. Jay could see them, and his heart trembled a little. But he has to do this, for both of them. It wasn’t fair, it never would be. They didn’t sign up for this when they signed those contracts. But this is what they needed to do, and upon seeing that she listened and supported him, he didn’t want to make it any harder for her than it already was. 

Jay smiled a teary, broken smile. He sniffled and blinked away the tears beginning to sting at his own eyes. He nodded his head in agreement and reached his hand out to run his fingers through her messy hair. His heart wanted one thing, but his head told him something else. It would be okay for him to be selfish for a spare five seconds, right? It wouldn’t hurt, he guessed. So he leaned down and pressed a soft, sparing kiss on her lips. It was short, but it spoke more than a thousand words.

Please take care of yourself, please stay safe, stay healthy. Thank you for loving me, thank you for letting me love you. His soul tears a little when he pulls away, but he quickly holds himself together. He couldn’t break in front of her. It wouldn’t be fair.

note! ahh okay! that’s it that’s the end!! i actually really dislike this, now that i’ve read it over and over again. i’m not too good at this type of stuff, but maybe i’ll get better in the future. i hope you guys liked it, at least a little, and it wasn’t a waste of your time. @nico-nico-niki​ , since you wanted to be tagged <3

[fromthedeskofelizabeththird]

Habanero

You're a good girl, well behaved.

Absolutely not the type to rail random guys in nightclubs.

Until you are.

Fandom: BNHA

Pairing: Erasermic, Aizawa x Reader, Present Mic x Reader and eventual polyamorous Erasermic x Reader

Rating: Explicit, MINORS BE GONE

Trigger Warnings: This chapter is angsty as fuck and there’s quite a lot of references to death. Aizawa wishes he was dead etc

AO3: Here | Want to support me? I have a Kofi

Chapter: 14/16 (all chapters)

15-ISH YEARS AGO

KREEK

KREEK

Shouta stretched his hand upwards and grabbed onto the fabric, using his legs and fist to get a firm hold before climbing higher. His hands were bandaged and worn, the capture device stained with blood, but he pushed himself harder and faster, grimacing at the friction against his broken skin.

It ended as it always did. He stretched too high and the hand he had used to secure his weight buckled under the strain. He lost his grip and plummeted to the safety mats piled across the floor, the capture device slipping from his hands.

Hizashi winced at the sound of his body hitting the mats. He knew they were designed to break falls, but had used them often enough himself to know how much they still hurt.

Shouta repositioned himself at his original starting position and reached for the fabric, the same determined expression across his face that he always wore, no matter how many times he landed on his face.

KREEK

KREEK

Hizashi watched as he took hold of the fabric and tightened his grip before reaching higher, slower this time, a telltale sign that he had cut his hand again. He sipped his soda, taking in the sweat that layered Shouta’s forehead, the blood on his lips from where he had bitten too hard.

The first few months after Shirakumo’s death had passed slowly: a haze of visits to the guidance counsellor that eventually faded into one. He remembered very few individual details of that time and they assured him it was normal, even if it felt anything but.

He remembered the whisper of rainfall; remembered the way it had soaked his hair. He remembered his mother grabbing his face in her hands and begging him to say something...anything and slowly realising not only was she crying, but he didn’t remember coming home.

After several months of counselling, both after school and during free periods, he had adjusted to a life without Shirakumo in it. A year had passed now and it still hurt, but he no longer had a knee jerk response to his empty desk or the mention of his name. No one handled him gently anymore. They didn’t choose their words carefully as if afraid he might explode.

Shouta was different.

He didn’t go to any of the guidance counsellor’s appointments. He slept through class, he stopped studying. He had the same glassy look in his eyes Hizashi had when he returned home, only the light never really returned. He continued to come to school though committed to none of it, as if it wasn’t real and he wasn’t there, simply passing through a dream.

He had never been a chatty sort of person, but Hizashi felt his silence now more than ever. Any time he brought up Shirakumo it was like he’d poked a bruise, which in many senses he supposed he had.

He didn’t remember when exactly Shouta had started booking out the gym, only that he had been following him there for the past three months. He positioned himself in the doorway, back straight against the frame, finishing up his homework and pretending he wasn’t there.

Shouta didn’t speak about Shirakumo. He didn’t speak about that day. Instead he bled through bandages and skipped meals.

He made it only a quarter of the way up the rope this time, slipping on a part of the fabric that was still slick with blood before toppling back to the mats. He didn’t get up, instead sprawling across the mats as exhaustion finally caught up with him. His chest heaved, his eyes blurred with tears.

“Shit,” he murmured at first, though his voice grew louder as he got to his feet. “ Shit !!”

Hizashi got to his feet when Shouta did, taking a moment to perfect a convincingly wide smile before stepping forwards.

“Say, Sho,” he said, as Shouta wobbled on his feet. “I brought you something!”

Shouta turned to him, gaze drifting from his smile to the bottle of water in his hand.

“Look, I filled it up at the water fountain,” said Hizashi, holding it out. “It’s all nice and cold and refreshing!”

Shouta reached out to accept it with a nod of thanks before downing it in one. Hizashi watched, wringing his hands, pretending he didn’t see the tears in his eyes. It never ended well when he acknowledged them.

“Listen,” he said, “I was talking to some of the girls and we were thinking of going to the movies t-”

“I’ll pass.”

“Are you sure? They’re showing vintage movies! Beast Man vs-”

“I’ll pass. Thanks.”

Shouta passed him the empty bottle and turned back towards the mats, stretching out his arms and legs ahead of the exertion.

“You know…” Hizashi started, willing himself to speak, “the reason we’re going...it’s because it’s been a year...since…”

Shouta froze in place, still in the process of stretching.

Say something, Hizashi willed himself, though if he meant it for himself or Shouta he wasn’t sure.

Say something.

SAY SOMETHING.

“I’ll pass,” said Shouta at last, relaxing his body and walking back to the rope.

Hizashi watched, squeezing the empty water bottle until the plastic began to buckle.

“I, uh,” he said, smile fading, “I’ll get you some more water!”

“Don’t need it.”

He went anyway, closing the door to the gymnasium with a sigh and pressing his back against it. He stared down at the water bottle in his hands, at the condensation coating his fingers and the plastic, before squeezing his eyes shut.

~~~~~~

PRESENT

“We’re going to take a short break now, listeners! Take the time to get yourselves a glass of water and hydrate! It’s good for the skin, ya know?”

He muted his microphone and queued up several tracks before switching on his phone to check his social media. Sometimes his listeners posted questions or sent him interesting articles while he was on air, which made for good talking points when he returned.

He raised an eyebrow when well over a dozen missed calls and voicemails came through in swift succession. He scrolled through them, heart sinking when he realised most of them were from you. Ordinarily he would have been happy to hear from you, but it was difficult under present circumstances.

He wondered if this was it; if you were calling him to announce you and Shouta were finally a couple. He had been on the edge of his seat ever since Nemuri confirmed she had successfully gotten you to go in her stead, waiting for the inevitable.

His finger hovered over your name and his stomach churned. He wondered how you would break the news.

He took a deep breath and opened up the voicemail, preparing himself for the worst.

He had expected for you to be happy and laughing, every word overflowing with joy at this new development in your life. His blood ran cold, though, at the reality.

There wasn’t a shred of happiness in your voice, only desperation. You sounded drunk, as if enunciating every syllable took every ounce of strength you had.

Hizashi...I don’t know when you’ll get this...but something’s happening at the camp. I think it’s the League of Villains...they’re here! They have one of the creatures from USJ. Please, even if you can’t call me back, let the authorities know!

He got up from his chair and loaded up your next voicemail with shaking hands.

Your words were even slower this time.

Hizashi. When you get this, please call me, okay? There are three villains here so far and one of them is Moonfish. The students don’t know. They’re in danger!

He had heard of Moonfish. Everyone had. The details surrounding his arrest were considered too gruesome for public knowledge, so naturally everyone knew them.

He wondered how you could possibly have known Moonfish was present without seeing him; how you could have gotten close to one of the USJ creatures without being seen yourself.

He loaded the third and final voicemail, praying you were about to tell him you were fine, that you had gotten to safety and the pros were dealing with it. He swore he’d forgive you if it turned out to be a prank.

He sank to the floor, though, when you finally began to speak.

Hizashi, I think...I’m dying. Everything’s going dark. When you get this, please, just remember this address. Give it to the police...it’s-

Your phone cut out then and for a second he couldn’t breathe.

“No, no, no,” he said, frantically going through his phone in search of another voicemail, anything from you, any proof you were alive.

You hadn’t called him after that. You had sent him multiple text messages of the same address, though nothing after that final voicemail.

“Pick up, pick up, pick up,” he said, dialling your number and chewing his thumbnail as it began to ring.

Your phone did ring, though no one answered.

It lay forgotten in the corner of an ambulance.

~~~~~

TICK

TOCK

TICK

TOCK

Shouta stared blankly at the clock on the wall, thoughts fuzzy and mouth dry. He couldn’t settle on a singular train of thought, staring into space even as the doctor lifted a pen torch and shone it in his eye.

Due in part to its remote location, the incident in the forest was an even bigger rescue effort than the Hosu attack not long before it. Police and medical teams were called in from all nearby cities, the former spending the night scouring the woods for stragglers and forensic evidence while the latter tended to the wounded. Several interns from Musutafu’s own hospitals were shipped in to join the effort and, while the more experienced doctors tended to the critically wounded, they checked for broken bones and signs of trauma, ran errands and lab tests for their superiors and in some cases even offered up an extra pair of hands during the more complicated procedures.

The moment he arrived at the hospital, Shouta was sent for a onceover by one such doctor, who was dressed in the tell tale embroidered scrubs of Musutafu’s university hospital. He introduced himself briskly before running through a few basic tests on his motor functions and rapid fire questions about his overall health.

Shouta barely remembered getting to the hospital. He couldn’t think of anything other than your bloody lips. Vlad had had to hold him back when the EMTs arrived because he had tried to stop them, convinced beyond reason that they would injure you further. He had a sneaking suspicion that that was why they had assigned such a freakishly tall doctor to give him a onceover.

Someone knocked at the door and the doctor slipped his pen torch back inside of his pocket.

“Come in,” he called out, getting up to reach for his clipboard as Tsukauchi let himself into the room and gave the young doctor a polite bow. Shouta noticed his eyes lit up when he saw the doctor’s name tag, though didn’t question it.

“Good evening,” said Tsukauchi, “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

“It’s fine,” said the doctor, “I’m finished here.”

He turned to Shouta with the telltale stern expression of medics the world over.

“You don’t have any long lasting injuries,” he said, “but it’s crucial you rest.”

Tsukauchi laughed under his breath as the doctor gave him a nod and dismissed himself from the room.

“How are the students?” Shouta asked, thinking of the fear in their eyes.

He had arrived at the hospital long after them, when both the police and pro heroes at the scene agreed to postpone the search for Ragdoll until daybreak. What’s more, due to his own admission and examination, he hadn’t had the chance to properly check in on them, which he bitterly regretted. They needed familiar faces at a time like this, someone in a position of authority who knew what they needed to hear.

They needed you at a time like this.

“(Name),” said Shouta. “Is she…”

The last time he had seen you was when the EMTs bundled you into an air ambulance and no one had been able to give him an update since. Tsukauchi’s face fell at the mention of you and he instantly feared the worst.

“She’s in critical condition,” he said at last, choosing his words carefully. “The last I heard, they were still operating on her. Actually...that’s why I came to speak to you.”

“Oh?”

“I spoke to Vlad,” he said. “He tells me you received a text message from her before…well.”

Shouta stiffened, remembering the multiple messages that had come through the moment he returned to the classroom; messages you had almost certainly typed with bloody fingers.

“I wanted to ask,” said Tsukauchi, “this address...does it have any personal significance to her?”

“She conducted interrogations with you after USJ,” said Shouta. “You’ve seen her quirk in action. Surely you understand its value as intel?”

“I do,” he said, “but…”

He paused, both of them knowing what he meant to say.

People did strange things on the brink of death. Perhaps that address had nothing to do with the attack, but a deeper significance.

“It’s intel,” he said, refusing to accept the alternative. “We’ll be able to ask her tomorrow.”

“Of course, of course,” said Tsukauchi, getting up from his chair and giving him a polite nod. “We’ve postponed taking statements until tomorrow morning. Rest up for now. The doctors will have my head if you don’t.”

Shouta watched him leave, before leaning back against the pillows and closing his eyes.  

TICK

TOCK

TICK

Shouta...I need to talk to you.

TOCK

We’ll be able to ask her tomorrow.

TICK

TOCK

It’s crucial you rest.

At some point, though he didn’t know when, he had convinced himself that you would be awake by sunrise.

In a few hours you would be able to tell them what happened to Ragdoll. You could tell them the significance of the address.

He couldn’t rest until then.

~~~~~

You weren’t awake by sunrise. As a matter of fact, you were still in surgery and blissfully unaware of the chaos erupting around you.

You were asleep when the hospital called not only your next of kin but those of the first year students; you were on the operating table when All Might and Nezu received the news.

You didn’t find out until much later about Bakugo’s kidnapping, nor the true extent of the damage.

You never found out about Nezu’s immediate safety protocol to slow the inevitable hordes of press. While Nemuri and Hizashi had both received missed calls and knew about the incident, they were instructed to continue as if nothing had changed. Nemuri returned to her television interview, a fresh layer of makeup to disguise the fact that she had sobbed in the bathroom ten minutes beforehand. Hizashi greeted his listeners and continued to play tracks, though his happy tone didn’t meet his eyes and he took far fewer chat breaks than normal. Every time the music faded, he listened to your voicemails, wondering if that would be the last time he ever heard your voice.

You had no idea Shouta spent the night wandering the corridors and checking in on his students, calling your number whenever he was alone. He never left a message, just listened to the joy in your voice.

Hello, this is (Name). I’m not around at the moment, please leave a message!

He didn’t want to think about what you had actually said to him before being taken away.

...it’s unfair...unfair...un...fair.

What was unfair?

That the first year students had faced so much danger so soon?

That you had most likely sustained such a serious wound trying to help the investigation?

That your body lay bruised and broken and not-

He thought of body bags and bloodied gravel before he could stop himself; another body at a different time. He dug his nails into his palms, into well worn scars and calluses, and dialled your number again.

~~~~~

It was only a matter of time before journalists caught wind of the blood in the water and flocked to UA for answers. Much like the Hosu incident, Nezu summoned several of the remaining members of the faculty to discuss recent events. Not only was there a lot of ground to cover and decisions to be made, but very little time to do so.

Everyone was restless for different reasons; Nemuri picked at her nails, Hizashi toed the floor with his boot, All Might fidgeted in his seat. The only remotely composed one was Nezu, though every so often his gaze drifted to the newspapers in front of him.

“We’ll hold a press conference tomorrow,” he said, thoughtfully. “After Aizawa and Vlad have given their statements, I’ll brief them on a plan of action. For now it’s important we cooperate with the police and prepare for the worst case scenario.”

“This is my fault,” said All Might. “I should have never come to UA this year.”

“This isn’t the time for blame,” said Nezu. “Right now we must deal with the immediate problems at hand. The students will require not only medical care but a full psychological review before they return to classes next semester… we will have to organise a replacement counsellor.”

Everyone grew tense at that.

“Temporary,” said Hizashi.

“Hm?”

“ Temporary counsellor, not a replacement. We have a perfectly good one already.”

Nezu sighed.

“(Name) suffered heavy blood loss and remains in critical condition,” he said. “You must forgive me for taking into account the worst case scenario. If (Name) survives…”

“She will.”

“... if she survives, it will be at least a month before she returns to her duties. We’ll need a replacement until she is recovered.”

Hizashi shook his head at the mental image alone of your injuries. You should have been there with them, not bleeding out on an operating table.

“Don’t misunderstand my actions,” said Nezu, far more gently than before, “I don’t want to entertain the idea of losing one of our own either. It’s not something I take lightly. I’m wishing for (Name)’s recovery as much as any one of you, but we should not ignore the facts. We cannot allow UA to fall. We cannot allow our society to fall into chaos. Her sacrifice and that of so many others must not be in vain.”

~~~~~~

While Nezu and the other teachers discussed tactics, Shouta and Vlad were at the police station and arguably just as tense. It certainly didn’t help matters that the room Tsukauchi had chosen to take their statements was just as silent and sterile as the hospital, a fact he tried to downplay by offering them strong coffee and a sympathetic ear.

Vlad stole glances at Aizawa as he described the events of the night before, taking in the ever present bags under his eyes. He had gone through not one but three cups of black coffee since their arrival with no sign of slowing down any time soon. Vlad knew all too well that Aizawa was a night owl, but today it stood out to him in ways it never had before.

He remembered the way you had knocked at Aizawa’s bedroom door; your bright blush and panicked expression when he caught you. He remembered your conversation at breakfast the day before- how desperate you had been to talk to him.

There was only one rational explanation for both your behaviour and Aizawa’s own, an explanation that up until recently he had found interesting, though now struck him as tragic.

He wondered how composed he would have been in Aizawa’s position. He didn’t have a lover and couldn’t imagine how it would feel to find one on the brink of death. He wondered what it was you meant to say to Aizawa that day.

As Tsukauchi stepped out of the room to speak to his subordinate, Vlad stared into his own neglected cup of coffee, wanting to break the awkward silence but unsure how to do so. This wasn’t the time for idle chit chat or jokes, but he was tired of talking about the incident.

“I’m sorry,” he said at last, “for back then.”

Seeing you hurt had shaken Aizawa so badly that Vlad had had to hit him in the face to bring him even slightly back to earth. He felt guilty for it, especially as Aizawa was clearly suffering the ill effects of a panic attack, but in that moment he had little choice. You weren’t dead yet but you would be if they didn’t act quickly and he wasn’t capable of giving both of you his undivided attention.

“S’fine,” said Aizawa before downing the remnants of his fourth plastic cup of coffee. “It was the best course of action under the circumstances. I would have done the same.”

Vlad chuckled under his breath, knowing he absolutely would.

Tsukauchi returned to the room a matter of seconds later, clutching a file under his arm and grinning widely. It was as if he had had a new lease of life and Vlad was more than a little intrigued about what had caused it.

“Sorry for keeping you waiting,” he said, as if he had been gone for an hour as opposed to a few minutes. “There’s been a development.”

He sat back down and opened up the file, revealing a typed report and black and white photographs of a shabby building.

“I had my team run a check on the address (Name) sent out,” he said, pushing one of the photographs across the table. “It’s a building in Kamino ward, mostly abandoned. A while ago, one of my team investigated a tip off about suspicious looking people in that area, though ultimately it didn’t amount to much of anything because there was far too much ground to cover. Among the witness statements was a description of a man with a patchwork face.”

Aizawa tensed, realisation sinking in.

“You mean…”

“I think,” said Tsukauchi, “that the patchwork faced man in this report is the same one you encountered at the lodge. The address (Name) sent so many times…”

“It’s their lair,” said Vlad. “It’s got to be.”

Aizawa rubbed his temples, face crumpling with the smallest of smiles.

“What are you planning to do next?” said Vlad. “If this really is the lair of the League of Villains…that’s where we’ll find Katsuki Bakugou.”

“We need to think carefully before we act,” said Tsukauchi. “If we attack too slowly, they’re more likely to shift bases, especially after making such a dramatic move. That said, if we move too quickly and without all of the facts...it could be dangerous for all involved.”

He laughed under his breath and turned to Aizawa.

“You were right,” he said. “This is valuable intel.”

“You can thank her when this is over.”

Tsukauchi smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes. He knew all too well that there was every chance he’d be thanking your gravestone instead of you.

“I will.”

~~~~~

“Nemuri?”

Hizashi turned away from the desk.

“Nemuri? Where did you go?”

Instead of attending the emergency staff meeting, Recovery Girl had gone to the hospital, where her efforts were most needed. She kissed away broken bones and bruises and greeted more than her fair share of distraught parents, as well as scolding any badly injured students she happened to catch out of bed.

She also took the opportunity to update Nezu on the state of the injured, from the ill effects of gas to who was conscious and who would need a little longer to recover. She was the first to know when you were released from surgery; the first to pass on the message that you had been moved to the ICU.

Nemuri, Hizashi and All Might had immediately insisted on visiting the wards, all three overwhelmed with guilt. If All Might or Nemuri had been present, the night might have ended differently.

All Might turned down any offer of a ride to the hospital, instead making a pit stop to catch up with Tsukauchi, leaving Nemuri and Hizashi to arrive without him. It was a decision that paid off in the long run, for nobody recognised the pair in their civilian clothes as they would the Symbol of Peace.

After they showed their hero licenses at the front desk, the receptionist had picked up the phone to call in for someone to escort them to your room and somehow, in the middle of everything, Nemuri had disappeared.

Hizashi wondered if she’d gone to the washroom, only for his heart to sink when he saw her.

She was standing outside of the gift shop, staring into the glassy eyes of simultaneously the tallest and ugliest teddy bear he had ever seen.

Hizashi left the reception desk and walked towards her, eying up the bear.

“Thinking of treating yourself?” he asked, prompting her to sigh and fold her arms.

“I’ve never understood it,” she said.

“Teddy bears?”

“No. Gift shops in hospitals. Who would want a souvenir of something like this?”

“It’s not only bad stuff that happens here.”

“Right now it doesn’t feel that way.”

He wanted to tell her that it wasn’t her fault and no one could have predicted this, but it felt hypocritical.

“I promise,” he said, wrapping an arm over her shoulder, “something good will come out of this. Somehow, in ways we don’t know about yet. In the future we’ll look back on today and...well, maybe not laugh, but smile at least.”

“If that ever happens, I’m buying this bear.”

~~~~~~

Your room was in a secluded area of the hospital, far from the prying eyes of not only the public, but injured students. Nezu had insisted on it, for the scope of your injuries were not public knowledge and certainly not known to the students. They had not seen you taken away in an ambulance, nor had they seen you pinned to a tree. They had been told you suffered injuries, but nothing that would add to the trauma of that night.

Perhaps it was the echo of their footsteps against the floor, combined with the sterile walls and shapeless furniture, but it felt like they were entering forbidden territory.

“In here,” said the nurse, tapping at one of the doors a couple of times before guiding them inside.

Hizashi had tried to prepare himself for the worst. He had listened to your voicemails, imagination twisting and turning. Nothing, though, prepared him for what greeted him on the other side.

You looked small , tubes connecting you to multiple machines and cuts and bruises still visible underneath the oxygen mask. Perhaps the worst part of it all was how peaceful you looked, just the same as you had when you had rested in his arms, dressed in nothing but a t-shirt with his face on. Back then he could think of nothing worse than waking you; he had held himself so still that he had a crick in his neck for days afterwards.

He would have given anything to go back. If he knew then what he knew now, he would have nudged you awake and chatted the night away. He would have offered up that round two, taking you so hard in the bathtub that water spilled out and soaked the tiles. He would have kissed you at your kitchen table instead of saying he didn’t want you as you were.

“You okay?”

Nemuri poked him. He took a deep breath and walked towards the bed, setting himself down in the chair beside you and dragging it closer until he could lean over and rest his head against yours, relishing the warmth of your forehead. You weren’t dead. Not yet.

“What do you think she’d say if it was one of us?” said Nemuri, stepping closer and running her fingertips across the back of your hand. “If the roles were reversed and you, me or Eraser were here instead.”

“Hmmmmmm.”

Hizashi sat up and scratched his chin, thinking back to the sports festival, the sushi bar, Les Papilles . He remembered the night of the Hosu incident; the way you had looped your arms around Shouta’s middle; the way you stood up onto your tiptoes; the words that left your lips.

“I have to go,” he said at last, leaning over to kiss you on the forehead before getting to his feet.

“But we just got here,” said Nemuri, “why w-”

“There’s something I have to do,” he said, hurrying out of the room. “Something I should’ve done a long time ago.”

Nemuri watched him leave, a bewildered expression across her face. She turned back to you, searching for the answers in your sleeping features and ultimately giving up, sinking down into a chair and taking your hand in hers. She stroked your palms and linked her fingers through yours, breathing a heavy sigh at your chipped nail polish.

She reached into her purse and pulled out one of the several bottles she carried everywhere for when she scuffed her own.

“Now then,” she said, unscrewing the lid and stretching out your fingers, “let’s fix you up.”

~~~~~~~

Shouta returned home after leaving the police station, though not out of choice. He wanted to go back to the hospital, but had been advised against doing so, leaving him little choice but to accept the ride.

He understood the logic of it, but spent only about five minutes at home before leaving again. He didn’t go to the hospital, or anywhere the press might be lurking, instead heading for the 24 hour store a couple of blocks from his house. He genuinely did need to stock up on eyedrops, aspirin and cat food. It was a reasonable excuse to be out and about.

He was fine until he got to the counter and happened to notice a display of fresh peaches. Within seconds he remembered Yamanashi- remembered that you had been planning to go.

He came home with two punnets and placed them on his coffee table. He had no intention of eating them, but couldn’t stand the idea of leaving the store without them. In many ways, leaving without them felt like leaving without you.

He laid back on his couch, Sushi taking the chance to curl up on his stomach and purr. Normally this was the perfect recipe for an afternoon nap, but the peaches sat in his peripheral vision and he kept his eyes wide open.

He wasn’t sure how long he stared at the ceiling, only that Sushi darted under the table at the sound of heavy knocking at the front door. Shouta winced at the sudden, sharp pain of paws digging into his ribs, wondering if the presses had figured out where he lived.

Maybe they’d leave if he stayed still enough.

He ran his fingers over his middle and wondered if he’d bruise, breathing a sigh of relief as the person outside stopped knocking. The peace and quiet didn’t last long, though, for a matter of moments later a key turned in the lock. He jumped to his feet just as quickly as Sushi had and stumbled towards the kitchen, pressing his back against the wall as the intruder stepped inside.

“Sho, are you here?”

It was Hizashi, which retrospectively shouldn’t have come as much of a surprise. Shouta only had two keys and had given him the spare so that he could feed Sushi while he was away at camp.

“Sho-”

“I’m here.”

Hizashi clutched a hand to his chest, plainly not expecting him to be standing so close.

“Why are you hiding around the corner?”

“I thought you were a journalist.”

“A journalist who has a key ?”

“You never know,” sighed Shouta, turning back to the couch. “What are you doing here, anyway?”

“I came to check in on you,” said Hizashi.

“You didn’t have to.”

“No, but I wanted to.”

Shouta faced him, willing him to leave. He hated the way he was looking at him, as if he deserved any sort of sympathy or pity. He remembered it from high school, after Shirakumo’s funeral and subsequent obituary. He hadn’t deserved pity then, either.

“Well,” he said, raising his arms, “as you can see, I’m perfectly fine.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“I don’t care if you believe me or not, it’s the truth.”

“Oh, for goodness’ sake, Shouta,” said Hizashi, rubbing his temples, “you can lie to me all you want, but stop lying to yourself.”

“What do y-”

“Don’t you see? We’ve been here before,” said Hizashi. “This is what happened to-“

“Don’t say it.”

Shouta didn’t want to hear Shirakumo’s name. Not now. Not ever. Hizashi refused to back down, though.

“You weren’t fine then and you aren’t fine now,” he said, “and I can’t do this again.”

Hizashi squeezed his hands into fists and braced his body. Shouta watched, more than a little bit curious. This was the first time he had ever seen Hizashi so angry and without even the slightest hint of a smile.

“I should have told you back then,” he said, trembling, “but I didn’t...and you were gone for so long …”

“Gone? You mean when I went underground? Before UA?”

“No...yes,” Hizashi turned away and tangled his fingers in his hair. “No. When you started sleeping through the day...when you didn’t pay attention in class anymore…you were gone and it took years for you to come back.”

“I still sleep during the day,” said Shouta, “I don’t-“

“It’s not your fault,” said Hizashi. “It was never your fault. What happened to Shirakumo...what happened to (Name)...it’s not your fault.”

Shouta remembered the rubble; the sound of Shirakumo’s voice in his ear. If he had moved just a little faster...if he had been just a little more aware of his surroundings...

“You wouldn’t understand,” he said, shaking his head as if to shake away the memory.

“I wouldn’t understand?” Hizashi laughed in disbelief. “My quirk was one of the ones that killed him, Sho! (Name) wouldn’t have been there if it wasn’t for me.”

“Wait... what ?”

As far as he knew, (Name) had been a substitute chaperone. What did any of that have to do with Hizashi?

“What do you mean she was there because of you?”

“Nemuri was completely fine,” said Hizashi, “she dropped out so (Name) would go instead…she did it for me . Nemuri should have been there. (Name) should have been home.”

Shouta froze in place, absorbing this new development.

“I know everything,” breathed Hizashi, stepping closer. “I know that you slept with (Name) before any of us met her. I know that you kept it from us to protect her. I know that you pushed her away because you loved her and she let you do it because she loved you too.”

“I…”

Shouta didn't know what to say; he felt exposed.

“Ask me how I know, Eraser,” said Hizashi, grabbing him by the shirt. “Ask me!”

“Hizashi, you’re being-“

“I know because I did too,” said Hizashi, pulling at the fabric between his fingers. “I slept with her too, on the night of the Hosu incident...I didn’t say anything either, but then I found out about Ego and…” he smiled sadly, “you’d be so good together.”

“That’s not something you get to decide.”

“You’re right, I don’t,” said Hizashi. “But you don't either. Do you think I’m an idiot? Do you think I wouldn’t piece it together? If (Name) was really the girl from Ego ...if you really did care for each other that much...why did she sit there and hit on me ? Could it be that someone had already put the idea in her head ?!”

“Hizash-“

“It’s unfair, Shouta,” said Hizashi, “we’re completely different people, but we both made the same mistake. We both decided we knew better for (Name) and each other without askin’ first.”

Unfair …

Shouta remembered that word crossing your lips and felt sick.

“You shouldn’t punish yourself over this,” said Hizashi, quietly, “don’t offer yourself up as someone else’s scapegoat. If you’re going to blame someone-“

“Why shouldn’t I? You weren’t there. I was,” said Shouta, the words leaving his lips before he could stop them. “I could have saved her.”

“No, you couldn’t have,” said Hizashi. “Even if you kept her with you, there’s no telling what would have happened.”

“Shut up.”

“No, I won’t! I stayed quiet for years. I pretended I didn’t see because I didn’t know what to do. I-“

“Shut...up…”

“I won’t!” Hizashi cried out, so loudly that the furniture began to rattle. “I’ll keep saying it until you believe it. It wasn’t-“

“Shut up.”

“-your-“

“Stop!”

“-fau-“

Hizashi never got the chance to finish, because Shouta shoved him in one last ditch attempt to get out of his grip, leaving both of them tumbling to the floor, Hizashi landing flat on his back and Shouta taking the chance to straddle his waist.

“Shut up,” said Shouta, taking hold of Hizashi’s collar and squeezing his eyes shut. “Shut...up.”

Hizashi lay perfectly still, watching as one tear landed on him and then another.

“It was my fault...my fault...my fault. How can you say we’d be good together? I don’t deserve to look her in the face. She’s a civilian...I’m a pro.”

He didn’t say what he was thinking, what he had been thinking ever since he and Hizashi stood in the rain well over a decade ago, surrounded by ruined buildings and shattered dreams.

It should have been me.

He had been thinking it since he first saw Shirakumo being taken away in a body bag; he’d been thinking it ever since the EMTs took you away.

“You forgot, didn’t you?” said Hizashi. “What she said on the night of the Hosu incident.”

Shouta squinted, thinking back to then.

He remembered watching as you and Hizashi arrived, both smelling of tangerines. He remembered how angry he had been that evening, how he had decided to sneak in an early morning patrol to burn off both the adrenaline and jealousy. He remembered finding you there in floods of tears and embracing both Hizashi and Nemuri. He remembered what came next.

He had turned to leave, only to hear the clack of heels against the pavement. He knew it was you and didn’t bother to flinch when you stood up onto your tiptoes and wrapped your arms around his middle. He remembered peering over his shoulder and into your face, taking in your enormous smile.

Thank you.

What for?

You looked him in the face, determined smile transforming into a gentle one.

Tell me...tonight, with Stain, was there anything more you could have done?

His skin prickled from your quirk, but he didn’t erase it.

No.

He hadn’t expected that to be the answer. He hoped it didn’t show on his face, but it plainly did, for you had giggled and squeezed him harder.

You should be kinder to yourself. No one likes living with a bully.

Shouta stared down at Hizashi, who still hadn’t moved.

“Stop it,” he murmured. He couldn’t stand the idea that you’d forgive him.

“Sho,” said Hizashi, looking down, “if she d-“

“Don’t…”

Hizashi placed his hands over the ones that clutched his collar.

“Shouta,” he said, “she wouldn’t want you to beat yourself up over this. She’d tell you you did your best! The only thing she’d be mad at you for is blaming yourself for something out of your control.”

Shouta couldn’t look at him. He couldn’t stand the way he held onto him; couldn’t stand thinking of him as an anchor.

He couldn’t stand acknowledging he was right.

He had gotten used to bottling his emotions; had accepted his fate of sealing off the cracks. He had resigned himself to squeezing onto them, contorting them and resculpting them to keep them from spilling out, but seeing you had broken the glass and set them free. He felt everything all at once, grief to love to anguish to joy. He couldn’t hold onto any single sensation any more than he could hold water in his hands.

He didn’t want to think about anything; didn’t want to feel anything.

No, that was wrong.

He felt like he was drowning and longed for anything else.

“Sho,” said Hizashi, “say something.”

Shouta’s hands shook. He didn’t know what to say. He never had.

“Say something ,” said Hizashi before falling silent, lips crushed under Shouta’s own.

Hizashi’s lips tasted of tears, though whose Shouta couldn’t say. He wished he could stop time and absorb every detail: the softness of Hizashi’s lips and sweet scent of his hair; the tickle of his moustache; the warmth of his breath as the shock faded and both of them realised what was happening.  

Shouta sat up with a start, heart racing and reality sinking in. Hizashi lay wide eyed on the floor, mouth opening and closing.

“I,” said Shouta, instantly worrying he’d gone too far, “I should-“

He moved to get up but Hizashi grabbed him by the shirt and yanked him back down.

“Oh no you don’t,” he said, lifting his head until his lips met Shouta’s.

Shouta had never kissed another man before; he hadn’t kissed very many people in general. He had expected it to feel wrong somehow, yet it came as naturally to him as breathing. He caught himself wondering why he’d never kissed Hizashi before. It wasn’t as if he’d never thought about it.

“What are we doing?” he murmured.

“Do you want to stop?”

“Fuck no.”

He reached down to slip his hand under Hizashi’s shirt, relishing the gasp he got as he brushed his fingers over exposed skin.  He had always been quietly jealous when Hizashi mentioned sleeping with complete strangers. They never had to worry about what he’d think about them afterwards. Right then, Shouta was too exhausted and emotional to care either and it felt strangely liberating.

“Sho,” said Hizashi as he dragged off his shirt and tossed it aside, “have you ever...with another guy?”

“No. You?”

Shouta shrugged off his own shirt and threw it halfway across the room, narrowly missing the door to the balcony.

He had seen Hizashi naked before. This wasn’t the first time they’d helped one another out of their clothes. It was different now, though. This time around, it wasn’t because one of them was injured. They weren’t in public baths or the locker room. This was new and all consuming and Shouta wanted to lose himself in it.

“Yeah,” sighed Hizashi, “once or twice. Sho-”

“Mmm?”

“How far were you thinking of going?”

Shouta took in his shaky voice and glanced down at him, taking in the tears trailing from his eyes to the carpet.

“Did you not want to?”

“It’s not that,” said Hizashi, flushing scarlet, “it’s just that if you wanted to...y’know...you should probably let me take the lead.”

Shouta nodded and shifted his weight, giving Hizashi room to sit up. He was only too happy to hand over control- beyond kissing he didn’t really know what he was doing. He’d never touched any other dick but his own and under ordinary circumstances would have talked himself out of it by now.

Hizashi ran his hands from Shouta’s shoulders to his chest and pushed him over onto his back, crashing his lips against his as he linked his fingers in Shouta’s belt loops. Shouta yanked at his hair tie in response, relishing the way it cascaded forward and enveloped him in sunlight.

He would never admit to it, but he’d always been a fan of long hair and almost all of it stemmed from Hizashi.

Hizashi dragged away his belt and fiddled with Shouta’s fly, lips never once breaking contact.

“Off with these,” he said, gripping onto Shouta’s waistband and easing off his pants and boxers, eyes widening at the sight of his fully exposed body.

He was covered in leftover bruises from the attack at the lodge, as well as old scars from other incidents, such as the attack on USJ. Normally he didn’t pay them much heed: they were as much a part of him as his arms and legs and other people rarely saw them. Right now, though, they were all he could think about.

“Damn Shouta,” Hizashi chuckled, “I never noticed you were packin’.”

“Shut up,” he said, heat rising in his cheeks and making Hizashi laugh even harder.

They had seen each other naked before but never looked any more than was polite. There was no room for modesty now, yet Shouta’s instinct was still to cover himself up. He moved a hand to cover his dick, though Hizashi caught it before he could, laughing as he coaxed his hand away.

“Seems a little unfair that I’m the only one who’s naked.”

“All in good time.”

Hizashi’s belt jingled as it hit the floor and Shouta watched as he reached for his zipper. He stopped before unfastening his pants and looked up, tilting his head to the side in confusion.

“What is it?”

“You don’t want to undress me?”

“I…”

Shouta both did and didn’t. He wanted to relish this moment and drink in every inch of Hizashi’s naked body...but he wanted to touch it too. His silence proved enough of an answer, though, for Hizashi swiftly grinned.

“So you like to watch, eh? Interesting…”

He loosened his zipper and kicked off his pants, taking care to stretch out each movement as much as possible. Shouta stared unapologetically, taking in the shape of his body and bounce of his hard dick as he dropped his underwear to the floor.

“Like what you see?”

He didn’t know what to say, so nodded instead, watching as Hizashi lowered himself down onto his elbows. Shouta inhaled deeply, taking in the warmth of Hizashi’s body against his, the sweet scent emanating from his hair, the hardness of his dick against his own.

“Say something,” said Hizashi, so softly that Shouta barely heard him.

Everything was going to be different after this and he tangled his fingers in Hizashi’s hair.

“Shut up and kiss me.”

And he did.

He kissed him so hard that at first he couldn’t breathe, only letting up when Shouta grazed his teeth over his bottom lip. Hizashi moaned and Shouta sucked at his throat, hands trailing down Hizashi’s chest and over his nipple, taking care to slow his touches as he crossed over the stud there.

Shouta remembered when he got that nipple piercing. They were still teenagers at the time and Hizashi had gotten into an argument with his mother over it. She let him grow out his hair, she let him wear the most obnoxiously bright glasses he could find, her only condition to letting him stay up until the early hours of the morning working on his radio show was that his grades didn’t suffer and he only did it once a week. The piercing, though, was where she drew the line.

He scoped out pretty much every piercing shop in Musutafu, desperate to find one that wouldn’t ask too many questions, much less demand parental consent.

The one he settled for in the end was more than a little bit seedy and almost certainly at the epicenter of criminal activity. Shirakumo insisted on bringing a camera and perfectly captured the exact moment the piercing gun punctured Hizashi’s body and he regretted everything.

It was as sensitive now as it was then, leaving Hizashi moaning into his open mouth. Hizashi ground his hips against Shouta’s, bare skin colliding with bare skin. Shouta’s mind fell blank at the feel of Hizashi’s hard dick against his own, the sudden stimulation sending shivers down his spine.

He had never felt anything like this before. He ran a hand down Hizashi’s back, gripping onto his bare ass as he thrust his hips against him.

“Shouta,” said Hizashi, “do you trust me?”

It was a weird question and Shouta laid back, taking in his flushed face and tousled hair.

“What kind of question is that?”

“But do you?”

He nodded.

“Okay,” he said, taking hold of both of his hands and laying them on the floor, one on either side of his head. “Put your hands up.”

Shouta watched, bewildered, as he let go and sat up onto his knees, spreading Shouta’s legs and maneuvering himself into the gap.

“What...are you…”

His stomach fluttered, imagination running wild with possibilities.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it,” said Hizashi sheepishly. “Ever since I found out what happened at Ego ...I know what (Name) feels like...I know what she sounds like...but I don’t know that about you .”

He scratched his chin and took a long look at Shouta’s body.

“Sho,” he said, “I want to know what you sound like.”

Shouta recalled his own dreams; the numerous obscene scenarios that had entered his imagination after he realised you and Hizashi had slept together. He and Hizashi couldn’t have been any more different, but when it came to the important things they were the same.

He nodded, taking note of the gleam in Hizashi’s eyes, heart skipping a beat as he spat in his open palm and took hold of both of their cocks.

Hizashi jerked him -both of them- hard and fast, so quickly that Shouta couldn’t keep track of his movements, only the shuddering it sent through his body. The last time he had had sex with another person was with you. Any time he came after that had been purely accidental.

It didn’t take much for him to moan in desperation, for him to dig his fingers into the carpet above his head. He sucked in a deep breath, close to the point of no return, only for Hizashi to stop. Shouta glanced up at him, wondering if he’d done something wrong or Hizashi had changed his mind.

The truth couldn’t have been more infuriating. Hizashi gazed down at him, mischief in his eyes.

“Oh, you,” Shouta said, realising the situation he was in, “you fucker .”

“I mean, if we’re going to be technical,” said Hizashi, pointing down at their hips, “you’re just as guilty as me on that front.”

Shouta lifted his hands, wanting nothing more than to drag Hizashi to the ground.

“Ahhh, no,” said Hizashi, “hands up, remember?”

Shouta cursed under his breath, but obeyed, laying his hands flat against the carpet.

He couldn’t believe he’d fallen for this. He knew Hizashi was into edging. Hizashi was into anything that left his partner a shuddering mess.

After a few more seconds of torture, Hizashi took hold of their dicks again, jerking them slowly this time. He took the time to run his fingers along the underside of Shouta’s cock, along the sensitive spot right underneath the tip and giving it a perfectly timed squeeze. Shouta bucked his hips into his touches, willing him to go faster, but Hizashi did quite the opposite. He slowed down to an infuriatingly slow pace, watching in satisfaction as Shouta’s hands twitched, eager to finish the job.

Truth be told, Shouta really did trust him. That was the only thing keeping him still. He could have kicked him off at any moment, could have escaped his grip without breaking a sweat. He didn’t want to, though. Every second he spent there, moaning and frustrated, he wasn’t thinking about his failures. Right then that was all he needed.

Only when Shouta had gotten used to this new pace did Hizashi go faster, jerking at both of their cocks just as quickly as before, only this time squeezing tighter. Shouta dug his nails into his palms, tracing over the familiar calluses and holding his breath, stomach clenching and body tensing in anticipation of the pleasure to come. Just as before, though, Hizashi slowed down.

“Not long now,” said Hizashi, “just a little more.”

Shouta prepared himself for another round of slow, gentle touches, only to be completely taken off guard. Hizashi jerked them both fast and hard, so hard that it sent Shouta over the edge with only a couple of minutes. His mind fell blank and he called out in pleasure, wriggling in place as he spilled all over Hizashi’s fingers, liquid pleasure seeping from Hizashi’s fist and onto his stomach, all while Hizashi continued to pump. Shouta cried out from overstimulation; Hizashi whined as his own climax came, leaving his own cum to escape his fist and mix with Shouta’s until the pair of them were a sweating mess.

Hizashi let go and gasped for air, covered in a sheen of sweat and the occasional drop of cum on his chest. He looked down at Shouta, who was just as breathless, body still twitching from release.

Shouta barely noticed as Hizashi moved to lie down next to him. He was too far gone to pay attention to anything other than the pleasure rushing through his body.

“You know,” panted Hizashi, “you can’t do that every time you want me to shut up.”

“Why not? Seemed to work.”

Shouta glanced around the room; at their discarded clothes and dirty bodies. He knew it would bother him later, but right then he didn’t care about very much of anything. He looked over his shoulder, taking in Hizashi’s flushed face beside him. The softness was fading from it, back to the one of concern from when he arrived.

“Shall we talk about it?”

Shouta sighed, looking away.

“We really should talk about it,” said Hizashi, reaching for his glasses. “We’ll need to-umph!”

Shouta had reached for one of the peaches on his coffee table. The same one currently stuffed in Hizashi’s mouth.

“Later,” said Shouta, to which Hizashi sighed and sank his teeth into the peach.

They lay there in silence for quite some time, Hizashi making it about halfway through the fruit before Shouta began to speak.

“With my life,” he said.

“Hmm?”

“I trust you with it,” he said, grabbing a peach of his own and taking an enormous bite before he could say anything embarrassing.

Well, he thought as Hizashi squeaked through a mouthful of peach, visibly delighted by the revelation, even more embarrassing.

~~~~~

The rest of the day passed quickly.

Shouta frowned through the bathroom door as a towel-clad Hizashi rifled through his wardrobe in search of a suit for the upcoming media interview.

Visiting hours came to a close and Nemuri planted a kiss to your forehead before returning home.

Tsukauchi stayed awake long into the night, going over strategies and making phone calls.

Nezu lit a cigar and stared into the smoke as it hit the night air, contemplating potential futures and outcomes.

You slept through all of it, completely unaware of the struggles of everyone around you.

Night fell and your room remained untouched by the world outside. You stayed asleep as police guarded the corridors; as media outlets scrambled for answers. You didn’t move as midnight struck and someone climbed through your bedroom window. Someone who, realistically, should have known better.

You stayed still and oblivious as they stood at the foot of your bed, taking in your freshly painted fingernails and tranquil expression.

They came and went from your room like a ghost, whispering an apology in your ear and planting a kiss on your forehead, willing you to remember it.

You didn’t remember it.

When you woke up, in fact, quite some time later, you didn’t remember much of anything. You didn’t know where you were, didn’t know how you’d gotten there.

You were sure of only one thing: that the first thing you saw when you opened your eyes was a punnet of fresh peaches.

[the-silentium]

Trial by Fire

Masterlist - Chapter 1

Fors is an Original planet. I do not give permission to people to use it for their own fics, the planet, the animals, the Nightmares, the lore or anything related to Fors. Thank you.

Pairing: Bad Batch x Reader

Words: 4020 words

Warnings: Blood, gore, monsters (yay).

A/N: Woohoo, action chap! From this point on, the will be blood on almost every chap. Be warned.

Taglist:  @haloangel391​ /  @lightning-wolffe​​ / @cherrydemon5​​ / @and-claudia​​

_____________________

"Something happened." One of the members spoke up, addressing the problem from his position at the end of the long table. "The planet is angry again." 

"Why would they come back now?" Another asked, finger nervously tapping at his tight. 

The man leading the council took a second, to release the armchair from his deadly grip, allowing blood to return to his white fingertips. 

"We all know how it started." He didn't know why they were back, but he certainly knew who was the cause. 

Whispers erupted from the dozen of people sitting at the table, accusations, hateful exclamations, worried questions, they all blended in a cacophony that beat at the leader's growing headache. 

"Enough." He barked, effectively bringing silence back into the closed room. 

"She's back and we need to find her. Send half of our available hunters into the jungle for a retrieval mission. No one is allowed back in until she's here."

"But Arlan," the head of the scouts paused, unsure of his own next words, "she's dead." 

No one dared to breathe, in fear that they may be chosen to venture the darkness away from the village's protection if they dared to make a sound to disturb the stillness of the room. 

"Apparently not." Arlan growled, frustrated that the thorn in his side was back. 

____________________

You took a deep breath in to calm your buzzing nerves, they couldn't control you right now, not when everyone's lives, your family, was in danger. They needed you strong and in control, something you hoped you could be long enough to get the whole group to safety. It was your only chance. You had your instincts, they were sharp and trustworthy so you had to rely on them and not let panic overflow again. 

You exhaled slowly, wiggling your fingers and toes to relax every inch of yourself. You could do it. You were an experienced hunter in these jungles and they were highly trained commandos with a flawless success rate. Let's not forget the fact that they had blasters. You were good with your knife, but it clearly wasn't the best weapon out there. Maybe the odds were in your favor. 

But they were used to droids, not unpredictable monsters that loved to tear beings apart limb by limb. Tonight would be your trial by fire. For all of you. 

"We need to be ready to meet them." You cracked your knuckles unconsciously, already picturing yourself in front of one of your nightmares. 

You acknowledged Hunter's comment with a nod, already walking to the nearest tree to stab it with your knife and insert your loyal tap into the hole.

"We all drink before it's no longer possible. It's gonna be a long night and this is our last chance to do it." You pointed to Wrecker. "You first." 

He obeyed in a beat, trusting your survival skills. You knew you'd need all the energy available and the sugary water would provide you just that. Also, you needed to be as hydrated as possible. 

"Okay." You turned towards the rest of them, all their visors fixated on you. "So, I don't know much about them. There are different species that are common beliefs in my village and other species that are proper to other villages. But they all have in common to eat whatever cross their path and to roam solely at night." 

Wrecker moved away from the tree, wiping his mouth with his wrist to make place for Tech who removed his helmet to drink. 

"This planet is a trap." The grey-haired clone grumbled at your unhelpful lack of information. 

"I know, I've lived here my whole life." You glared at him before concentrating again. "No one in my village ever came back from a night outside, so I don't know for sure what species are around. All I know is that there are Algax roaming around."

You signaled to Cross to take Tech's place. 

"They are taaaall creature, with dark blue-ish skin and really long arms and legs. They are shy," you gesticulated your hands around to find the right word, but couldn't find it so you went with the first word that came to your mind, "things that tend to hide along the trees and grab their prey when they don't look. They don't eat the prey, just crush it to death and let it there for the other things." 

You were losing time fast, the jungle was darkening with each passing minute and you were far from ready. There was too much to cover and so little time. Plus, there was the fact that what you knew wasn't 100% reliable. Beliefs change from people to people, from village to village, who knows what version of the stories these beasts really came from?

"And they're super sneaky and silent. Hunter your turn." You announced a tad too dryly, but no one called you out on it, maybe because they were as on edge as you were, mentally preparing themselves for what was to come as best as they could considering they didn't really know what was to come. 

"I'll do this quick so listen. And Tech, listen really really carefully. Rule number one, if you see a light, something cute, something scary, hear a sound or hear your name being called, you. Do. Not. Follow it." 

"They know our names?" Tech's hands stopped mid-air, his helmet almost back on his head, eyes wide in surprise. 

"The planet hears us talk. Of course they know." You almost rolled your eyes at the stupid question coming from the team's genius. Ears everywhere duuh. 

"Rule number two, don't eat or drink anything from now on. Can't have one of us puke their guts or get poisoned or paralyzed." Out of the corner of your eyes, you clearly saw a shiver shake the sniper's body. Lesson learned. 

"Number three, if I say run, you all run. In the same direction would be best, but if it comes down to it, you run and don't stop. We'll regroup afterward. You have trackers on us, right?" 

"If you keep your comlink on you, yes." You patted your pockets in reflex, hand closing around the small object to confirm its presence and alleviate your concerns. 

"Last rule, if I do this," the index, middle and ring finger of your free-hand closed to let only your thumb and pinky pointing to the ground, "you have to hide, absolutely don't run. Hide. Some of them are guided by movements and you'll only attract them." 

"Hide? But we can blast 'em!" Wrecker's enthusiasm didn't affect you this time around. It was a first. 

" 'm just no sure they'll stop moving if you do. Best to make our way around unnoticed." 

He grumbled his disappointment at having to be silent, it never has been his forte. Plus, he had the added difficulty to hide his imposing stature, so this would be a challenge. Thankfully their armors were almost entirely black, would they have been the usual white with color stripes, it certainly would have been even more difficult to blend in with the vegetation. 

It felt weird giving them orders, like you were totally out of place. And in a sense you were. The newbie wasn't supposed to command the trained soldiers. The newbie followed behind and shut its mouth. 

Well, at least that's what you've always been told and that's what you've always done. It was no use to fight with the other hunters. They were a group of dickheads that deserved hell, but they had more muscles than you. And they were outnumbering. Aaand they were watching each other's back, whereas you were alone without any backup. All that being said, it didn't stop you from making them pay for their hurtful words, harsh treatments, condescending tones and constant bullying, one way or the other. 

For the first time, people let you lead them and it was unsettling. A part of your mind waited for the inevitable low blow to hit you square in the face. You knew the commandos weren't like that, but you couldn't help it. It was a defensive reflex you developed over the years of trying to fit in a world that you were too different to live in. It was totally foreign to be listened to and not berated down, it felt good and terrifying at the same time. 

"Understood?" Your voice softened into an unsure tone, its once imperativeness melted under the weight of your anxiety of being listened to. 

One after the other, they all nodded, gazes full of determination and something else that almost made you sweat. They all showed their trust in you, even Crosshair who you thought didn't like you much, offered you his trust. It meant way too much and stressed you beyond measure. You couldn't let them down and have them killed. Any single one of them. 

Nodding in return, you walked to the tap beside Hunter and forced yourself to swallow the water, pushing down the lump that formed in your throat. You could do it. You could survive the night if you played your cards right. With your knowledge and their excellent combat skills surely you could defend yourselves. Right?

"Blasters ready gentlemen. We have to find a shelter as quickly as possible." You removed the tap from the tree and hid it back into a pocket. 

"A den should be alright or a small cave." 

With one last look at the four of them, you noded to yourself. 

"Good night, good luck." You told them as per habit and hope that the saying would somehow protect you all. Your usual joking self was nowhere to be seen, letting you wear a mask of complete seriousness.

They tensed, apparently getting on the fact that this was an important custom on this planet. 

"Good night, good luck." They repeated, one after the other, causing you to smile tightly at the gesture. 

You took North, continuing away from the ship and into unknown territory. You knew that after a while you'd eventually fall into Forsians hunting territories and then you'd have a better knowledge of the terrain, but those parts of the jungle were still hours away. Hopefully, you'll be able to climb up and make your way back to the ship before getting there. 

"Will you be alright to walk in the dark?" Crosshair's voice erupted from your pocket and you knew this wouldn't work. Each time they'd speak the whole jungle would hear. 

"I'll be fine. Like I said, the best mutate to survive." You winked at the white crosshair on the sniper's helmet. "I can see in the dark. Not full 10/10 on the chart, but enough so I won't ram into a tree."

You fished the comlink out of your pocket and showed it to Tech who was rummaging around in his utility belt pockets.

"Can't have it screaming my position every time someone spea-" 

"I know." He cut you off, presenting you an earpiece.

"This will do." He took your device to connect them together, or so you think. "There. You'll hear us through the earpiece but you still need the comlink to talk." 

He gave you back the electronics and you quickly put the earbud on, comlink returning to your satisfyingly deep pocket. 

"Thanks. We should continue to follow the ravine and hope that we can climb it at some point and return to the ship." 

Agreements resonated in your right ear and you got on your way. It got darker and darker until the only colors you could see were different shades of blue and black. 

The silence around was nerve-wracking, every tree seemed like it would turn around and jump at you at each and every step you took. 

It was nice to quickly fall back in your old habits, feet barely making a sound, eyes recognizing every scratches and marks on the trees let by multiple species marking their territories; Dire bears, Lacergans, Fu-

You almost jumped at the low rumbling whisper right in your ear. Thankfully, your scream stayed in your mind and the only thing jumping was your heartbeat. 

"Movement ahead." You couldn't hear shit, but you trusted Hunter's heightened senses. 

You stopped, the boys getting into their shooting positions at your sides. You could do it. 

"Smell like death." Hunter added with a grunt of displeasure. 

The new information registered like a cold bath, freezing every muscle in your body. The ice-cold bath that just fell over your head paralyzed any transfer of information between the neurons in your brain, leaving you totally helpless for a whole second. Your brain was still out of service when your body just moved on its own, already knowing what to do despite the lack of orders from above. 

The three middle fingers of your free hand closed, letting only your thumb and pinky pointing to the ground, clearly informing the clones of the course of action. Thankfully, all their gazes got attracted by your moving hand, immediately changing the formation. 

Twiggs broke a bit to the right, still far enough for you to dodge behind a tree undetected, soon joined by Tech who as opposed to you, faced the tree. His chest plate pushed on your torso to get closer to the tree, one of his blasters raised right next to your head, the other grazing your upper arm, caging you in a position that would be extremely hot in totally different circumstances and with a totally different clone. 

At the corner of your eyes, you thankfully noticed Wrecker's imposing form hiding as best as he could behind a particularly thick bush, Hunter standing behind a tree next to him, weapon pointed towards the sky above. Crosshair was nowhere to be seen, so you hoped it meant he found a good spot. 

Rustling leaves and moving grass made you freeze completely. No one moved as the footsteps got nearer and nearer. Of course, this was the first creature you'd encounter. Kribats were the worst creature one could run into. 

They were told to feast on human flesh like there was no tomorrow. They were starved, walking the jungle every night in hope of biting down on some stupidly brave human who ventured the night, but these times were rare nowadays. Almost no one got out at night, reinforcing their desperation for human blood.

It was told that they could paralyze you in fear at simply one glance to their wicked red eyes, allowing the beast to pound on its victims and take their life. It wasn't clear how it killed its preys, but all the versions were unanimous, it was a bloodbath. 

Fors really seemed to hate the Bad Batch. 

If it wasn't enough that the most dangerous monster was hot on your asses, Tech's recording light flashed to life, illuminating your position and burning your retina like a mighty beacon. With a fast but careful movement, you reached around his arm encasing your body into the tree to cover the red traitorous light. 

Blinking the tears away, you really hoped your glare got the message perfectly clear to the engineer. Forget about your hobby for one night, you dumbass!

The rustling grass behind Hunter's tree stopped your breathing, all senses focussed on the beast's movements to know if it detected your group or not. 

Tech's eyes visibly widen behind his visor at the ungodly sight of the creature's emaciated body, the skull of a cervid posed atop a male human body rivaling Wrecker's height was disturbing, but not as disturbing as the sight of all the blood covering its dark skin. There was so much blood that it pooled at its feet, leaving behind a river-like path in the grass. 

The low ragged rumble of the monster passed your tree, surprising you that he hadn't bounced on it to grab you from behind. You glanced at its retreating form and oh this is new. Your version of a Kribat didn't have a feathery tail trailing behind. Now, what could this be useful for? They couldn't fly, could they? 

The Kribat wandered deeper into the depth of the jungle, leaving its imprint on everyone's mind as well as on the jungle floor and all your noses and mouths. 

You waited for a little longer, just to be sure that it was far enough to not catch its attention before nodding to Tech. 

"Clear." He whispered through the comm. 

The first breath you took in almost pulled you to your knees. The smell was atrocious, grabbing you at your throat. Decomposition, blood, acids, they all mixed to form a rancid smell that you could almost taste. 

"What in the Nine Corellian Hells is that?" Crosshair stood from behind a dead trunk on the ground to join everyone at the dark trail. 

"Human blood, flesh and organs." The shredded pieces of meat here and there turned your stomach upside down. 

You were used to flesh and blood. Heck. You were a hunter and often butched your meals yourself. But this flesh was human and the state of it only left you to imagine was it must have felt like to be ripped apart. You didn't want to speculate if the victim was alive or not when it happened. 

"Kribats are craving human flesh but they don't have a digestive system. It gets in and gets out, so they're never satiated." 

"So this one just ate?" Wrecker approached behind you. Now faced with what these beasts were capable of, his enthusiasm disappeared somewhere, letting him wary and if only a little bit scared. 

"It looks like it." You fixed the blood, deep in thoughts. Why were there humans out tonight? 

"I thought no one was supposed to be out at night." Tech inquired while disconnecting the red light on his helmet. 

"They're not supposed to be. It means that something's wrong." You sighed. Tonight couldn't get any better. The planet was throwing a tantrum. 

There was nothing you could do about it, so you focussed back on the present. You swallowed to keep yourself from puking as you dropped to your knees before the red river. 

"And what are you doing?" Crosshair asked, not daring to approach the thing himself. 

"Camouflaging my smell of a juicy living being." With shaky hands, you plunged your fingers through the sticky mixture. You gaged at the feeling but covered your sleeves nonetheless. 

"You guys should cover your armor too. Lucky bastards." At least it wouldn't touch their skin. 

"No way." Crosshair groaned as Tech walked over asking "Why?" 

"Because I want us to survive the night." You deadpanned. There was no time to explain the how and why. 

You stopped breathing for a second to cover your torso and pants, cringing at the warm wetness soaking the fabric. You allowed yourself a second to mourn your once perfect clothes that you loved so much. You'd have to burn them after only one day wearing them. 

At your sides the boys reluctantly followed your lead, grunting in disgust every two seconds. 

You decided to forget your face, this would end badly for your stomach. 

Turning around as you wiped your hands on a clean spot on your pants, you noticed Hunter's clean body leaning on a tree for support, head tilted down with a hand over his heart. You didn't need to be a Jedi to feel his distress at the overwhelmingly nauseating smell. 

"You okay?" His visor lifted to meet your eyes at your worry. You controlled yourself and refrained from pulling him in a hug, you'd only make it worse. 

"Yeah." But he sounded far from okay. 

"We have to continue, but if you stay close, we all should be able to hide your smell without rolling you into the stuff." He grunted in agreement. 

Tech, Crosshair and Wrecker joined your sides, covered in the mixture. 

"Okay. We continue." 

Hoping that your sergeant would get used to the smell, you took the lead once more. You didn't know if his mutation would allow his brain to stop registering the smell after a couple of minutes like everyone else. You mentally crossed your fingers for him. 

The trees seemed taller into the dead of night. The occasional moon rays passing through the leaves made the heavy ambiance slightly more bearable. 

You wondered what a night outside looked like on another planet where no monsters crept their way around. Where you could lay down and watch the stars, not through a tiny crack in the rock like you used to in your village and fully admire the high sky, illuminated by a sea of sparkling orbs. You deeply wanted to experience it with your team who would definitely think you stupidly simple. 

But they would understand. After tonight, they would. 

Your progression was steady for a while, every ears and eyes were focussed around to detect any unwanted creature lurking in the shadows. 

Back to his collected usual self, Hunter finally seemed used to the smell plaguing his nose. To add to the good news, you spotted a mature tree, particularly large. At first glance, it looked like it reached the top of the ravine.

Excitement flooded your veins, a hand lifting to stop the group who tensed in alert. 

"I think this one could get us up." You whispered to them, pointing at the tree.

"It definitely could." Tech scanned the tree, the others still watching the surroundings. 

"I'll go check." You broke away from the formation to get to the closest branch. 

"Wait-" A hand caught your upper arm. 

"Hunter, I'm the best climber here. Plus, you guys will make too much sound for a recon with your armor. I'll make it quick." Your determined eyes met his visor, not willing to get back on your position.  

"Be careful." He released you to position his team around the tree. 

You send him a quick salute before pulling yourself up the tree. You kept your knife in one hand and climbed up several branches. The next one was pretty high, too high for you to reach it without jumping. Your knife found its home at the side of your boot and you focussed on your jump. Crouching slightly, you suddenly extended your legs and pushed with considerable force. Both hands grabbed the top of the desired branch before letting your biceps do the rest of the work. 

"Are you okay?" Hunter called through the comm. 

Leaning on the trunk, you reached in your pocket to retrieve the communication device. 

"Yeah, had to jump to continue. Think I'm almost at the top. I'll be down soon." You answered, looking up to the thinning branches where more moonlight pierced the darkness. 

"Copy that." 

Your comm returned to your pocket to free your hands. Up. Up. Up. In the same minute, you made it to the top. The moon was still low, not fully visible above the line of trees obstructing your vision. 

Now, you noticed that the edge of the damn ravine seemed barely close enough for you to jump there. Maybe Wrecker could throw you there. But how would he reach the top? Checking under the edge, the lack of roots keeping the ground stable was highly disappointing. Even if you were to jump all the way there, the chance of the dirt crumbling under your fingers was too high. 

Quickly, you grabbed your comm to let the boys know that you were coming back. 

With a grumble, you started to descend, moving gracefully from branch to branch without making a sound. The gap you jumped looked pretty big from above, causing you to hesitate for the shortest of seconds. The need to get down was more pressing than your unease so you braced yourself and pushed yourself off your perch to the one below. 

You landed perfectly, both feet on the hard surface, hands wrapped around it tightly to not move further. 

For a second, you were perfectly stable. The next you were falling through the air, propelled by the body hitting you full force. Wood painfully came in contact with your shoulders, arms and back, emptying your lungs before a scream could escape your lips.

[toukenramblings]

How To Lose Your Tantous: Gokotai, Shinano Toushirou, Taikogane Sadamune

No collage/artsy thingy this time. This time, you are getting a meme. Warnings: None. I’m funny I swear

The three tantous known as Gokotai, Shinano, and Taikogane have been with you since the beginning. Kiwame or not, these three have stuck by your side since forever and you wanted to thank them for their work. So why not take them to the mall to relax????

The minute you announce that to the trio however, their eyes light up. Sada-chan is already half way out the door and trying to drag you along with him. “Let’s go! What are we waiting for????”

Shinano is a bit more calm but he’s also tugging on your arm, not as hard as Taikogane but enough to be like, “Let’s go! Let’s go! I want to see what’s out there!!!”

Poor Gokotai on the other hand is worried you’ll be torn apart and tries to get them to calm down. Sadly he can’t bring his tiger(s) with him on the day trip but he makes a shy request to hold your hand during the trip. Of course you comply because who the fuck wouldn’t want to hold Gokotai’s hand???????? My baby boi

Of course just as you lot are about to leave, you get accosted by KIkkou, Yagen, Ichigo, Micchan, and Ookurikara.

“If anything happens to my little brother master...well,” Kikkou would say with a smirk, a familiar red rope in his hands. It’s not that he doesn’t trust you or anything. But he turns to Taikogane and begins to lecture him, telling him not to give you a lot of trouble.

“You lot be careful. Do keep an eye on my brothers, general.” Yagen would say with a smile. You know he wouldn’t try to threaten you or anything.

“Come back safely!” Micchan would say, having packed snacks for all of you. “Most of all, enjoy yourselves!”

Ookurikara is the one holding back the tiger(s) from following Gokotai outside of the citadel. It hurts Gokotai to be away from them but if Ookurikara is going to take care of them they are in good hands. He won’t say much, he trusts that the four of you will be alright.

And then you lose Sada-chan the minute you arrive at the mall. Taikogane didn’t mean to disappear on you like that! He saw something shiny in the distance and had to follow it! Shinano was hot on his heels though, so at least you know those two are together.

Gokotai refuses to leave your side, still very much holding on to your hand. He swings your arms a little, flushing and stopping when you notice, then asking if it’s okay. If Taikogane and Shinano are back from their shenanigans, you and the other will hold both hands of Gokotai and gently yeet him forward like you do with lil kids!

At this rate you might as well get kiddie leashes for Taikogane and Shinano since they will immediately run off to do whatever the hell they want.

Taikogane will always be on the look out for clothing, trying to look cool and impressive. “What do you think?! Do you like this on me??? I think Micchan will like this too! Oooh maybe I should bring back some clothing for the rest of them! We all can match!”

Shinano loves it when you spoil him, giving you puppy eyes as he points at something, “Can you buy this for me, pleaseeeee? I’ll be good I promise! And I’ll help you carry your bags too!” and then you cave.

Say goodbye to your bank account.

Gokotai on the other hand is much more subdued, when he sees something that he’s interested in he will lightly tug on your sleeve or arm and shyly question, “M-May I go see what that is?” and point at the thingy, then of course he will run off. He won’t go too far, oh no, he will always look over his shoulder to see if you are watching him/if he can still see you.

If you, the saniwa, are short as hell like the rest of them, be prepared for heart attack o’clock, all day every day. It’s hard to see them within a crowd so you will have to shout for them all the time. Shinano is easy to see due to his red hair, Gokotai is smol as fuck so it causes some issues and Taikogane is...somewhat easy to see? Just find him at the most flashy and cool things in the mall, or whatever the hell catches his eye.

Bless everything if you are tall as fuck though. You can see them over everyone and they can see you! They will never get lost if they can see you over everyone! They’ll immediately run back to you and tackle you into a hug (Gokotai is slightly sobbing at this point but it’s okay, just hug him and don’t you dare let him out of your sight every again)

What kind of stores do these boys like? Well, Taikogane will zoom in on anything that catches his eye. Clothing, trinkets, books, games, shiny things, whatever the hell! You’ll have to follow him everywhere though. He gets distracted by everything and you need to keep him on track. Is that one kid who is suddenly found carrying 60 plushies because you turned your back on him ONCE.

Shinano is slightly more controlled than Taikogane but he will also go find things that catch his eye. He’s more into the clothing stories though, finding little jackets and sweaters his brothers could wear! He will want to spoil the younger ones (you and Shinano have to hide any gift for Gokotai though, he’s right there after all, and you want it be a surprise!) and Shinano loves seeing their eyes light up when they get their gift. Of course he might gave and give his present to Gokotai early. Other than clothing stories, I would say Shinano is into little figures. Animals, historical figures, worldly places, who knows? He likes collecting things a lot.

Gokotai will adore bookstores and pet shops. He’ll find new toys and stuff for his tiger(s) and will love to get them a little collar with a bell on it. He likes bells, he honestly thinks that they are nice. As for bookstores, Gokotai would immediately look for fairy tales and books about animals with happy endings. He adores books and even more so when you or someone else offers to read to him! Hell, he even comes into your office with a book of his choice just for you to read to him!

Lord help you if they have an arcade/gaming corner in the mall. Gokotai doesn’t like all of the loud stuff but is enamored by the plushies. He’ll stick close to you while Taikogane and Shinano are trying to kill each other in lazer tag - wait where did they go? Why are those two suddenly bowling? Get back here!

If you have a cellphone with you, be prepared to take pictures of the little ones every 14 seconds. They’re just...so fucking cute. It makes your heart melt and almost sob.

Someone probably mistakes you as their parent or elder sibling. Just to play around, Taikogane and Shinano will call you by a parental term and maybe you’ll start crying right then and there. Just maybe.

Snacks? Snacks. These boys burn through energy so fucking fast so the snacks that Shokudaikiri gave you guys are gone by the second hour of spending time in the mall. Off to the food court you go! They’re willing to try anything new really!

If you happen to have someone you are romantically interested in (especially if one of Shinano’s elder bros or Sada-chan’s bros/other Dategumi) expect these two will casually slip in (not too) subtle hints. “Oh he’ll love this, I swear! Especially if it’s coming from you!” “Oooo, maybe you should give this to him! You know...for no reason.” Gokotai is at least polite about it. “I-I think that this...would make a great gift for someone!”

Lord help anyone who makes one of the tantous cry. Gokotai tripped over air once back at the citadel and you were ready to fistfight God themself. If someone trips over one of your boys or like sneers at them, you will immediately roll up your sleeves and go to town. All three of them have to hold you back but even then it’s a struggle.

By the time you four get home, the car is full of package to the point Gokotai has to sit on Shinano’s lap and all three of them are dead asleep. You need half of the citadel to help you get these damn gifts out of the car and carry the boys back to their room.

[bellylivesthepoguelife]

meeting. John B x Sarah

Request: hiiiii, #1 I’m in love with youre john b & Sarah stories 🥺 ~ they need more stories!!!   I wanted to submit a request! “Smiling between kisses” is so so sweet, and I know that it’s not on the prompt list~ but I want someone to write about the first moments they meet their baby. 🤎 together.

Word Count: 1.9K

Warning: This bit does include a pretty intense labor scene (due to a super protective John B). As someone who has suffered a stillbirth, I know full well how triggering scenes like these can be. Please just take care of yourselves, and proceed with caution in you are sensitive to this.

Note From Moi: I have been *SO* excited about this request since I got it! I didn’t even plan on it going hand in hand with i need you. but hey, sometimes things just work out! I hope you like it, and let me know what you think! :) Enjoy! 

[photo from: fashion-orasi]

"You're doing so good, Sarah!" The rail on the side of the bed John B is kneeling has been lowered to allow him to be as close as possible to a laboring Sarah. Given all of the fear they had talked through in the past 8 months, and how she was not afraid then to admit how terrified she was, John B couldn't believe her level of calm. There was no trace of fear in her body language at all. She simply was focused. When their doctor had come in 20 minutes ago and told her that it was time to start pushing, John B thought for sure he would need to bring her back from the edge of "totally freaking out". He was floored when she simply said, "Okay."

As the nurses had started preparing the room, they asked if there was anything she needed before they began. He was already next to her, holding her hand, and whispering how proud he was, how strong she was; though he wasn't sure if it was an attempt to give her strength, or to calm his heart rate which was creeping higher and higher. So he was quite surprised when her only request was to lower the side rail, and for John B to be as close as he physically could be. Of course he wasn't complaining at all, and whatever she wanted she would get, but the gesture that ensured he was comfortable as well didn't go unnoticed by him.

Sarah Cameron. In active labor, about to bring their child into the world, and she was still making sure he was taken care of. He'd stopped being amazed by how deep his love ran for her a long time ago. After she told him she was pregnant, he didn't think there was any way that he could love her more when she was giving him the ultimate gift of a child with her, but here he was, in love with her now more than he was then.

They had prepared as much as they were able to for what the labor process would look like. John B didn't hesitate to ask their obstetrician questions at Sarah's appointments, and they had talked extensively about her preferences. Making sure they were both on the same page, and that he would be able to comfort and support her as much as he could was on the top of John B's list. All of that to say: his biggest fear was the amount of pain she would be in. He was absolutely terrified of seeing her in so much agony. They had decided together, that she would get an epidural, and wouldn't shy away from any pain management, should she feel that she needed it. (He was so relieved when they had this particular conversation, because the thought of her telling him that she wanted an all natural birth had caused him more restless nights than he cared to admit.) She had gotten the epidural, and pain medication as she was allowed, resulting in only a few moments where her screwed up face, and whimpering made his heart shatter.

Sarah's slow breath being released from her mouth brought him back to the present. He brought her hand up to his mouth, and pressed gently kisses to the back of her palm. "You're doing so good, Val."

"Are you doing okay, or do you need to take a minute?" The doctor that sat at the end of the bed was looking up at Sarah, trying to gauge how she was fairing.

Sarah's eyes opened and looked to John B. He stared straight back, eyes wide, like a deer caught in headlights before the car careened into it. "I don't know why you're looking at me, I'm not the one in the middle of active labor." He hadn't planned on saying anything, though, if he did, it definitely was meant to have a comedic undertone to lighten the mood. Instead it came out as borderline hysterical.

Sarah let out a small laugh before her face scrunched up in pain, and she turned her face away from him. "Oh, John B, don't make me laugh."

His heart dropped, and he quickly rubbed her arm, and wrapped his left hand around to support her neck to rub at the knots there. "Okay. My bad, my bad. I'm sorry."

"Alright," the doctor interrupted. "Let's wait until the next contraction comes."

Sarah's eyes are closed as she's focusing on breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth.

John B places a quick kiss on her temple. "I love you so much, Sarah. You are doing so good."

She nods, opening her eyes on an exhale. "You're okay?" She knew how nervous he was about not being able to do anything. For her to be able to focus on the task at hand, she knew she needed clarification that he was alright. Especially after his previous statements.

"I am." He kisses her hand again, smiling in an attempt to show her that he genuinely was. (Even though he genuinely wasn't.)  "Stop worrying about me. You kind of have more important things going on at the moment."

She inhales again, and the doctor, who's eyes are trained on the screen, looks to her. "Alright Sarah, you're having a contraction, so after this breath--same thing we've been doing--push for 10."

Sarah nods in understanding on her exhale, and her face becomes a mask of focus. Eyes closed, face free of the wrinkles of pain. John B supports her neck and squeezes her hand as she begins the cycle again.

His eyes flick from Sarah's face to the doctor as she counts, and back again.

"Perfect, Sarah," their doctor reassures, as his beautiful girlfriend relaxes into the bed again. "I can see the head, so we're going to keep going, okay?"

Sarah nods again, and John B brings her head up as the cycle continues on.

"Come on Sarah," the doctor is coaching, and he knows it's getting close because Sarah's forehead wrinkles as the pain intensifies.

She lets out a sob as they reach numbers 9 and 10, and his hands are moving around, trying to find somewhere to touch that will make her pain diminish even the slightest amount. His heart is in his throat as she sobs again, her breathing now heavier and faster. He's panicking. And apparently he's the only one because the doctor is fucking smiling.

"One more push, Sarah. One more and the head is out."

She's nodding as a few tears stream down her face.

"Do you want to watch, Daddy?" The doctor smiles at him and he has no idea how anyone can be so happy while someone else is clearly in distress.

John B doesn't look away from Sarah, but he immediately shakes his head no.

"It's okay, John B." Sarah opens her eyes and flashes a smile at him. She's telling him it's okay if he leaves her side?! Let's go of his hold on her body?! Does she not realize that holding her is the only thing keeping him from a total mental breakdown right now?!

He hides his fear of leaving her and gives a level, "no, no way." with a shake of his head, though his eyes never leave her.

"Okay," the doctor leaves it alone and he's thankful they're back to focusing on Sarah. "One more push Sarah and the head is going to be out, okay?"

"Okay," she whimpers, preparing to push again.

John B places his head against the side of hers as he holds her, and whispers nothing but how he's so proud of her, how much he loves her, and how close she is. "It's almost over, baby, it's almost over." He's holding her so tight, hoping that if he brings her close enough some of her pain will transfer over to him. Alas, that doesn't work. His closed eyes fill with tears as he apologizes to her. "...I'm so sorry, Sarah. I know it hurts. I'm sorry, but it's almost over. You're doing so good. I'm so proud of you..."

They reach the count of 7 when she releases a loud cry, though it sounds as if it's from shock more than pain. Tears come quicker to John B, his hands are stroking her face, and he doesn't even know what he's saying anymore, just praying that it ends soon.

"You're okay," the doctor reassures, "That's it Sarah, here it comes!"

It's a moment later when loud cries fill the room. Sarah jumps slightly as the sound startles her, and John B only instinct is to hold her tight. Both are sobbing from the overwhelming emotion of the moment.

"Sarah," the doctor is calling her name over the cries, trying to get her to focus. "You still need to push, okay, you have to get the shoulders out- one more push and you'll be holding your baby."

And somehow, someway, Sarah is pushing again, giving a small sob at the pain, and all but forgetting it when the weight of their baby is placed on her chest.

There are hands everywhere. Nurses rubbing and suctioning, Sarah's holding and supporting the new, tiny body, and John B's tightly holding hers. He glances at her bare chest to see the person that's half him, and half her before he hears someone announce: "it's a boy!" And then he's hiding his face in her hair as he cries. And he can't stop.

He can hear the smile in her voice through her tears as she talks to their son, welcoming him into the world. And she's calling for him. "John B." She says, the happiness in her voice infectious. "John B, he's here! He's actually here."

He doesn't know how she understands his repeating words of "He's here" with how much his voice cracks, but she does.

"John B." She says his name softer this time, and she's reaching her hand up to hold his head to hers. Once again, she's comforting him.

He turns his head again, this time resting it on her shoulder as he takes a longer look at their son. His face is wrinkled with cries, and John B is struck by how small he is. He blinks away the tears that blur his vision, needing to look at him longer. He turns to kiss the side of Sarah's head, telling her how good she did. He's crying, but he's smiling, too, as they both look at their son that's cradled against Sarah's chest. There's a blanket around him, holding him to her in order to trap in the heat being passed between mother and son.

Sarah looks to the father of her baby, and her smile is so big he thinks it might hurt. "We did it!" She's celebrating like they just bought a house, not like she just brought a baby into the world.

He kisses her lips, and smiles at her. "You did it." He clarifies.

Neither one of them can stop their smiles as they kiss each other again. It's simple, chaste if you will, but there is so much emotion and happiness conveyed between their soft kisses. Their gaze breaks every so often to look at their child, their baby boy, and they can't believe that he's really, truly, here.

"I love you, John B." She whispers to him while they both stare.

He kisses the side of her head again, completely content with holding her in his arms. "I love you, too."