#( i get abandoned and find a friend and future lover )

[azen13]

[Not really sure if this counts as a request but here we go] Who’s your favourite male yandere(s) from genshin? And could you talk about why?

Ah I love this question! Thank you so much for asking. I've been really busy with college lately so I haven't gotten a chance to write recently, but after this week I should be finished with a lot of tests until finals. Just to clear things up, I absolutely accept questions like this! I feel like I haven't really shared a lot about myself as a person so I'm hoping to do more of that in the future.

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CW: Yandere Themes, Spoilers for Wriothesley's Story Quest

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I'd say I have four yanderes who I really like, and then a few who I like but I'm not obsessed with. Those four being Alhaitham, Neuvillette, Wriothesley, and Zhongli. Beyond the fact that I just like them as characters (and I'm gay asf lol) they're the most interesting yanderes to me, in part because of how much power they have in their societies.

Alhaitham is really interesting to me because there's this personal conflict between his values and beliefs and the idea of falling in an obsessive love. Alhaitham is inherently self-centered, not narcissistically so, but to the point where he prioritizes and values his time alone. In doing so though, he's also extremely lonely. I think a lot on how Alhaitham would react to someone who's able to match his sharpened blade of wit with one of their own, how he might exchange parries and blows with that person and find himself needing to understand the nature of their mind. I also think about how he'd react to someone who struggles with taking care of themself, or overworking: how he'd try to get you to stop doing so much and trying to please everyone. If his lover can keep up with his intelligence, he treats the romance like a game of chess, lining up his pieces to topple over the defenses surrounding your heart. His possession of you is slow and methodical, like vines growing on walls, slowly creeping over every inch. If his lover's wisdom is spent in other areas, then he's quick to snatch them up and take them home. While I think he's quick to get you under his control, it's harder for him to make them fall in love and surrender to his calculating embrace.

Neuvillette brings a really interesting element that I like to think about when I'm writing for him: immortality. He's a dragon who's lived for centuries, and that element of the slow passage of time is really fun to both write and think about. I really like to think of Neuvillette as a really, really soft yandere; he's seen humanity at its worst, and doesn't want you, the beautiful thing you are, to be tainted by all of its ugliness. Besides, he just can't help himself, what with his draconic instincts.

Out of the four, Wriothesley is the character I'd say I have the hardest time writing for because it's harder for me to explain why he feels the way he does. The working justification I have is that being betrayed by his adoptive family and living his whole life in Meropide made him incredibly lonely and developed a lot of abandonment issues that remained unearthed for years, as he didn't really make many close friends in Meropide. Then you come along though, and for once, Wriothesley has something good, something he doesn't want to give up. He's definitely one of the hardest yanderes to escape, what with Meropide being a literal prison. I think he definitely takes extra precautions when it comes to you, though, because he's so scared of losing them. Beneath his gruff exterior, there's a heart of gold, a man who only craves your complete affection and attention.

And then there's Zhongli, who was actually the character who got me into writing Yanderes. The thing about Zhongli is that as a yandere, you're practically powerless, unless you're on a similar or higher level of power/divinity to him. Even if you exceed his power, you're still going to have a very difficult time escaping his control. With how long he's lived and how much he's seen, he knows the only way to guarantee your safety is to isolate you from Teyvat entirely. Zhongli has no qualms about doing this, regardless of how much you might protest. Because when you've lost everything but Zhongli, you'll eventually—and inevitably—crumble into his arms. Only then will Zhongli put you back together, shaping you to be his perfect lover. Zhongli's greatest power as a yandere is his patience.

[too-much-tma-stuff]

I Want Better For You (part 3.5)

part 1 | Masterpost | Part 3

Tim sat on the edge of his bed in Titan’s Tower, his mind going like a hamster on a wheel, a mile a minute and getting nowhere. In his hands he held the note left for him by Red Hood! It was a serious security breach that he had gotten in here at all. Obviously Tim knew he was smart, he had been Robin before Tim after all, you couldn’t do that job without being smart as hell and strong as heck. But he had upgraded the security himself when he joined the team, no one should have been able to get into the tower, let alone into his room to leave the note.

At least it wasn’t a bad note? In fact it was… nice, it was a kind offer. They had to know that if he did this he would spy, he wouldn’t even be able to help it because he’d always had a detective's mind, yet still they offered. 

Of course there was always a possibility that it was a trap of some type but Tim really didn’t think it was. Jason had proved he could get into the Tower, if he wanted Tim dead or kidnapped he could have just done it.

He should talk to his team about this, he should talk to Bruce about this, but for the moment he just held the note. Robin had always been his hero, sure it was Dick he’d first recognized because of the Flying Grayson connection, but Jason had been His Robin. Tim had idolized Jason, and been completely devastated when he died. Ya he had become Robin to help Bruce, but it was to memorialize Jason as well.

He knew that Jason wasn’t the same as he’d been before his death, but… while he was dead Tim had gotten used to thinking of him like a brother. A part of him desperately wanted to take this note at face value, to forget all about the violence, and the crimes, and just take the olive branch and bond with his childhood hero. But he was going to be smart about this.

He was going to go, of course he was, but he needed to put safety measures in place and some sort of plan. Though he probably still wasn’t going to tell B about it, he was overprotective and would grill Tim for any bit of information he managed to gleen, and if he wanted any real info he would have to do a long con. Best he could do right now would be to have Superboy listen in, set up a code word, and have Impulse ready for an extraction if needed then… well he’d tell Batman when he needed to.

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It took about a week to talk Superboy into letting him go but it wasn’t exactly hard to set up as minimal of plans as he had, including wearing a hidden wire to record whatever happened. As long as it worked, Tim had heard tech had a habit of messing up around Hyena if he didn’t want them working. 

He didn’t bother thinking of an excuse, he didn’t think he needed one. Wanting to get to know them would be enough, especially if he was going to rely on them for anything in the future. 

So, feeling tense and keeping to the shadows he entered Crime Alley on a slow night with his friends behind him, figuratively speaking. He moved a bit deeper in, grappling up to the roof of a building, feeling a little lost and listless. He did know vaguely where to find these two, but Crime Alley wasn’t a small place, and now that he was in their territory he didn’t know where to go, it’s not like they knew where Hood and Hyena lived, or their base of operations. 

It seemed like he didn’t need to though, because while he was standing on the roof thinking he saw someone coming, leaping from one building to the other with reckless abandon. They weren’t even using a grapple as they free ran and made jumps Tim was pretty sure should have been impossible. Tim knew who it was before they were close enough to see detail because Hood still used a grapple, the only one who acted like that was Hyena.

Sure enough Hood’s lover skidded to a halt across the roof in front of Tim, grinning to the point he could see it a little past the muzzle he wore. He didn’t have any weapons out, not that that meant anything, half the time Hyena forgot to use the clawed brass knuckles he carried and fought with bare hands. Tim was tense, ready to fight or flee but Hyena was not, he seemed relaxed and didn’t approach, keeping his hands visible. 

“Hey there little birdy, what can I do for ya?” Hyena asked, he didn’t have a Gotham accent but it was a little hard to tell where exactly it was from.

“I got Red Hood’s note. I just wanted to talk, introduce myself properly and meet you before I decide to take you up on any of the offers.” Tim said honestly.

“Of course!” Hyena agreed, pulling his phone out of a hidden pocket on the inside of his cropped jacket. “I’ll text Hood, ask him to pick up some food for us and we can have a little rooftop picnic and chat for a bit. How’s that sound?”

“Sounds good,” Tim said, not sure why he was surprised by the offer.

“Any requests? The lifestyle sure builds up an appetite huh? And I certainly hope you’re still growing,” Hyena teased, cackling at Tim’s expression of indignation. Hyena wasn’t that much taller than him!

“Coffee,” He requested, finally relaxing a little.

“Hmm,” Hyena sounded judgmental as he tapped at his phone. “Fine, it’s your bone density that’s at stake not mine.” He pressed send, waited a moment and his phone dinged with a reply. “Great, he’ll be on his way soon, with picking up food he’ll probably be about a half hour,” Hyena said, pocketing his phone again and flopping down, as if the rooftop was a soft bed. “I know it’s probably Hood you really came to see but is there anything I can tell you in the meantime? Let’s stick to small talk though huh? I know how you bats and birds are, but I also know you’re wearing a wire, and I’m not interested in spilling my guts.” 

“Alright, ya that’s fair. Hood mentioned in the note that you know a lot about astronomy?” Tim mentioned, finally sitting down with his legs crossed as well.

“Oh ya, I was totally obsessed with it for most of my life, I wanted to be an astronaut when I was a kid and learned everything I could about space and engineering,” Hyena confirmed casually.

“This is a long way from being an astronaut,” Tim pointed out.

“Ya, well, things don’t always go the way you plan you know? Sometimes you get kidnapped by mad scientists and experimented on to the point you go a little around the bend,” Hyena snickered. Tim wasn’t sure if he was being serious, or self referential, or not.

“Riiight, well, what are your favourite space facts then?” Tim asked, just to pass the time really. Hyena brightened immediately and was happy to start sharing a bunch of random facts. 

It ended up in a back and forth of fun facts, aerospace vs chemistry and both of them could go shot for shot when it came to engineering. Tim realized, a bit belatedly, that Hyena is way smarter than Tim had given him credit for. That was disconcerting but… if they ended up getting alone Tim thought he could have a lot of fun tinkering with him.

“Incoming,” Hood broke into their conversation, warning them before he landed on the roof so he wouldn’t startle them. “Hey there Timmy,” He said as he walked over to crouch next to Danny, handing him a few bags of batburger and a tray of drinks before taking off his helmet. He was wearing a domino underneath it but it wasn’t like Tim didn’t already know his identity. “Got your coffee, I bet if you took off that domino your eye bags would be nearly as dark as the mask. Never enough time to sleep between school, social life, and nightlife.” Jason said, taking the tray of drinks back from Hyena, who promptly started digging through the bag with his now free hands, and handed the coffee cup to Tim.

“If you drop out of school to play hero I will personally kick your ass,” Jason said pointing at Tim warningly. 

“Uhhh,” Tim sounded, shifting a little awkwardly because he couldn’t deny he had already thought about dropping out. He looked down and took a sip of the coffee, which wasn’t great, but hey. “Why do you care?”

“Neither Hyena or I got to finish school because we died before graduation,” Hood said simply, which was a punch in the gut, and new information about Hyena. “I want better for you.” 

Tim didn’t know how to respond to that.

Hyena finished rummaging through the bag with a little yip of delight and started distributing the food, handing Hood a bag and taking a box of chicken wings, a burger, and some fries for himself before handing off the rest to Tim. “Looks like Hood didn’t know what you wanted and bought half the store, whatever you don’t eat I’ll finish,” Hyena joked as Tim took the bag. “Shit I forgot my sauces,” Hyena grumbled, staring at his nuggets with a little pinch between his brows. 

“What sauce are you looking for?” Tim asked, looking through the bag.

“Sweet and sour,” Hyena said brightly and Tim found the sauce and tossed it to Hyena, who hummed happily and took off his mask to eat. He was completely barefaced now and Tim couldn’t help but stare a little just because of how casual he was being about this. “What?” Hyena asked, catching Tim staring. 

“Hey I know he’s cute but he’s taken,” Hood joked, slinging an arm around Hyena’s shoulders who cackled and leaned back against Jason.

“No!” Tim said, cursing his fair skin for showing his blush, not because Hood was right of course, he was just embarrassed! “I mean, that’s not what I was thinking, I’m just surprised you took off your mask,” He told Hyena.

“It’s not like you haven’t seen it before I’m sure. I’m sure you and the bats have already figured out my ‘civilian identity’ or whatever. It’s not like I have anything to protect really, I only have the mask and the outfit because I like the aesthetic.” Hyena said, gesturing down at himself. 

“Fair enough I guess…” Tim said before looking back at Hood. “How did you get into Titan’s Tower?”

“Trade secrets Timmy, I’d rather talk about you. How’s school? You got a girlfriend or boyfriend?” Jason asked with a shit eating grin as Tim sputtered indignantly and then took a big bite of his burger to avoid having to answer such an invasive question! Especially with Superboy definitely listening in.

[jeonstellate]

my future in your eyes

mingyu still holds onto you, even after all this time.

๑彡 kim mingyu x gender neutral!reader

๑彡 divorced!au/ex-husband!au, post-break up!au, exes-to-lovers!au — fluff

๑彡 paragraph format — 1.1K words

masterlist

[gif’s full credit belongs solely to its owner]

๑彡 title is taken from zack tabudlo’s as you are.

๑彡 i’m lowk proud of this ngl bc— it’s fluff, but it took me relatively quick to finish?? usually i get stuck for weeks if the wip’s fluff ><

Kim Mingyu is a man of confidence.

Not that he uses his confidence to swindle strangers, as the dictionary suggests the title means. Rather, he exudes confidence — regardless of what he does.

There is always an air confidence around him. He can be in clothes that don’t fit the event’s theme and he’ll still seem perfectly dressed. He can be barely conversant in another language and he’ll still sound like he knows what he’s saying. He can just be standing there, doing nothing, and he’ll still appear like he’s doing something right.

Some people mistake his confidence for arrogance. Most find it admirable. But, in truth, Mingyu hardly cares.

Especially if his so-called confidence vanishes whenever you are in the vicinity and within his line of sight. Just like now.

He sees you in a table with Seokmin. Your back is towards him but he recognizes you, anyway. Despite the distance, he has no problem witnessing how animatedly you talk with your common friend.

It’s almost like he is back in college: you and Seokmin in one row, him and Minghao a few rows back. He can almost hear Minghao state matter-of-factly, "You’re staring," like he often does back then.

Really, all that’s different is Minghao’s currently preoccupied being the groom to comment on his staring. (There are definitely more things that are different now, but he doesn’t want to even begin thinking about them.)

Seokmin catches his stare. Not soon after, specifically before Mingyu can even look away, he sees him leave the table. Seokmin throws him a familiar meaningful look before disappearing into the dance floor.

Truth be told, Mingyu’s confidence comes naturally. It isn’t something that he purposely channels. It’s just always there . . . unless you are involved. Then, suddenly, he has to painstakingly gather the confidence to be near you.

"Is this seat taken?" He tries his hardest to mask his awestruck look with one of kind politeness as he waits your response.

He almost forgot how to breathe when your eyes lock into his. "You may sit if you wish," you offer him a small, polite smile. "I don’t think he’ll be back anytime soon."

"Thanks." He effortlessly returns your gesture before situating himself on the chair your common friend abandoned. "How are you enjoying the party?"

"Really well, actually. I didn’t expect to recognize a lot of people from college." Your eyes don’t leave his as you answer. He tries not to stare back too intently, to look within your eyes to see something . . . anything. "And you?"

Mingyu waits for a beat, gathering enough confidence to say what he wants to. "Better now that you’re here." With me.

He lets out a barely audible embarrassed laugh. He has half a mind to take it back, but quickly changes his mind when he sees you biting your lower lip — an obvious attempt to stop yourself from laughing.

A ghost of a smile plays on his lips. There’s pride in knowing he’s still able to make you laugh, despite it being your first meeting in literal years.

You look down in a presumable attempt to calm yourself down. He doesn’t take his eyes off of you, though, as he refuses to lose you from his sight. As such, he immediately notices the sudden shift in your expression.

"You’re still wearing it." Mingyu follows your line of sight — and ends up looking at the source of your comment. His hand on the table, specifically the band of gold adorning his ring finger. "Our ring."

Our wedding ring.

You and Mingyu married soon after graduating from college. It had been a blissful marriage, one that filled a home with nothing but love and support.

Your divorce was on the basis of irreconcilable differences. It was a mutual decision, for the interest of your career paths diverging too far. There was never a bad blood.

"Ye— yeah." Mingyu stutters involuntarily. He clears his throat before continuing, "It’s a great conversational piece."

Although the divorce has been finalized years ago, Mingyu still plays the faithful and loving husband role in front of strangers. He uses the ring on his finger to his advantage: may that be to wordlessly signal that he’s already taken or to gain the favor of a potential sponsor.

Likewise, even if he knows the ring might be a disadvantage, he refuses to take it off — nor to purposely hide it from sight. The same way he never tells a stranger that he is no longer tied to someone else.

"Does it work?" You ask in wonder.

"We are conversing now, aren’t we?"

You chuckle, "Touché."

Mingyu wants to tell you that he hasn’t taken the ring off since you slipped it on his finger during your wedding. Not even after your divorce has been finalized all those years ago.

He wants to tell you his ring finger is thinner near his palm because of his adamant refusal to take his wedding ring off once in a while. Not willing to separate from the only physical reminder of your marriage, not even for a second.

He wants to tell you the ring is more than a conversational piece. He wants to tell you it’s his lifeline, something he can’t bear to lose. But he doesn’t.

Instead, Mingyu uses all the confidence he has gathered to ask you a simple question. "Dance with me?"

He offers you the hand adorned by his wedding ring. He tries not to show the uncertainty he feels by masking it behind a smile.

He almost lets out a relieved sigh when you place your hand on top of his. But he stops breathing momentarily when he catches sight of the sole jewelry adorning your hand.

"You’re still wearing it," Mingyu echoes your comment breathlessly. "Our ring."

He snaps his eyes back to your face, just in time to witness your smile widen. "Yeah," you say. "It’s a great talisman to ward off potential suitors."

He leads you to the dance floor, silently marveling at how your hand still fits perfectly with his. "Does it work?"

"It’s very effective," you assure him. "Although I don’t think it works well against ex-husbands."

Another slow song starts playing right when you reach the dance floor. You and Mingyu unconsciously claim your respective hand placements during your first dance — and for any waltz you danced after.

Then, suddenly, it’s like you traveled back in time.

Mingyu pulls you closer, a ghost of a smirk is at the edge of his lips. "I think it works well attracting ex-husbands."

[cepheustarot]

What does fate have in store for you in the near future?

Attention! This reading is for entertainment purposes only. This tarot reading does not give a 100% guarantee that all the described situations will occur or being ultimate truth. You build your own life and destiny and only you know yourself best.

Paid readings

Pick a pile. Choose one or more pictures. Trust your intuition.

Pile 1: Here fate will arrange for you to meet a person. It will be an unexpected meeting for you, since a person will literally appear suddenly out of nowhere but from the first days you will feel a strong connection with them, you will get very close to this person, you will open your soul to them, as they will open theirs to you, in general, emotional and personal conversations will be involved here. By themself the person is calm, perhaps they are not very emotional and in some places can behave as if they do not care but in fact it is not so! Person is very sensitive, prone to empathy, they are a good listener and you can say they generally like to listen more than talk. They may also be well versed in psychology or something similar, may have a lot of experience in terms of relationships between people. And although a person is very sensitive, still relies on logic and common sense, not allowing emotions to take over. In general fate organized this meeting for you to help you succeed in some area (mostly in terms of studies, finances, work) or if you had problems then they will help you solve them. It is also necessary for you to find support in it since now you may be in limbo and feel unstable or you constantly have situations that unsettle you.

Pile 2: As I see it this option could be chosen by those who do not feel very well morally, you feel exhausted or you have been depressed lately, you may feel very tired, burnout, stress and all that sort of thing. You may also miss a lot of privacy, being alone and you may feel a lot of pressure from your family or people around you. Here you might not find the opportunity to relax or generally forget to rest because you were immersed in some kind of activity. So here fate, roughly speaking, will "force you" to take a break, perhaps your plans will be interrupted and you will be forced to spend time with yourself. Perhaps your loved ones will leave for other cities, places or will be too busy to meet you or vice versa you will have to leave for some reason.

Pile 3: Here fate will give you a choice that cannot be abandoned, where there will be no third option and you will have to choose from what you have. In particular this choice is associated with some person dear to you, with whom you have known for a long time, communicate closely and in general you can have a very strong connection. It can be your close friend, your lover, your colleague, your partner with whom you work, etc. In particular here you will have to make a choice to continue communicating with this person or not, since your relationship has reached some kind of dead end and is not developing in any way, you may not feel the same warmth on his part, the same interest and it may seem to you that this person has changed. This choice is a turning point in your life or on your life path but in any case, thanks to this situation, you will be able to gain wisdom, become stronger, more experienced — in any case, all this will only be a plus for you even if it is hard or painful at the beginning, then everything will bear fruit in the end.

Thank you for reading! I will be glad of any feedback 🖤

[eternalmoonlight18]

...Love Won't End (pt. 2 of Maybe this Time)

Akagami no Shanks x afab!Reader

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

synopsis: reunited with him once more, Shanks offers an agreement with you; to stay with him and his crew for a month and once the month was done and you still didn't want to stay, he agreed let go of you forever. but of course, you couldn't help but stay by his side.

cw: sfw, childhood friends to lovers trope! fear of abandonment, fluff and a bit of angst. BASICALLY TWO IDIOTS IN LOVE

a/n: i went on a crazy writer's high and whipped this up in two hours. enjoy! again, this isn't proofread lol

wc: 5.3k

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It’s been a week since you boarded the Red Force against your will.

Technically, the one man you swore you’d never see again kidnapped (saved) you from impending doom. You were not happy about it at all.

Every day you would try to escape by whatever means. From jumping overboard, sneaking away in a getaway boat, to even calling the Marines on the Red-Haired’s crew, all attempts were futile in the end because somehow, the man or one of his crew members managed to find out your plans.

You swear that Shanks could see into the future by the way he managed to intervene with every attempt you made.

And now, he once again thwarted your plans to escape as you found yourself pinned up against the door of Shanks’ room. His one good hand was gripping over your two hands above your head as he cheekily grinned down at you as you helplessly struggled to get out of the compromising position he put you in. The knife that was in your right hand clattered to the floor in front of you as the red-haired man gripped onto your wrist tighter as he realized you were trying to escape from him again.

“Come on (Y/n), really? Trying to stab me while I’m takin’ nap?” he chided.

"Let me off of your fucking ship Red Haired." you scowled. You shot a deadly glare up him but the man simply chuckled at your attempt to threaten him.

"I told you, you're not going anywhere sweets." he teased.

Unhappy with the nickname he used, you sneered and used your right leg to kick him in his crotch. But of course, he shifted his body to his left and avoided your assault on his family jewels.

"I have a proposition for you," he said, ignoring the fact that you just tried to kick his manhood.

"I don't want to hear it," you growled.

"Stay with me for at least a month." he pleaded.

The tension in your body deflated in surprise. "Last time I checked, you left me alone in the rain and told me to get away from you." you lowly said.

"And I'm here now to make up for that stupid mistake I made that day," he whispered as he let go of your wrists.

The scowl that once adorned your face softened to a vulnerable expression. "I don't have time for the past, I have somewhere to be," you lied.

Shanks gently smiled at you. "And somehow I don't believe that. You were being chased by those pirates for three days."

"Wait a minute, how did you know- Hey! Were you following me for three days before you decided to be my knight in shining armour?!" you yelled at him, pointing a finger to his face.

"You caught me." he laughed while holding his hand up in defeat.

Having enough of the conversation you were having with him, you proceeded to walk away. However, you ran into the sturdy chest of your childhood friend as he somehow made his way in front of you.

"Just hear me out (Y/n). Just stay with me for a month. You have nowhere else to be, so why not stay at my ship and my crew? If you decide that you officially want to be a part of my crew after one month, I'd be happy to welcome you. But if not, I'll drop you off wherever you want." he proposed.

You looked up at him with skepticism. "And why do you want me a part of your crew? All of you have monstrous strength compared to me, if anything I'd just be an anchor." you reasoned out.

Shanks places his hand on your shoulder. "You doubt yourself too much. We were both in Captain Roger's crew remember? You're a great fighter." he reassured you.

The redhead observed your face. It had an unreadable expression, but your eyes told him that you were unsure and a bit fearful of his sudden reappearance in your life.

"Tell me Red-Haired, why did you suddenly decide to reappear in my life fifteen years later?" you asked him.

The atmosphere of the ship suddenly became thick with tension. A pregnant silence overtook as Shanks tried to find the answer to your questions. Then, his eyes softened as he bore his eyes at you once more.

"Remember that promise we made that night when we watched the shooting stars together? I decided it was time that I kept that promise," he admitted.

As much as you wanted to hate Shanks and to hold onto that grudge you had when he left you, you couldn't help but give in to his words. You genuinely missed him after fifteen years of no contact. He sounded so sincere, vulnerable and honest, which is a rare sight to behold, especially since he was one of the most feared pirates on the seas.

You sighed. "I guess it wouldn't hurt to be under a powerful and infamous crew like yours. It would give me some sort of immunity. You got yourself a deal, I'll stay with you for a month, but after that month is over, drop me off at Loguetown." you declared.

A large smile broke out on Shanks' face. "You mean it?" he asked with excitement.

"Don't make me regret my decision Red-Haired." you joked.

Unable to contain his happiness, he engulfed you in a hug.

"I'm so glad that you're back in my life." he sighed. As he pulled away from the hug, he noticed a light blush appeared on your cheeks.

"Whatever," you muttered as you scratched your cheek.

"Also, you haven't said my name at all this entire time." he pointed out.

"It's because you don't deserve to hear your name come out of my mouth." you scoffed as you folded your arms.

The grown man in front of you pouted. "Awww, come on! I thought we were friends again!" he whined.

You snickered as you started to walk past him. "You just might earn that right if you make it up to me before I leave Red-Haired." you teased as you started to walk away.

Shanks chuckled. As he turned around to watch your form walk up to the deck, he sighed dreamily.

"I won't let you go this time (Y/n), I'll make sure of it." he confided as he started to follow you.

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The first week since you made your agreement with Shanks, you managed to make your place within the Red Hair Pirates. Everybody knew that you and Shanks were childhood friends, and with that knowledge, they constantly bombarded you with questions about what their captain was like in his youth.

This night, it was no different. The crew docked at a remote island and partied well into the night. As most of the crew were passed out drunk or asleep at the sandy beaches of the island, Benn Beckham, Yassop, Lucky Roux, Limejuice and Hongo were sitting around the campfire with you. You were telling them the story of when you and Shanks pranked Silvers Rayleigh as kids.

"I'm telling you! Captain Roger had to hold back Rayleigh from throwing Red-Haired and me overboard once he found we stuffed his gun with paper!" you giggled as you took a swig of beer from the bottle. The men hollered in laughter.

"Cap't was sure a mischievous one as a young'n!" Lucky Roux laughed as he proceeded to take another bite from his stick of meat.

"He never changed, he is still the same immature man." Benn sighed as he also took another swig of beer.

The laughter died down as the fire crackled its flames into the clear night.

"Say (Y/n)," Hongo began, "You were so hostile towards the captain last week. I'm pretty sure that childhood friends don't try to kill each other."

"More like she tried to kill him," Yasopp muttered.

"Did captain do something to offend you?" Limejuice asked you.

The men were met with silence as you stared at the bottle in your hand. For a minute the only things that could be heard were the quiet crackling of the campfire and the crickets singing through the night air.

"It was the day Captain Roger was executed. Emotions were high, the crew was separated and-" You paused to take a big gulp of beer then continued, "He just left me. We promised that we wouldn't abandon each other, but that day, for the first time in my life, I was all alone." you confessed to the senior officers of the crew.

Another uncomfortable silence filled the air as the heaviness of your confession weighed upon the men who were listening. Quiet shuffling could be heard as the silence continued to prolong.

"He can be an asshole at times," Benn sighed, finally breaking the silence. "But I'm sure he had his reasons for doing that."

"But that's unacceptable! Leaving her like that!" Yassop exclaimed.

Lucky Roux let out a laugh, "What the fuck do you know about that?! You literally left your wife and kid!"

"Do NOT go there ya big jug of lard!" the sharpshooter snapped back.

The bizarre argument made you laugh. "Guys it's okay! I'm okay now. I guess you're right Benn. Maybe he did have his reasons. But it doesn't excuse his behaviour towards me. However, I will give him a chance to make it up to me." you smiled as you swished the golden liquid in the bottle.

"I feel that Captain isn't just going to make it up to you (Y/n), isn't that right Limejuice?" Hongo nudged his crewmate.

"Yeah, I think Captain has some sort of feelings towards ya!" Limejuice piqued up.

The men started to hoot and whistle. You scoffed, taking a deep gulp of the liquor. "Y'all are idiots, Red-Hair and I are just friends that's all."

"Sure, but I ain't never seen the Captain stalk a woman for three days." Yasopp teased.

"And he stares at you all the time." Lucky Roux added on.

"Alright ya meatheads, stop pressin' the lass' buttons." Benn chided the men. "I'm sure Shanks was just glad to have you back."

"Yeah,"  you said, giving a soft smile to the second mate.

Somehow, the idea of Shanks harbouring feelings towards you didn't bother you at all. You recalled the time when the two of you were ten years old and he gave you a daisy during the Day of Love. The two of you were young, not knowing what romantic love was, but somehow the red-haired boy made your heart flutter for the first time that day. Now that you were all grown up, that feeling never went away, even after all that happened between you and him.

Your train of thought was suddenly disrupted as you felt a hand on your back. Jumping up in surprise, you swung the empty bottle in your hand as it connected to a bed of red hair.

"Woah! I thought we agreed that you weren't going to kill me?" A deep voice shouted in surprise. You turn your head to see that you smashed the beer bottle on top of Shanks' head.

"You idiot! Don't sneak up behind me like that!" you exclaimed as you shoved him away.

Everyone started to laugh while the captain made his way into the campfire circle and sat between you and Benn. "I heard that you were all talking about me!" Shanks spoke.

"(Y/n) was just telling us stories about when you were a young'n on Roger's crew!" Yasopp said back.

"I hope you didn't tell any embarrassing stories about me sweets, I have a reputation to uphold here," Shanks said to you with a light grin.

"Well, I did tell them about the time when you stuffed Rayleigh's gun with paper." you whistled.

"Dahahaha!" he laughed as he put his right arm around you.

The men watched in amusement as you and Shanks continued to tease one another. They started speaking amongst themselves, placing bets on whether their captain was going to confess before the one-month agreement ended. The laughter started to fill the air once more as you gradually warmed up to the red-haired captain once more.

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

As the second week with Shanks' crew rolled in, you found yourself working alongside with Hongo, assisting him in the infirmary. Your skills as a former apprentice of Crocus, the doctor of the Roger Pirates, shone through as you helped the sick and injured crew members. While you expected the less powerful members to visit the infirmary often, you were puzzled about why Shanks was making his way to you for the third day in a row.

"Hi doc, I'm injured again." he greeted you as he sat himself down on the infirmary bed.

"Red-Haired. What's your excuse again?" you said as you stood in front of him, with hands on your hips.

The man pointed at the scar on his eye. "It's throbbing again," he complained. A small grin appeared on his lips as he watched you roll your eyes.

"You said that yesterday, and the day before you dolt. At this point, I'm convinced you're just making up excuses to see me." you sighed as you proceeded to put some healing cream on his scar.

"Mmmm, you got me there sweets," Shanks confessed to you. He continued to hum as he watched your fingers smear medicinal cream around his eyes.

His warm brown eyes followed your face and hand as you worked. As your hands lightly touched his face once more, he felt his heart pick up in speed. You moved your face closer to his, not noticing that the man in front of you was intently looking into your eyes. Shanks' breath started to hitch as he observed your face, wanting to grab it and kiss you senselessly, but he held himself back, not wanting to scare you away from him.

After a few seconds, you noticed that you were close to Shanks' face, and suddenly drew away from him. You felt your cheeks heat up while you turned away to place the medicinal cream back in the drawers. The red-haired man chuckled, seeing that you were flustered.

"Can't handle a handsome face?" he teased you in a sing-songlike voice.

Not turning around, you stuck your middle finger up with your left hand. Shanks simply chuckled.

"Don't try your luck Red-Haired. Your flirty attitude might work with other men and ladies, but not me." you shot at him as you finally turned around to face your friend once more.

"And what makes you think that I flirt a lot?" he questioned.

"I know you very well and your attitude never changed since you were a youth smartass," you replied, patting his right cheek with playfulness. But as you were drawing your hand away, Shanks held your left hand against his cheek.

"Mmmm, I guess you're right (Y/n). Nothing about me changed, especially how I feel." he drawled as he leaned against your hand.

The infirmary suddenly felt unbearingly hot. You felt yourself heat up even more. Your feet were frozen in place, and as much as you wanted to move, you found yourself stuck in place as Shanks affectionately held your hand in place. You desperately wanted to speak out, but no voice came out of your mouth. The room became so hot that you felt you were going to pass out from shock until you heard the infirmary door slam open.

You and Shanks turn your heads to see Hongo at the door, blankly staring at the two of you. You rapidly pulled your hand away as soon as you felt the grip on your hand loosening, rushed past Hongo and quickly left the room. You leaned up against the wall next to the infirmary door and took a deep breath.

"Hongo! What brings you here?" the red-haired captain exclaimed, completely brushing off the scenario he was caught in.

The ship's doctor warily squinted at Shanks. "What the hell were you and (Y/n) doing in my infirmary?" he groaned as he went to grab some supplies from the drawer.

"Well, you saw us having a moment until you rudely interrupted us," he spoke as he hopped off the bed.

"Ugh, don't bring that yucky romance shit into my infirmary captain." Hongo moaned in disgust. The captain let out a cackle as he made his way out of the infirmary. The doctor followed suit and nodded his head at you to follow him.

As you meekly followed Hongo out, you looked back and saw Shanks smirking at you. You quickly whipped your head away and bowed down in embarrassment as you continued to walk away.

Gripping onto your chest, you felt your heart pound. You wished the next three weeks would go by faster so you could leave the wretched ship.

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

On the third week of the agreement, you found yourself drunk and laying back first on Red Force's deck. Shanks decided to throw another party because Dracule Mihawk decided to come on board for the night. Of course, you had too much to drink and now you were drifting off to sleep on the floor next to Lucky Roux until you felt heavy boots make their way toward you. Slightly lifting your head, you look up to see Hawkeyes gazing down at you.

"Heyyyyyy Mihawk." you slurred as you dropped your head down back to the floor.

"(Y/n). I reckon you need a hand up?" he coolly responded. You nodded in response.

A right hand stuck up to your face and you grabbed it with your left hand as you hoisted yourself up. Once you were on your feet, you lost your balance and stumbled forward until you felt someone catch you. Raising your head, you bore your eyes on golden yellow ones. You soundlessly stabilized your footing and smiled at your saviour.

"Thank youuuu for catching me Hawkeyes. You're always a gentleman to the ladiesss." you giggled.

The swordsman sighed. "You are anything but ladylike right now (Y/n).

You wagged your index finger up to his face. "Alas, you caught me before I fell." you tutted. "Now, follow me!" Grabbing onto his sleeve, you dragged the helpless swordsman to the railing of the ship and threw yourself over. You almost fell towards the sea but Mihawk grabbed onto your shoulder and pulled you back.

"Are you always this careless when you're drunk?" he questioned as he glanced down at your drunken form hanging on the ledge.

"Only sometimes." you faintly responded with your head still hanging down the ledge. The gravity forced you to wretch and you threw up into the sea. Once you let the contents out of your system, you hoisted yourself back up and leaned against the railing. Turning your head to your left, your eyes bore into Mihawk's once more. You knew of the swordsman, but you never held a full conversation with him, until now.

"So why are you staying with Shanks and his crew?" he asked, breaking the silence. "You haven't seen him in fifteen years and now suddenly I hear that you've been staying with him for almost a month."

"Well," you started, "We're friends again!" you announced loudly. Your voice was loud, but not loud enough as the passed-out crew continued to snore away.

"Is that so? Interesting. So your grudge against him is gone I assume?" he smoothly asked as his eyes looked out to the sea in front of him.

"How did you know about my grudge?" you jabbered.

"Your red-haired friend told me everything a while ago. He's awfully chattery when he's drunk." the swordsman responded.

Your hands slapped against the railing of the ship with annoyance. "That stupid man can't keep his mouth shut at all," you whined.

Mihawk turned his head back to you. "I'm curious about your relationship with Shanks, what is he to you?" he inquired.

"Well aren't you a nosey bird," you remarked. "But if you must know, Red-Haired is my childhood friend. He's trying to suck up to me so that I don't leave him anymore and to be honest, it's working too well."

"Interesting. What else?" Mihawk asked as he placed his hand on his chin.

You sat down with your back against the rail as you continued to speak. "I missed him a lot, so I was really happy when he proposed for me to stay aboard for a month. He said I could stay forever if I wanted to, but I don't know if I can," you explained. The swordsman remained silent and you took it as a sign to continue.

"He doesn't know this, but I always harboured a place for him in my heart. He broke it the day he abandoned me and now that he showed up out of nowhere fifteen years later kind of scares me. I want to stay, but what if he leaves again? I can't handle going through that pain anymore." you choked.

Mihawk simply hummed. "Well, that is quite the dilemma."

"Indeed it is." you agreed. Your mouth opened to continue, but you slumped over, falling asleep from the liquor. But before your head could hit the ground, Shanks suddenly appeared next to you and lightly held the side of your head. The red-haired captain proceeded to carry you up bridal style as he faced the guest of his ship.

"I was wondering where you went. I see you've been getting friendly with her." Shanks quipped, his tone slightly laced with contempt.

Mihawk glanced at Shanks with amusement dancing in his golden eyes. "I was simply making conversation. You piqued my interest in her since our last conversation. No need to get hostile over her. I am simply interested in how this interesting woman has such an influence on you." he coolly said.

Shanks chuckled and held your sleeping body closer to him. He looked down at your sleeping form with affectionate eyes. "I heard everything she said, and I gotta thank you. My resolve is now solid with knowing how she feels about me." he sighed.

Hawkeyes raised his eyebrows at his friend. "She's still afraid you know. After all, abandonment is not an easy thing to get over with."

Shanks deeply sighed. "I know. I realized that I was foolish to leave her like that. I guess the realization that the pirate's life is dangerous hit me when Captain Roger was executed, and I was afraid of (Y/n) going through the same fate. Now I know that I should've just kept my promise to her."

Mihawk started to walk down the ship and hopped onto his small coffin boat. "Well, you better make the right choice now. I look forward to hearing how this ends," he said.

The redhead glanced down at his friend sailing away from the Red Force. After watching the boat sail away for a few minutes, he proceeded to make his way into the ship, with you in his arms. He had made up his mind; he would finally let you know how he felt before you left.

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

It was the day before you were going to be dropped off at Loguetown, and Shanks has been avoiding you all week. You were annoyed and a little sad since you thought you rekindled your relationship with him. He brought himself closer to you the day after the party with Mihawk, and you let him as your heart slowly opened up to him once more. Your fear of losing Shanks again started to fade away, but the anxiety started to come back. You told yourself that it was just like you wanted in the first place, and by tomorrow, you would be off on your own once again, just like Shanks promised. But the small voice in the back of your head kept nudging you to stay.

It was now nighttime at the Grand Line, and it was a windy, but calm night. The sky was clear and littered with stars, and the sea gently swayed with the breeze. You were perched up at the crow's nest as sleep hadn't hit you yet. With your back leaning up against the post of the nest, you gazed into the sky, reminiscing the times you would stargaze on the Oro Jackson as a child. As you closed your eyes, you heard creaking and footsteps made their way up to you. Turning your head to the sound, you found Shanks standing and looking at you with an unreadable expression. Flashing a small smile his way, you nodded in acknowledgement as the red-haired captain made his way and sat beside you.

The two of you sat in silence for a while, looking up at the sky until a single shooting star made its streak across the dark sky.

You gasped as you suddenly stood up and made your way to the railing of the nest. Shanks slowly got up and made his way beside you. A small smile adorned his lips as he began to speak. "I feel like I'm living through a moment of Deja vu right now." he chuckled.

The sky started to light up as more shooting stars started to fall.

"Yeah, how can I forget that day?" you quietly said with your eyes still trained forward to the sea and sky. You hadn't noticed that Shanks was looking at you the whole time.

You moved closer to Shanks, now standing side to side as you continued to watch the scene in front of you. A deep sigh escaped your chest as you subconsciously leaned your head into his right arm.

"I wish I could stay like this forever." you sighed. Glancing up, you bore your eyes into Shanks' brown ones as he looked down at you.

"You don't need to wish for that anymore you know," he whispered to you. He leaned his head down to yours but you drew your head away from his arms as you faced the man you desperately wanted to love.

"Shanks, why were you avoiding me all week?" you asked him.

A smile briefly appeared on his lips as he realized that you said his name in the four weeks that you stayed with him, but it fell as he also realized that he was avoiding you all week. The hurt in your eyes squeezed his heart.

"I'm sorry (Y/n). I hadn't realized that I was avoiding you. Truthfully, I guess I was just diverting my attention away from the fact you're going soon." he confessed.

"Ah, so he accepted the fact I was going to go for good." you thought as a sad smile adorned your lips.

"I guess it's for the better right? I mean, what good is it for me to stay here? Don't get me wrong I truly enjoyed my time here with you and the crew but..." you paused with a sigh.

Shanks brought his right hand up to your cheek and gently caressed it. "Please don't hide around the bush anymore. I know you want to stay (Y/n)," he murmured, with his deep brown eyes looking right into your soul.

The intensity of his stare made you blush and look away. "As much as I want to, a part of me is still afraid that you're just going to leave me again. I'd rather have you drop me off like we agreed to rather than you leaving me again in the unforeseeable future." you choked up as tears were threatening to leave your glossy eyes.

The red-haired man leaned his forehead against yours and closed his eyes. "But I came back, didn't I? I'm here now to fulfil that promise now and forever, so please don't go, not now that I have you back in my life. I know I shouldn't have left you, I was just scared that I was going to lose you just like how I lost the crew and the captain." he whimpered.

To see Shanks left in such a vulnerable state for your sake made your heart yearn and ache for him even more.

You recalled that day when you asked Shanks to stay by your side forever.

“You’ll stay by my side forever right?” you shyly and quietly asked him.

“You’re so silly (Y/n)! Of course, I’ll stay by your side. We’re best friends right?” he joyfully replied.

"Don't ever leave my side, please." he pleaded with you once more.

You drew back from him and took a good look at the man in front of you. As the stars continued to fall, the light that came and went danced upon his rugged features. The once playful glimmer in his eyes was replaced with a mix of mellow sadness and adoration, with his eyebrows slightly furrowed. A sad smile was drawn on his lips, slightly quivering as if he was going to cry at any given moment. His strands of red hair gently brushed against the wind. Reaching out to touch his hair, you gently stroked it before changing his life with a simple sentence that you told him when you were kids on that fateful night;

"You’d have to pry my dead body off of you if you want to get rid of me.” you quietly professed as tears started to fall freely down your face.

A second or two passed by before you were enveloped in a tight hug. However, that hug soon transitioned into a kiss as Shanks wrapped his strong arm around your waist and dipped down to brush his calloused lips against yours. At that same moment, the last stream of shooting stars fell through the sky in the background, lighting up the sky like it was day.

His red streams of hair bristled against your cheek as he carefully tilted his head to the left to deepen the angle of this kiss. You grabbed onto his white shirt and pulled him closer to deepen the kiss as well. You felt him breathe out into your face as he moved his lips to gently kiss you again.

After a minute, the two of you pulled away from the heated kiss and gave each other an earsplitting grin. The both of you started to laugh, and you wrapped your arms around Shanks' waist and buried your head on his chest.

"I can't believe it took us that long huh?" you giggled as you looked up at him. Your eyes twinkled as Shanks patted your head.

"I bet you won't believe what I wished for that night." he cooed.

"But you said that wishing was for kids!" you spouted.

Your lover hummed in amusement. "Well, I ended up making a wish okay?"

Pulling away from the hug, you brought both of your hands to his face and dragged him down to your eye level. "Well, what was it?" you pressed, the smile not leaving your face.

"Eighteen years ago, I fell in love with you that day we were stargazing together, and I wished for you to be my partner in this lifetime." he finally admitted, as he grabbed your left wrist towards him to kiss you once more under the starlight night sky.

[saerins]

─── 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑

+ itoshi rin x f!reader | wc 6k | content: mostly fluff, some angst, rin is so awkward, childhood friends to lovers

notes: my first time writing something for rin so i’m nervous but i hope you guys like it <3 pls i hope i didn’t butcher him >_< rbs & feedback appreciated muwah !

summary: rin thinks about you all the time, for better or for worse. problem is, he really shouldn’t be anymore. things never seem to work out for the both of you, will trying even make a difference this time?

rin knows you don’t like flowers. no wait, you like them, you just don’t like receiving them. you cried once, when the flower he plucked for you died within a few days in your makeshift vase.

rin also knows that while other girls dream of their dream wedding, you dream of a nice cosy house, a modern one with touches of japanese accents. he likes to hear you talk about it. he likes to hear you talk about anything at all, actually.

he’s known you ever since you were both little, since you were both five and just two kids in the playground playing hide and seek.

rin would always win, because you’re as clumsy as it gets and you’re not that observant. you could never find him, even if he’s right there. he likes it though; seeing you look for him, that little panicky look in your eyes when you think he’d ever actually abandon you and run off.

he played with you whenever he could—you were both neighbours after all. it was fun, being with you was fun.

you reminded him of new beginnings, like how it feels like jumping into a pool after a long hard day of training, or how the sun feels like hitting your skin on a cold winter day.

it was second nature for him—to seek you out whenever he had a hard time, to look for you when he needed a distraction, to search for you in the crowd to seek some familiarity.

but it’s easy for flimsy things to break. the both of you were just kids, and kids did childish things, like think only for the moment and not further into the future, did silly things like saying you’d marry one another with fake paper rings and forget it the very next day (rin remembers). kids also handle things in a bad way, in the way that leaves no room for the friend they pushed away.

if rin regrets anything from his past, it’s that he took sae’s departure out on you.

rin doesn’t know how to process things well. can’t decide why exactly he’s so pressed about sae’s choice of words. doesn’t know what to make of why he even plays soccer. is it just because of his brother?

he doesn’t fucking know.

rin’s sorry.

it isn’t your fault his brother found a different path. you had nothing to do with it. you and those brownies you cooked for him. he’s sorry that he let them fall to the ground and just stormed off.

that was what, three or four years ago? you’d moved out by then, and the both of you had never spoken since.

if he’s being honest, he misses your presence. maybe it’s the fact that you were his manifestation of a safety net, someone that he could fall back on, someone he could lean on.

maybe he’s just being an asshole.

now he’s seventeen and probably even more of an asshole. if anything, sae’s departure left a bitter taste in his mouth that he wasn’t able to cleanse.

but he’s lucky you’re you. you’re you and that means you don’t hold grudges and you’re still the kindest person he’s ever known.

“rin?”

he stops his hand in mid motion, the key between his fingers dropping onto the wooden floorboards below. rin can’t seem to function anymore—he knows that voice. all too well.

it’s the voice that made him excited as a kid, it’s the same voice that comforted him whenever he fell short of perfect, the same voice that haunts his dreams sometimes at night, even now.

rin turns around and sees you there, at his front porch, smiling all awkwardly and chuckling nervously, your hands in your pocket because you never know what to do with them when you’re uncomfortable.

“hi,” is all he manages to choke out because he’s still a little stunned and his key is long lost and forgotten on the ground.

“hey stranger,” you grin, and his heart beats faster and faster as you get closer and closer.

the both of you are no longer kids, and it’s so painfully obvious now in front of him. he can’t stop fucking staring even if his inner voice is screaming at him to.

“i thought you moved away,” rin manages to say, and because he’s really curious as to why you’re even here, in this place you’re not supposed to be, talking to someone you haven’t spoken to in years.

“i’m, uh, here just to visit my family,” you stutter out, and rin wants to call you out on it so bad, but he can’t do that without exposing himself.

how could he possibly tell you that he knows none of your family is left here in the neighbourhood because he’s asked everyone who used to be in contact with your family? how can he possibly say that without exposing himself for going through your social profiles just to find out that you’ve moved out to another city with your entire family?

so, what are you here for then?

“hey, you wanna, uh, go eat dinner together? or something? later?” you’re so awkward rin could die. rin’s so awkward he could just kill himself.

the silence is deafening and it’s not that he doesn’t want to have dinner with you, it’s just that he has soccer training in the evening and he’s still in shock from the fact that you’re here in the flesh and—

“it’s okay, forget i asked, i was just—”

“no, i mean,” rin trips over his own words and the two of you are just two stupid idiots standing on the itoshi family’s porch doing stupid idiot things. he takes a deep breath, “where should we eat?”

that smile you shoot him is deadly and he wants to keep it forever. if that’s even possible. but he’s really awkward with his feelings and he doesn’t even know what he feels for you. all he knows is that he wants you to stay here again, be within reach for him.

“pick me up at six on your bike?” you nod over to his bicycle, and he blushes so hard because despite getting countless valentines from other girls, none of them have the same effect on him as you do.

rin thinks he should shake his head and say no and pretend like you don’t exist again. he shouldn’t go on this pseudo date with you.

yet he does. he picks you up where you said you’d be, at a hotel near the heart of the city. he’s on his bicycle, just like you asked of him, and you definitely dressed for the ride, comfortable in shorts and a tank top. you’ve gotten from cute to so so pretty and rin finds it so damn difficult to tear his eyes away from you.

when you get on the back of his bicycle, you put your hands around his waist and he can actually feel how fast your heart is beating. rin’s is too, but he’s grateful you probably can’t tell.

also at your request, he takes you to a spot he chose—which is nothing extravagant because you’re both still broke students who haven’t earned your own money, but he thinks you’ll like it anyway.

after getting some cup noodles from a nearby convenience store, he pedals over to the playground the both of you used to spend ages at when you were kids. the place where you used to play hide and seek with each other.

it’s a place of significance. at least, to him. he wonders if you even remember this place.

“nice choice, itoshi rin,” you say, and rin has his answer. “i missed this place.”

and rin missed you, but he isn’t going to say that.

“i’m surprised you remember,” he tells you, choosing to sit down on the swings. you follow and sit on the only other one beside him, your cup noodle hot and ready in your hands. “how’s kyushu?”

you slurp up some of your noodles, and rin thinks you look beautiful just like this anyway. “it’s okay, made some friends so that makes it more tolerable.” you’re shrugging like it’s no big deal, but he can tell by the faraway look in your eyes that there’s more to it.

“tokyo’s better, huh?” he isn’t much for small talk, but he can’t help himself—it’s been far too long without you, and he wants to feel close to you again. it’s as though after everything that happened—sae moving abroad, you moving away, rin feeling lost—it’s like he doesn’t really know how to be your friend anymore.

nodding your head, you turn to him. “much better.”

and rin can’t help but think that there’s a deeper meaning to your answer. but he doesn’t press.

maybe he should’ve, because when you switch the topic, he finds he doesn’t like what he’s hearing.

“anyway, i’m only here for a day,” you tell him, going back to your noodles. “i fly back tomorrow.”

some part of him wants to ask you why you’re even here. he wants to know about the you now, about how much has changed in these few years, what you like now—do you still like hot chocolate in the winter, do you still get colds easily, do you still think about him after all this time?

“are you… going to come back for college?” because if you still wanted to go to university in tokyo, you’d have to move back here. rin thinks he’d like that.

you’re a little taken aback because from what you’d heard from your old friends, rin had become someone they barely recognised; cold, blunt, more like his brother than himself. but in front of you now, you feel like the rin you know is still in there.

but this is where it gets hard.

“actually…” you trail off because you don’t really know where to start. “i got into a university in america. my mother got a job there and she wants me to go with her.”

you don’t even want to look at him right now. you don’t really know what you want to see. some silly part of you wants to see that he minds, that he’ll make a big deal out of you going away somewhere even further than the other side of japan. but if he doesn’t, if he looks like it doesn’t affect him at all, then you don’t think you can handle that.

“oh.” ever the best at giving a non-response, you’re not surprised.

it’s silent for a while, and the two of you are just eating your noodles, and it’s so suffocating that you want to bolt and run but that means you probably won’t ever get to see rin again and you don’t want that.

your body is screaming at you to do something, to say anything, to savour whatever time you have left with rin now properly—but you can’t.

beside you, the gears are turning in his head. rin’s noodles are already gone and he isn’t even aware his chopsticks are grappling around for nothing but soup.

america? that’ll mean you’re at least twelve hours away and he can’t even imagine what that’ll mean for your friendship. or whatever the fuck this muddy waters is.

rin wants to say something, anything—but what? don’t go? when are you coming back? are we ever going to be at the same place at the same time again after tonight?

he’s conflicted between his possible feelings and his selfishness. so he resigns to not saying anything at all. all that’s left for the night is hearing the wind blowing past your faces and the creaking of the swings, very much like how he envisioned a bad goodbye to go.

that night he gives you a ride back to your hotel despite your insistence that it’s late. because who do you take him for? did it mean nothing to you that this might be the last time?

“so, uh, i’ll see you around, i guess,” you say as you step off of his bicycle, after a trip that seems way too fast. rin already misses the sensation of your arms around his waist.

he thinks it’s a stupid sentence. realistically, in every single way he can think it’ll play out, it ends with the both of you drifting apart anyway, and he finds himself wishing you never came back.

which is untrue. which is the furthest it could possibly be from the truth. but rin doesn’t want to think about that right now.

“okay then, goodbye,” rin decides, because he’s not about to get his own hopes up for nothing. if you’re about to vanish, then maybe it’s high time he gets it done.

rin steps on the pedal, but then you stop him, voice clear as the first day he met you. “rin, wait!”

you’re not sure why it slipped out, but it did.

“what is it?”

his eyes are cool, calm, a dead teal that stares right through you. you’re almost intimidated because you’re not sure just what he’s thinking of you right now. he must think you’re a freak, showing up like this and dropping a bomb that he may or may not care about.

“um, nothing, it’s just- is there anything else?”

some part of you wants him to ask you to stay in tokyo. maybe the both of you could find a university together and stay in close proximity, just like when you were kids, just like how you liked it.

just like everything you missed.

and now the two of you are staring at each other, knowing yet not knowing everything that’s going through one another’s mind. but it gets lost in translation because neither of you can find the words to say.

rin blinks at you, and you can’t even read him if you tried. “no, nothing. is there something you wanna say?”

you shake your head, smiling through it. “no, nothing. goodbye.”

you’re back through the hotel double doors before you know it, and rin’s left to watch your silhouette fade away.

for the first time in his life, he feels like he’s lost something precious that he’ll never find again.

life goes on.

rin graduates from high school and so do you. the texting stopped, and that much he expected. better to cut the cord sooner rather than later, even if rin wished for otherwise.

he rides on a full scholarship to university, and from the online grapevines, he hears that you’re doing the same. you’re smart, so he’s not surprised.

this is the right thing to do; both of you have your own lives to concentrate on. some stupid crush doesn’t matter. and yes, rin has already conceded to the feeling because he can’t explain this any other way.

his frustration that comes from your separation, his anger when it comes to being helpless, his endless regret from not saying anything that night—it’s only because he wants you.

“i hear y/n’s doing good at her new school,” rin hears his mom cooing from the kitchen. he sighs. of course she did, yours and his moms are both close. yet another channel through which he can get updates on you, warranted or not.

“yeah?” he pretends not to care much, but he’s hanging on her every word.

“yeah, it’s valentines’ day around the corner too, i hear she has lots of guys lining up.”

kill him. kill him right fucking now.

“good for her.” good for you he’s not there to stare daggers at all the guys ogling at you. good for you he’s not there to commit bloody murder.

“i think so too, ah she’s all grown up,” his mother chatters on, completely oblivious to the torment she’s subjecting her son to. “i hear she’s having her first date next week, i heard he’s a model too, did she talk to you about it?”

you must’ve played it off to your mother that you and rin are fine. rin sighs, tired of the thoughts running through his head. as if soccer wasn’t tiring enough already.

“don’t know, maybe.”

just like his feelings for you, and his willingness to act on it.

two years into university and it isn’t that hard for him anymore.

actual lectures and assignments take up half of his time, and the other half is reserved for soccer. with teammates like isagi yoichi and bachira meguru annoying him even outside of practice, rin doesn’t even have much time to think of you.

until he’s forced to.

“what about you, rin? is there anyone special in your life?”

bachira tuts, “isagi, he’s always buried in books and practicing soccer, it’s obviously a no.”

rin’s annoyed, half because what bachira said is true and half because isagi made him think of you. it’s been a while since he knew what was up with you. you’re probably doing well, probably thriving in that environment, probably all in love with your boyfriend—that stupid yukimiya kenyu that you accepted for valentine’s last year.

he carefully extracts himself from isagi and bachira’s bickering, feigning that he’s looking through the aisle for books except what he’s really doing is scrolling through his phone and hunting for your profile.

what other way is he supposed to get updates? definitely not from you, because you’ve been so fucking radio silent since that night.

all that rin sees that day is a story posted to your account. just a backdrop of the view in your city with the words some things just aren’t meant to be.

you’re right. some things aren’t. including the both of you. so rin tucks his phone away in his pocket and goes about his day, half happy that it sounds like you’re not with yukimiya anymore, half concerned that this is what the both of you became.

somehow he’s here. he’s right fucking here and it’s him this time that’s going to surprise you. unintentionally. or intentionally, if you argued that he agreed to come in the first place.

“isn’t this place so beautiful?” his mother’s words are lost on him. he’s too busy thinking of you.

his mother’s here to visit your mother and by extension he guesses you’ll be there. it’s supposedly the summer break anyway.

and you really are there, on your front porch this time, freezing up when you catch sight of rin walking up your driveway.

nothing can describe his relief when you actually walk up to him and talk to him, because a part of him was expecting you to slap him for some reason.

“still watching horror movies for fun?” you ask him when you’re finally alone together, away from the ruckus of both your moms.

you missed him, he and his teal eyes and his absurdly longer fringe and his awkward demeanour. he’s a long shot from the person you knew as a kid. he’s taller, more muscles, more stoic, handsome. you were too shy to look at him properly that night in tokyo, but you can now.

“i don’t really have time for fun.” rin turns away, a little horrified you remember as much about him as you do. you’d been asking him things you remember from back when you guys were five. “how’re things here?”

you hum in contemplation, like you’re considering your words, and rin looks at you this time, admiring the way you look in the sunlight, the smile stuck onto your face, the voice that he’d never get tired of.

“it’s fine, school’s great, boyfriend’s great, everything’s… great.”

boyfriend?

“that yukimiya guy?”

fuck. fuck fuck fuck. he didn’t mean to say that. fuck. you’re gonna know he stalked you. he doesn’t even fucking follow you, he has no good excuse for knowing that.

you blink once, twice, confused and then getting bashful from the realisation. “um, yeah. things were rocky at first and then it got better so…”

rin is internally strangling himself. he needs to stop having thoughts about a taken girl. he needs to stop wondering what you taste like, what you look like in the mornings when you just wake up, what you’d sound like when you’re sleepy.

“that’s… good.”

the two of you are awkward to bits and he wishes he was someone different right now.

the day ends with nothing substantial. rin couldn’t talk much after he hears you’re still with yukimiya. you couldn’t even stay much because you had plans with him anyway. who’s he to stand in your way? rin’s just an old friend from the past. that’s all. there’s nothing more.

that’s what he thinks. until that same night when he’s all packed and ready to go for the next afternoon’s flight. all because you called him out of the blue. he’s amazed you still have his number.

“hey, rin.”

from the first moment you opened your mouth, he can tell you’re crying. shit, why are you crying?

“are you okay?” because you’re probably the only person in the world who can tug on his heartstrings like this. for being the only person in this world he has feelings for.

you’re forcing a laugh, like you’re not sure what to say. rin doesn’t really know either.

“am i not worth anything?” your question takes him off guard.

doesn’t take a genius to know something probably happened between you and yukimiya. and it doesn’t take much for you to get rin bolting out the door.

“where are you?”

“home,” you sniffle, and you must hear him getting into a cab, “i’m fine, you don’t have to come—”

“i’m coming,” he tells you, firmly, and he can almost tell you’re smiling from the other side of the line.

rin’s heart is racing, adrenaline pumping through his veins. he’s not sure why, but he’s ached to get closer to you since forever, and he passed it up the last time, the previous time you met in tokyo.

his heart’s still racing when you let him into the house, when it’s all dark and unfamiliar and you’re so close to him he can smell the shampoo off your hair.

apparently yukimiya never got over his first love, and you’d caught him locked in a kiss with her right before your dinner.

he’s not good with these situations. at comforting people, at being so close to the girl he likes that he’s trying his very best not to fucking kiss her right now. how does he tell you that you’re good enough, right now, when you keep rambling on and on about how you think you’re not? he really wants to shut you up but he can only think of kissing you and maybe that’s not a can of worms you want to open right now.

besides, if he does that, you might look at him as something temporary, a crutch you need right now but not for the long run and call him crazy but if he’s going to try this much for you, he doesn’t want to be the rebound.

but god fucking damn it, he’ll kill himself if he chickens out now.

you fall asleep after crying your guts out, and rin’s barely said ten words to you all night. he carries you to your room, puts you down on your bed and he resists placing a kiss on your forehead even if you won’t know it.

there’s no time left here for him, he’ll have to go back home tomorrow afternoon and you’ll be worlds apart once again. tonight may have been just a fluke; you probably just needed someone and rin was a safe bet.

he writes something down on a rough paper sitting on your desk and leaves it there before he goes. it’s irritating, how much you’re making him think, how much you’re making him flip flop between various moods.

one moment he decides to leave you alone and the next moment he doesn’t want to leave your side. there’s just something about seeing you so heartbroken that he can’t forgive.

and how kind the world is, to serve the guy who broke your heart to rin in a silver platter. he’d recognise that hair and those glasses anywhere—yukimiya kenyu.

“who’re you?”

rin doesn’t respond, only pushes him away. “if you know what’s good for you, leave.”

“what are you talking about?”

“i know what you did to y/n.”

yukimiya sighs, “look that’s what i wanted to talk to y/n about. i wanted to do this properly, to talk it out with her properly but then my ex was the one who—”

“shut the fuck up, i don’t care.”

yukimiya looks like he wants to retaliate, like he wants to argue back, and it would’ve probably turned into an all-out brawl if your mother didn’t rush out of the house at just the right time.

rin doesn’t bother with anything else after that. he leaves even though your mother tells him he can stay. frankly, he’s not sure he can stand being in the same room as yukimiya without giving him a punch.

the next morning comes and you haven’t left any messages. rin’s already back in japan for a while when you decide you’re finally ready to call him. but he’s heartbroken from thinking he was stupid to leave you that note so he rarely pays attention to his phone.

you end up having to leave it on his voicemail instead.

you said to call you if i wanted to try and… i do.

whatever yukimiya had come to say to you that night, it probably didn’t work, because rin does hear your voicemail. he hears your voice saying that you want to try, with him, and he thinks he may have been dreaming for a while.

but then he plays it over and over and over again.

he’s a few years late, but better late than never, he thinks.

you have two more years before you get your degree, and rin’s not about to get in between that. what he does do is pay you a visit from time to time because he hates this goddamn physical distance between the both of you.

it starts with the both of you talking to each other over the phone, the painfully awkward conversations turning more and more bearable. after a while, you’re the one getting him out of his shell, purposely teasing him all the time, getting reactions out of him.

he stays over at your apartment near school whenever he visits. you share the same bed for the first time and somehow it’s not uncomfortable. he lays beside you like he’s meant to be there. and you fall asleep so fast whenever he’s there, like he’s your damn lullaby.

distance starts to feel like nothing for the both of you, because it never wanes your feelings. even when he’s in japan and you’re halfway across the world, it doesn’t feel like you’re very far.

besides, he likes how it is—you chase your dreams, he chases his. the future can wait. the uncertainties can come later.

they come faster than he bargained for.

you’re nearing graduation while he’s nearing the end of his current contract term with a japanese club, but you’ve scored a job with one of the hottest startups in america. which means you’re going to be there.

for a long while.

“take it,” rin tells you, because you’ve called him to tell him this because you don’t know if you want to. but he can tell, like he always can when it comes to you. you want to take it, and he’s the only factor that’s stopping you. because before now, you’ve been thinking of coming back to tokyo and working at one of the bigger firms here.

looks like that plan’s not going to pan out though, because rin will kill himself before he becomes the reason that you’re not being the best version of yourself.

“but that means…”

there you go, hesitating again.

“we’ll figure it out. we did it once before, we’ll do it again.”

you chuckle in relief because somehow, itoshi rin has become your rock. he went from being some stoic and inexpressive human to being your voice of reason.

“you’re right, you’re right,” you concede. because yes, he’s always right somehow.

so you accept the offer, signing yourself away for another five years.

“what does that mean for the both of you though?”

you sigh. you’re not sure. rin hasn’t said much beyond what he did during that phone call nearly a year back, and he hasn’t come to visit for a few months now so you can’t really tell what’s going on in his head.

long distance sucks.

“i don’t know, mom,” you confess, “i don’t want this to be the end. but i can’t see a future where the both of us are always in different countries.”

your mother doesn’t say anything much after that, it’s not like she has any personal experience on the matter.

you think about it all throughout your finals period, all throughout your graduation transition. you’re not sure that you and rin can just make it through this by just winging it like how you’d always been. and you think maybe rin is just full of it, maybe he’s just as much in denial about this as you are. he hasn’t even been texting you as much nowadays, not after the news.

your phone vibrates on your table as you’re idly staring out the window. it’s a week to graduation.

a text from rin.

meet me after your ceremony next week, we need to talk.

and the anxiety kicks in.

rin shows up at your graduation ceremony like he said he would. he dresses up nicely, white dress shirt and black pants—simple, classy, handsome. you can spot him even from where you are, up near the stage.

yeah, you’d been nervous ever since he sent you that text.

it didn’t help that he didn’t talk to you much up until today, when his flight landed and he’d told you about it even though he knows you have his flight details in your handy little app.

when you run over to him after the ceremony, you find quite a funny sight before your eyes. never in your life did you think you’d ever see rin looking sharp as ever in a white shirt and pants only to be carrying what looks like a bouquet of—not flowers but—nuggets on sticks and chocolate.

rin smiles sheepishly when you get to him. “you don’t want flowers right?”

yeah, you’re in love with him. dorky, stupid rin with his abstract ways of showing love. you love how he remembers details like this since way back when you were kids. you love his awkwardness and his acts of service. you love him and everything he has and all that he doesn’t.

“thanks, i love it,” you gush, taking the bouquet from him, accepting your parents’ offer to help take a picture of the both of you.

they take a ton of pictures.

in one of them, rin kisses your temple and you think you might melt. in another, you kiss his cheeks in return and he’s a deep shade of red. those are before the last picture where he turns you to face him and presses a kiss on your lips, earning a few whistles from the people around you.

you punch him playfully on the chest for that. you hear him chuckle and that might be your favorite sound ever.

rin surprises you too, because the next thing you know, he’s dragging you along with him, running to his car parked by the curb; you’re wondering how he even had the time to rent it.

“where are we going?”

your gown is long discarded into the back seats and rin only offers you a smirk in return. he’s not telling, and you roll your eyes and let it be.

whatever it is, you’re excited.

maybe it’s the fact that you had been thinking the worst up until this point. or maybe it’s the fact that he has his hand on your bare thigh. hell, it could even just be the fact that you’re sitting in a car with the prettiest guy you’ve ever met. but your heart is beating out of your chest and for the first time, you feel like this can be nothing but good news.

rin proves you right, because he takes you somewhere unfamiliar and then tells you why exactly he’s been distant the past week. he takes your hand and leads you through the front doors of what he now calls “our house”.

everything you’ve ever told him you wanted in your dream house; wooden overheads, small koi pond out back, a beautiful rooftop garden with a wooden porch swing.

everything.

he made it real. he made your dream house without you asking. he’s telling you he’ll move here if that’s what it takes to be with you. he tells you he loves you more than he can ever imagine loving anything else at all. he says that he’ll always be with you, and this time he doesn’t want to be apart to do it.

he asks you, “will you try to make it work with me?”

as if he even needs to.

if anyone asked you back then if you thought rin was capable of any of this, you’d say no. because the boy you knew at five is passive, quiet, not the kind to make declarations like these.

yet here he is, almost twenty years later, promising to put you first and make this last because he’s sure this is what he wants.

“itoshi rin,” you slowly call his name, roping your arms around his shoulder while the both of you look at each other and only each other as you stand on the staircase landing. “what would you have done if i said no?”

because this is all extravagant—rin put his everything into this. dug up all the memories of your dream house, ran himself haggard just to get all of this done on time, and who knows what else because he kept all of this from you?

rin has a straight face, beautiful teal eyes rolling to the side as he contemplates. “guess that was never an option in my head.”

“you’re so stupid,” you tease, pressing a kiss onto his soft lips and relishing in the fact that this is just the first kiss of many to come.

because he’s now here. here with you. and he’s here to stay.

“guess that’s why i need you around to take care of me,” rin teases back, biting his lower lip and smirking at you.

you jump up and he catches you, your legs crossed behind his back as he carries you to the kitchen, setting you down on the countertop.

“so, itoshi rin,” you say again, suppressing a grin. “does that mean you’re gonna make me your wife one day?”

rin sighs and rolls his eyes, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “okay, trouble, dial back a bit now. one step at a time.”

he’s lying through his teeth, a ring passed down through his family for generations already nestled neatly in the hidden compartment of the nightstand in the bedroom. he’s lying—but you don’t need to know that. not yet.

you’re all trouble, and all beautiful and all his and rin is going to marry you someday.

because he may be dumb in a lot of ways, may be a little awkward and terrible in most situations and not the friendliest guy out there. but somehow you chose him and you always did and you always will so he’s not going to let you regret that decision.

so before you can make a comeback and expose him for really wanting to marry you, he kisses you to shut you up, and you know anyway.

because you’ve known rin since you were five, playing hide and seek in the playground. you never won because you could never find him. but you think now you have; you’ve found him and he’s not going anywhere. not anymore.

“i’m never gonna let you leave me, itoshi rin.”

he chuckles, “i’m all yours, trouble.”

[brandileigh2003]

Wolfstar fic recs featuring disability, chronic illness, chronic pain, or characters who are deaf or blind

**please feel free to drop your own fic or recs in comments and I'll add.

~~~please give these authors love, comments and interaction means more than you know. ~~

orange juice (i've been ready for you to come home for so long) by raggedypond divorced wolfstar get back together, flashbacks to remus getting diagnosis, breakup, and Sirius dealing with alcoholism. Raising teddy. Hea.

-love finds a way by littleoldrachel: Jurassic Park exes to lovers

-the sea is a good place to think of the future by peachyybabe: @lavenderhaze get back together, raising teddy, the second has mcd but if you just read first you can pretend he's ok? (I know I have friends who don't touch mcd with 10ft pole)

-(really you can't go wrong with any of peachyybabe, disability, chronic illness and/or mental health/illness in all.

-Forget the World by @amberlink mcd. Sirius is a surgeon, saves remus' life and they marry for insurance. But ofc fall in love along the way as Remus' heart gets worse. this was so good and explored brief as well

-my jokes are my armour, my kindness is my sword by @littleoldrachel remus owns flower shop and meets the gang (seizures and chronic pain

-Like Real People Do by third_crow coffee shop au, also sirius raising harry. So good.

-Tender is the touch (of someone that you love too much) by @purplefiction-ao3 remus has heart condition, written by person with chronic illness themselves

-Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations by TheQueerTailor Sixth year has just started and Remus is barely keeping up. He's just sixteen but it feels like his body is falling apart.

-heat and balance by @eyra also interesting look into Sirius dual role of partner and caregiver

-We’ll Make It Out Alive by wolfstar_addict417 texting fic, raising teddy

-the mayors of simpleton by fruity_individual get back together, remus is blind, raising teddy

-Found Heaven by fierrochase fluffy text fic, so cute together

-Black's Anatomy by @grasslesss greys anatomy fic, remus has lupus

-The Sickness Unto Death by oliverdalstonbrowning university au, remus has cystic fibrosis

-Of Bookshelves and Baby Carriers by @poppunkpadfoot bookshop au, sirius raising harry

-My Only Sunshine by Loua29xx: remus had cancer. Mcd

- Young Blood by viwrites @just--vi road trip au, jegulus main, remus has heart condition (I've been told the 2nd focus more on wolfstar, haven't gotten there yet)

-I Don't Care if My Heart Breaks by orphan_account: bookshop au, remus has cerebral palsy

-Be silent like deep water by @her-smile-forges-galaxies remus is deaf

-Give Me A Sign by@theresthesnitch soulmate fic, remus is deaf. Wip

-Kill Your Darlings by MesserMoon: @sophsicle jegulus main but remus is deaf. Hockey and University au

-Signs of Affection by KittyCargo: remus is deaf, teacher asl

-For the Love of Ducks by viwrites Remus has heart condition

-a lot of Lucigoo89 feature in some way. @lucigoo

-Sweets and Books by Writer_INFJ_2w1: bookshop au, chronic pain

- feel what its like to be new by peachyybabe: boarding school au, sirius is blind

-Rarer Than One in a Million by Sp00nhater wolfstar is so soft and sweet, meet in hospital

-one shot: Another New Potion? by depressed_and_nauseous

-wip: bite the hand by raggedypond: zombie apocalypse

-The Language of Flowers by B1ackCatChatsBack Remus has ra, flower shop

-Good Old Fashioned Lover Boys by Hell_Again: bakery au

-Casimir Pulaski Day by breadpoetssociety: cancer, mcd

-Forever Is a State of Mind by orphan_account (deaf remus)

-Living Like We're Renegades by orphan_account (hoh remus, university)

-Mile High by quidditery chronic pain

-this is not a temporary love (now my heart is in your hands) by littleoldrachel (pining, abandoned as far as I know, but worth it!!!)

-I Didn't Come Here to Party, I Only Came for the Cake by attheendoftheday gbbo Remus with fibromyalgia

-Six Feet Apart by Belle_Lestrange101 pandemic fic, Remus has hiv

-Beyond the Heartbeat by bizarrestars: ultimately a story about grief of regulus, with the middle soft wolfstar falling in love. Remus and illness is featured.

-Small Bones of Courage by Anonymous mcd, please read tags, sensitive topics. Later in life lycanthropy is terminal for remus.

-Fractured Skies by orphan_account coffee shop fic, Sirius is deaf, Remus has epilepsy

-as it was by peachyybabe A story about falling in love with a stranger in a bookstore and learning how to live again.

-An Infinte Ocean orphan_account: teddy has cf, Sirius is amputer

-Blind Werewolf McWolf by orphan_account Remus is blind

-Message from Seat 25A by PleaseDonateBlood 1 shot lupus

-if you were a waiting room. by beaniesandblackcoffee

-Time May Change Me by Kaymardsa lupus

-Underneath It All by Kaymardsa: seizures, texting fic

-i don't want to be your muse by yellowmarshmallow muggle asexual remus with chronic fatigue syndrome

-waiting room by haey1

-Remus lupins guide on how to (not) become a quidditch seeker by Girl_rotting

-Physiotherapy by @missmoonfrost Sirius helping remus see his body and therapy in another light

***all of my fics have disability or chronic illness rep two of my faves: silence between us (deaf remus + disability) and inevitable (cancer, mcd)**

These are prb widely known but...

-Highland Fling [+podfic] by @picascribitremus has lupus. They meet when Sirius is backpacking

-Text Talk by merlywhirls: Sirius is in boarding school, Remus is in hospital, and they don't know each other until Sirius texts the wrong number.

-Blends by rvltn909 coffee shop (sequel names goes into it a lot more)

-A Cup of Sugar by MsAlexWP: both harry and remus disabled

-Discards by picascribit read tags , sensitive subjects: remus has hiv

-A Wolf's Heart by mizdiz : meet in bookshop, remus has heart problems, mcd

-Problems with Narrative Structure and the Rules of Manly Engagement by @xinasvoice : get together fic, remus is an author has fibromyalgia

@just--vi did a tiktok video with these mentioned too that I forgot (give her some love)

-A Wolf, A Bear, A Dungeon Master, and Boy Wonder by ratmom819

-Forever is Definitely Punk Rock by orphan_account (lupus)

-Put Your Head on My Shoulder by jennandblit

-Sunshine on Leith by eyra

Spoons and Stars by Chlobliviate (Rec from glittery-grandma) chronic fatigue and pain, wolfstar in uni

Others who sent me recs:

With different eyes by Shadowmun: blind Sirius is a seer. (haven't read this but def it's on my list) Also check out ao3 or tumblr there are some others that aren't wolfstar @mundrakan

---feel free to check it my main rec list

I shall also direct you to some lists by the @wolfstarlibrarian I'm sure there is some in common but they also have more one shots that I unfortunately usually don't track for the most part (this is amazing account, and not mine, but give them lots of love)

Wolfstar + Chronic Pain, Wolfstar w/Disabilities, Deafness, & Blindness, Wolfstar Hospital AUs, Sick Fic Oneshots, Terminally/Chronically Ill Remus Fics

[orchidyoonkook]

To What We Were Before, And All The Things After | JJK | Ch. 1

Title: Assembly’s and Introductions 

Pairing: Prince!College Student!JK x Fine Arts Major!(F)!Reader

Series Rating//Genre: (M) | College AU, Smut, Angst, Fluff, S2F2L, Mild Indiffernce to lovers, sloooowwww ass burn

Summary: There’s a new kid at your prestigious university, he’s tall, tattooed and muscular, and oh yeah, he’s the Prince. 

Warnings: PG13, mild swearing, a general ‘lets get the ball rolling’ first chapter

Word Count: 5410

Release Date: January 26, 2023, 12:40PM

A/N 1: I’ve been working on this since September 2022, got 80K in, and have accidentally taken an extended break from Dec 1st until now. I need a kick in the pants to continue writing it so here’s the first chapter. I hope you enjoy as I have read this about 400 times and I’m sick of editing it.

A/N 1.5: it’s pronounced ‘Nehl” not “Neal”

“Come on, come ooooon!!” Yuri says as she drags you by one arm down the corridor, the other filled with books and study notes. You’re being dragged from your mid morning study session and she's starting to stretch your favourite sweater from how hard she’s pulling.

Slipping from her grasp to save it from any permanent damage, Yuri uses her new freedom to take the lead.

“Not everyone cares as much about this as you do,” you say, rolling your eyes. “I get you’re here because your parents put you here but I worked for it. I can’t just abandon my study plans for some guy,” voice echoing in the corridor as you succeed in keeping up with her quick pace.

Yuri mocks your words in gibberish, matching your tone, just more nasally.

She’s heard this hundreds of times since becoming your best friend in first year after being assigned your roommate. She may force you to go to places and parties you don’t find nearly as important as she does, but you also know she’s the only reason you’ve had any fun since starting university.

That doesn’t deter you though.

“I’m serious,” you insist, refusing to back down.

A look you know well flashes over her face. One that’s a mixture of absurdity and exhaustion— specifically at you.

“You know, sometimes I can’t even believe we’re friends. He’s not just some guy YN,” she looks over her shoulder to make eye contact. “He's the prince.”

Ah yes, the prince.

How could you be so foolish?

The fancy name given to the poor bastard who doesn’t get to decide his future—or work for it for that matter. Just has it handed to him because he was born at the right place, right time.

The prince who’ll be king to the biggest nation in the west one day.

The prince everyone freaks out over.

Sure, he’s cute enough, and will eventually have lots of money and power, because those are so important for someone like him.

But what’s money and power if you’re miserable or an asshole or you don’t know what to do with it? What’s money and power for someone who’s never known poverty and helplessness?

The title of Prince means nothing if you don’t earn it. Means nothing if you don’t know how to use it properly.

Who knows if this one does? So why should you particularly care?

Unfortunately, most people can’t get past the ‘young, handsome, future king of the Western Shores, hunk-a-hunk of dreamy’—blah, blah, blah, the media splatters over every magazine cover they possibly can, earning the prince a hefty social following of adoring, screaming—slightly brain dead if you had any say about it— ‘followers’ aka fans.

And Yuri, like every other girl on campus, is one of them. Minus the brain dead and screaming.

Well…Sort of minus the screaming.

She has screamed, in the past at least. So maybe just minus the brain dead part…

Anyways, she’s grabbing your wrist and you sigh, wringing yourself free of her near iron grip, again. But you can’t blame her.

Yuri’s focused on one thing, and one thing only.

And it’s beginning in 15 minutes.

“Plus I want good seats!”

You scoff.

“He’s just a person, Yuri. I get he’s got an important title and fancy job, but that’s all that separates him from us.”

She glares at you as you reach the courtyard of your school.

Trees surround the perimeter in evenly placed lines, a large running fountain at its center. There’s plenty of open grass space the students use to study, picnic or throw a ball around on. And its cobblestone walkways are currently covered in rows upon rows of filled up seats.

Most of those filled seats are in the middle though, which surprises you. You would’ve thought girls would be lining up at the front row to see their prince.

“Yeah, just the title and fancy job,” Yuri says, taking her turn to scoff and opens her hand to count on her fingers. “Let's not count the fact that he’s insanely hot—have you seen his body? His face? Or what of the land he’ll inherit on top of the land he already owns? And money! Can’t forget that. Or clothes. Not enough? I can keep going,” she switches to her other hand. “How about control over the largest kingdom in The West? They don't call him ‘Prince of the Western Shores’ for nothing, Sweets. Also the mass of adoring fans, security and advisors following his every move, nice cars, fancy vacation houses…should I keep going?”

You’re pretty sure she only stopped because she ran out of fingers and you don’t deign her with a reply. Yuri seems content to have made her point and she did. 

But you’d never admit that to her. Instead you keep walking, taking in the sights around you.

Your school is The Royal Academy of Business and Fine Arts. Anyone can study here if they have the cash, or the brains, though one method is much more abused than the other.

It’s one of the most prestigious schools in the world because it’s where nearly every royal on this half of the continent goes to university. Hence the “Royal'' in the title.

Ladys, lords, dukes, duchesses, princesses and yes, princes all go here—are most of your classmates, actually. But there is only one prince everyone cares about. The one who, in the next few short years, will not only be at your school for whatever it is his father deems appropriate for him to study in his post secondary education, but the one who is also first in line and heir to the biggest kingdom in The West—if it hadn’t been mentioned before.

His Royal Highness, Prince Jeon Jungkook.

Okay… look.

It’s not that you don’t like him, he hasn’t done anything to make you hate him, and you’re sure he’s a decent guy once you get to know him.

It’s just that you don’t really feel any type of way about him, positive or negative. And that confuses so many people around you.

Which in turn, confuses you.

Most people seem to think he’s some sort of god sent angel carved by the hands of whoever created the universe. Fawning over him and thinking he can do no wrong. But what they all fail to see is that he’s just like them.

Got a bit more of a leg up on life than most, sure, but still human. Like you, or Yuri.

He eats and showers and uses the bathroom. He gets a runny nose and puffy eyes when he’s sick. He has bad hair days and ties his own shoes… you think.

He’s just a regular guy with an irregular job. So no, you had no opinion on him other than disinterested neutrality.

But if you had to feel something? You guess you probably felt pity.

You worked your ass off in highschool to get where you are. You and your mom screamed until your voices were hoarse when you got your acceptance letter two and a half years ago. One of 25 scholarship students accepted on a full ride every year.

You were doing a major in fine arts and a minor business, wanting to milk your education for all it’s worth on their dime. Lucking out that your two areas of interest were not only at one school, but at one of the best schools in the world for both subjects.

You chose what you wanted for your life and you worked for it for years. And now you sit comfortably at the top of your class in both fine arts and business, not taking your opportunity for granted for a second.

Jungkook though? He’s expected to go here. Doesn’t have much of a choice about it, and he doesn’t have to work for it either.

A small part of you that has yet to mature envies him for how easy he has it, for the privileges he is given simply because of one six letter word in front of his name. That he didn’t have to put in 60 hour weeks and give up his teenage years just to prove he was good enough to be here.

He was born good enough.

But that’s a small part of you, and you can ignore it if you try hard enough.

The point is you felt pity because he’s probably never had to work for something a day in his life. He doesn’t know the satisfaction of working towards something, to not only succeed, but to be the best.

To earn what he has.

He won’t know what to do when real life hits him.

Yuri lets a baby scream loose as she spots her desired seats and yanks you out of your thought spiral. 

The front of the courtyard is still relatively empty, middle still filling up faster than anything else.

“Yes! Score! First row, left side, that’s perfect! He'll definitely see us.”

She grabs your arm a third time and it’s an effort not to drop your books and groan at her.

Yuri’s like you in the sense where she is not royalty, but unlike you she—or should you say, her parents—are loaded.

Family business perks.

She’s here because she can be, because her family can afford to send her and make donations, not because she wants to be or because she worked for it.

But don’t misunderstand that, Yuri works hard. She just happens to party more than she studies most days. That and plan her future with a very rich and handsome guy who has yet to be determined.

You’d jokingly deemed her a royalty hunter after about an hour of meeting her for how badly she wanted to ‘marry up.’

“See you,” you correct, or has she forgotten about Nel, your boyfriend of 5 years? Your high school sweetheart and who is currently, much to your dismay, at school about 5000 miles away.

“I’m sure Cornelius wouldn’t be mad if the prince charms his girl just once, seeing as his royal highness can do that to most people just by breathing near them,” she quips. ”And even if he would get mad, Jungkook can just have him thrown in a dungeon for being overprotective and jealous.”

“The royal palace doesn’t have dungeons, but they do have a series of interrogation rooms on the third lower level,” you inform her. You did a project on the history and architecture of the royal palace in tenth grade—and Nel really wouldn’t care, he knows where he stands, just like you do.

“How do you just know that!”

Yuri didn’t know you in highschool and you used that to your advantage every single time you could, laughing bright and loud.

She starts dragging you down the walkway again, a habit of hers. Like she’s worried you’ll try to slip away if she isn’t forcing you where she wants you to be.

It’s a good instinct on her part.

You're nearly there, so you focus more on the trees just starting to turn colours overhead, casting slightly pigmented shadows on the ground. Fall is just starting to creep up on the heels of summer, the days of sunscreen and chlorine slowly being replaced by pumpkin spice and crisp apples.

She sits exactly where she wanted too, and you plop beside her, glad you’re wearing a light sweater and tights. They are just warm enough to keep the slight breeze from giving you chills, but also keep your legs from sticking to the plastic seats.

For such an expensive school to go to you’d think they’d have better assembly furniture.

You notice a news camera off in the distance and suddenly understand the empty front seats. No one wants to publicly embarrass themselves on national television from seeing the prince, rewindable and replayable, forever seared into the internet.

It’s times like these you’re happy you’ve never been one to get starstruck. They’re all just people, why be shocked or surprised when they exist near you?

Opening up your books on your lap, you figure you can kill the next ten minutes in a productive way, considering what happened to your original plans for the mid morning.

And as you do, you feel the seats around you begin to fill, not a single one empty by the time the event starts.  Not even the ones up front.

A jerked movement catches your eyes and you see that two seats closer to the pedestal from Yuri is Adaline.

Great.

Adaline Dupree is basically a princess from the Eastern Shores. ‘Basically’ because she’s not, but she certainly acts like she is. A fake princess, an even bigger royalty hunter than your best friend and your not so secret arch nemesis.

She’s in your fine arts classes—all of them, unfortunately—her proper title being ‘Duchess of…’ some province you never bothered to learn the name of, and she’s one of the most well known people on campus.

Tall, with beautiful blonde hair, hazel eyes, freckles, a slim figure and quite the socialite. You’re surprised she went into fine arts and not modeling. She’s got the ego part of the job down pat.

Good for her for being pretty. But anyone could be beautiful on the outside with enough money and a surgeon. That’s not why you considered her your nemesis, you don’t give a shit about any of that.

She was your nemesis in the academic world. Because not only was she beautiful, she was also brilliant at her craft.

Which happened to also be your craft, and it pissed you off to no end.

Where you were first, she was second and where she was first, you were second. Always neck in neck with one another, always trying to one up each other.

You only considered yourself better than her because unlike her, you hoped at least, Adaline was a complete and total bitch. She took what she wanted without remorse and she wasn’t above sabotage to get it.

You learned that the hard way in your first year. And you’ve always wondered if that was her privileged upbringing speaking or if she’s just like that naturally, so unused to not getting what she wanted that she’d take it.

Therefore, it is of absolutely no shock to you that she’s sitting as close as she possibly can to where the prince will be standing. Directly in front of the pedestal at the base of the fountain in the center of the courtyard.

A door opens to your right followed by a couple screams, and you can only assume the man of the hour has arrived. A red camera light flicks on in your peripheral vision and you take that as your confirmation and cue to close your books.

The Dean of Schools, a few advisor looking people, a good handful of terrifyingly large security guards, and a head of black hair you conclude to be the prince all make their way towards their destination.

A smirk graces your face at all the girls batting eyelashes or screaming his name, as if that would get his attention. You’re about to mention that exact thought to Yuri, but you notice her eyelashes looking awfully similar to those around you and can’t help failing to stifle a laugh.

She catches it. “What?”

“Nothing,” you say. “You might just want to pick your jaw up off the ground.”

Her response gets cut off when a voice comes over the speakers.

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for such a warm welcome,” says the Dean, calm and assured. She knew exactly the welcome they'd receive. “I’ll keep my introduction short. Today, I present to you not only the newest addition to The Royal Academy of Business and Fine Arts, but the future King of our great nation. He has requested to formally address the student body before he starts classes this fall semester, so without further adieu: His Royal Highness, Prince Jeon Jungkook.”

Riigghht. Did you mention he was the prince of the country you’re living in?

Well…he is.

The crowd soars in volume once more, a couple “I love you’s” thrown in for good measure as the prince steps up and you zone out.

From your angle, you can see his whole body from the side, and that even though he’s holding cue cards, he doesn’t use them, placing them face down on the pedestal.

His dark hair is swept back in a suave styling and he’s wearing a simple navy long sleeve button up, black dress pants and matching leather shoes.

The outfit makes him look ever so princely and very much not like a student. More like one of the faculty.

However, what you don’t expect are the small patches of ink on his arm peeking out of his right sleeve. Or just how tight the clothes he wears are on his apparently very muscular form.

You remember Yuri’s words from earlier, only now registering. You knew he had muscles, no one ever shut up about them. But seeing them in person… wow.

You kind of want to sketch him—for anatomy practice, of course.

The prince begins his address to the crowd and an eerie silence replaces the roars from earlier. You take a quick look around and notice that not one person isn’t completely transfixed on him. Even the dean can’t keep her eyes off him.

You give him credit for not balking under the intense gazes of literally everyone. You know you sure as hell would have, never being one to like being the center of attention. At least, not like this.

You clue into his speech as you look back at him. He’s talking about how he found himself as a teenager thinking of what he wanted his future to look like and what he wanted to do with his schooling, which is not only why he took a couple years to explore the continent before enrolling, but why he will be doing a major and a minor at the school.

One for his career, and one for his heart.

You won’t admit to yourself that the sentiment very closely resonates with you.

He continues.

“All that said, I asked to address you all today for one very simple reason, being that, for my time here at the academy, I wish to be treated like any other student. I am not unaware of my celebrity and how I am seen to the outside world. It is not lost on me my place in the world and who I am to become. I know for some that it may be… difficult to see me for anything other than who I am, and this is why I ask you humbly, just for the short while that I’m here, you all treat me no differently than you already do one another,” he pauses for a moment. “I extend my request most deeply to those who will be studying alongside me in my business administration major and photography minor, as I don’t want it to affect my studies.”

Yuri slaps her hand down onto your leg causing you to jerk forward and you clamor to not drop any of your books. Business administration is her major. Her parents want her to take over the family biz after school.

That was probably why she partied so much. Living as much as she can before being thrust into a job she doesn’t want for the rest of her life.

Pity creeps back up your throat at the thought.

Jungkook notices your jerking movement, but only for a second. His eyes meet yours and you hope yours convey ‘sorry for interrupting’.

You may not care about him, but just like him you are not unaware of his status in the world outside the walls of your school.

Yuri, of course, thinks he’s looking at her and not only does her grip on your leg tighten to the point of circulation cut off, she returns to her earlier routine of batting her eyelashes.

You roll your eyes away from her sight, but unbeknownst to you, well within the gaze of Jungkook.

He suppresses a smile at your response to your friend's clear attempts to gain his attention.

You, on the other hand, seem indifferent to him. He has the entire student body watching his every move with hawk-like precision, enraptured. Normal, for him.

But you?

You just seem to… not care. Like he wasn’t anyone special. Like the word in front of his name meant nothing.

And if it wasn't the most freeing feeling he’s felt in a long time.

“Thank you so much for your time, and I’ll see you all around campus,” he finishes before stepping down, security wrapping around him again until he’s barely visible. The dean pops up to conclude the gathering but you aren’t paying attention anymore, too busy trying to peel Yuri’s hand off your thigh.

“Yuri, retract the claws please!” you whisper-yell to your friend. And she does in fact, retract instantly.

“Shit, sorry. My brain is running a million miles a minute,” she says as she pinches herself, shaking her head and smiling. “I’m three years ahead of him in his major. His major YN! But he’s still older than us, which is so hot. I'm so glad he did that tour in the east and whatever else that kept him back for a couple years, it makes this whole situation even better,” you start to worry at the look in her eye as she continues.

“What if he needs a tutor? What if I become his tutor, and we fall in love like a cliche romance movie. I could be the future queen. YN, this could actually happen for me. I could actually get the prince, it’s not some wild dream anymore. I could talk to him and he would talk back and this could happen.”

You can feel that she’ll just keep spiraling, nothing being able to stop her train of thought at this point, so you try your best to at least have her do her thinking in her head.

“Maybe! I wish you nothing but luck!” And you mean it. You don’t think it will happen the way she does, but you never know. And you don’t want to give her false hope.

You’ve always been the realist to Yuri’s optimist.

With the assembly over, most of the crowd files out of the courtyard quickly, prior plans calling to them or classes starting soon.

Only a few stragglers are left behind. You and Yuri are two of them, as well as Adaline, and a couple more you don’t know.

Security starts to spread out and you watch as Jungkook makes his way to the people farthest from you, much to their delight.

It’s a group of guys, all of whom look muscular enough to be varsity athletes. Maybe Jungkook will want to do sports while he’s here. You know that he’s an accomplished rugby player, greatly to his fathers dismay, but to the pleasure of anyone who has about $10 and has access to magazines or wifi.

“Oh my god he’s making his way over. Do. Not. Move. I want him to come to us,” Yuri says, forcing you to stay in your spot. It would be fruitless to try anything anyway. Another lesson you learned the hard way in first year.

She starts fluffing her hair and asking you to check her teeth. You do. She’s in the clear.

Unfortunately, you two would most likely be the last people he greeted, so you had to watch as he made his way down the line of people.

He greets the guys with a handshake and a clap to the back, and the girls with a kiss to the top of the hand.

One thing you notice as he meets more and more people is that everyone still calls him ‘prince’ or ‘your highness.’

It’s automatic for them, they’re not even thinking twice about it, but it’s also completely besides the point of half of his whole speech. He wanted to be treated like everybody else.

It especially irked you when it was Adaline’s turn and she put on her most feminine, formal, and ridiculously overly flirty, “Hello, Prince Jungkook,” before curtseying, blasting her full facade of charm and courteousness.

Ever the dainty, prim and proper duchess, she’s all small laughs and less than subtle flirting, never impolite, and never speaking out of turn.

You wanted to gag, and you’re quite sure that’s exactly what your face conveyed. But Jungkook smiles wide for her, and is as kind to her as he was to everyone else prior. He even flirts back a little bit.

Yeah, you definitely want to gag. What a match those two would make.

But just as soon as he greets Adaline and her friend, he politely steps away and moves on to you and Yuri.

“Hello ladies, what might your names be?” he asks ever so formally.

You gently laugh at being called a lady and Yuri shoots you a look. Jungkook doesn’t appear to take offense though.

“Hello, your highness!” Yuri chirps in the most ‘I'm trying to flirt but trying to not sound like I’m flirting’ voice you’ve ever heard her use. “My name is Yuri Yeun, and I’m actually a business admin major too, just a few years ahead.”

Jungkook lifts her hand to his mouth, giving it a light kiss and she looks like she’s about to explode.

“It’s lovely to meet you Yuri, I’ll look forward to seeing you around the halls,” he says in the same tone he’s used for everyone else. He’s about to face you, but Yuri cuts in quickly.

“If you ever need any help with your studies, just let me know. I’d be happy to help you with anything you might need help with. Having already been through it, I may be able to give a students insight versus a professors.”

“I’ll keep that in mind for the future. Thank you for your generosity.” Again that same tone, you mentally dub it his ‘greeting the public like the ever so good royal I am’ voice.

He turns to you and extends his hand for yours.

You reach for it, twisting it so that instead of a hand turned upright to be kissed, it’s a regular handshake. If he wanted to be treated like anyone else here, you sure as hell were going to.

“I’m YN, it’s nice to meet you Jungkook.” At the mention of his name untitled, he pauses, eyes widening ever so slightly. It’s not a bad pause, just a surprised one. And by the looks of the small smile on his face, a good one.

Yuri's eyes, on the other hand, almost bug out of her skull at your informal greeting.

“Likewise,” he manages to get out, completely unlike his usually composed self.

You're the only one who hasn’t addressed him with his title, and it’s the most like him he’s ever felt.

Twice in one day—in one hour—you’ve managed to make him feel more human and more like himself than he ever has. With your distinct indifference to him of all things.

Jungkook decides then and there he’s very sure he wants more of it in his life.

He still hasn’t stopped shaking your hand, and you don’t know why that’s the only thing you can focus on. His hand is firm and calloused, the kind that can only be built over years of hard work.

Releasing you the second you think it, he looks as if he hadn’t realized he was still holding on too.

Quick to step back into his princely role, Jungkook says, “Pardon my forwardness, but I just have to say that the two of you are beautiful, and that it’s been lovely to meet you both.”

You swear you see Yuri’s soul ascend from her body at his words. “Thank you, Your Highness! That means so much coming from someone as well met as yourself,” she nearly fawns, and you roll your eyes out of her sight for the second time today.

And for the second time today, Jungkook does not let the gesture go unnoticed. How you hold no fear in showing how you feel in front of others, even those you’ve just met. As if it holds no consequence. 

It doesn’t for you, he realizes. 

You can freely show how you feel without worry of anyone over-analyzing your every facial tic. No fear that a slight misuse of a lip quirk or eyebrow raise could give away national secrets or offend a visiting diplomat.

He envies you for it. For having that freedom he so rarely does.

“You’re most welcome, Yuri. I’m glad you hold my opinion in such high regard.” He flashes her that well practiced bright smile and you already know what she won’t be shutting up about it anytime soon.

“I’ve always been told I have my fathers bone structure but my mothers beauty. I’ll be sure to let them know their Prince thinks the combination is worth complimenting,” you respond, not braggadocious or sarcastic in the slightest.

You know it would make your mom so proud to hear the future king found you pretty, even if you knew the compliment was given to every girl here.

Your father wasn’t in the picture, but that didn’t matter and the prince didn’t need to know.

“I hope they won’t mind a stranger's compliment on their daughter then,” Jungkook says, ducking his head slightly and giving you a smaller smile.

This one felt genuine, like he wanted to hold it back but couldn’t. So you return a small one of your own, to let him know this was an even exchange. You may not feel any type of way about the prince, but you were raised to be kind.

“Any praise for their daughter from the future King would be welcomed any day, I’m sure,” Yuri cuts back in, killing his smile along with it.

You’re sad to see it go.

“I’m relieved to hear it,” he responds, princely public persona back on. Stupid flashy smile back on. “What will you two be heading off to do now?”

“What I wanted to be doing for the last half hour in the first place before being hauled down here by this one,” you point a thumb at Yuri. “Finishing my study hour at the library,” you add quickly, before Yuri can get out her answer. You almost wish you hadn't because the hand that had your thigh in a death grip earlier now only somewhat playfully swats your shoulder.

“YN!”

“What!? I’m just being honest. He wants to be treated like anyone else right? That comes with people being honest to you instead of glazing over their answers with pretty little white lies to appease you.”

Yuri looks ready to rip you a new one, but she’s cut off again before she can open her mouth. This time by the prince.

“No, no it’s okay,” Jungkook says before she can swat you again. She stops mid swing at his words, eyes as wide as saucers at being stopped. “YN’s right, I appreciate the honesty, and I apologize for the interruption. I hope your studies will not be too greatly affected because of it.”

“Guess we’ll find out during midterm season,” you say with a smirk that turns into a genuine smile as you see Jungkook look panicked, like he actually thinks he messed up your education by disturbing your study session.

Relief quickly replaces the panic when he sees your smile and realises it was a joke.

Being treated like a regular person also meant being joked with at their expense, and he takes it in stride as his small smile from earlier makes a comeback.

“Well I have class in half an hour,” Yuri says, finally answering his question, “So probably grabbing a coffee from the cafe near the biz-admin building… I could show you if you want?”

“That sounds great actually, I’m still trying to figure out where everything is.”

“Great! Let’s go.”

Jungkook, ever the gentleman, lifts an arm for her to take and you watch them walk off, Yuri absolutely beaming as she glances back at you. You give her a thumbs up before collecting your books and heading back in the direction of the library.

Chapter Two: Unknown Numbers and Sharp Tongues

A/N 2: and so it begins.

[kc-writes-sometimes]

Crown and Kin | Chapter Eight

Ao3 Account | Masterlist

Chapter Eight: Revelations

(Daemon’s POV)

Word Count: 3,513

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Original Female Character

Summary: Daemon navigates the growing complexities of fatherhood and his place in the ever-changing Red Keep. The delicate balance between duty and personal desire becomes clear as old alliances and hidden truths come to light. Daella, now embraced as a Targaryen, faces a new chapter in her life, while Daemon finds himself torn between his past and the responsibilities that come with his newfound role.

Themes & Warnings: 18+, Character Death, Rape/Non Con, Future Smut, Canon Typical Violence, Canon Typical Incest, Angst, Dad Daemon Targaryen, Bastards and Brothels, Fluff, Friends to Enemies to Lovers, Canon Divergence, Dysfunctional Family, Team Black Centric, Slow Burn, Eventual Romance

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Daemon Targaryen

“Is it not bedtime for you too?" Daella asked, her head tilted in confusion as she gazed up at Daemon, her violet eyes reflecting the dim light of the chamber.

Daemon smiled faintly, catching the quizzical look on her young face. There was something about the innocence of a child’s question that had the power to pierce through the world’s weight. “Not for me,” he replied, his voice firm yet laced with the warmth that had grown in him since Daella entered his life. “I have business outside the Keep. You’ll be fine, little one. A guard will be stationed right outside the door if you need anything. Now, get some rest.”

She continued to stare up at him with wide eyes, still unsure, as if sensing there was more to his late-night departure. Daemon hesitated for a brief moment, feeling the tug of something unfamiliar: the urge to stay. It gnawed at him, but duty—an old, familiar companion—called louder.

He leaned over and tucked a strand of dark silver hair behind her ear, his fingers brushing her warm skin. She didn’t flinch away, her trust in him already unspoken and complete. He stood back up, his towering figure momentarily casting a shadow over the oversized bed before he turned toward the door. The heavy wooden frame creaked as he closed it, but his hand lingered on the handle for a moment longer than necessary. His mind was awash in thoughts of her—no longer just a bastard girl from Flea Bottom, but his daughter. His blood.

They had been sharing his childhood chambers ever since Daella’s arrival at the Red Keep. It had been his idea to keep her close—he told himself it was simply for convenience, but the truth ran deeper. He found comfort in her presence, watching over her as she slept, the rise and fall of her little form under thick blankets a reminder of how fragile and important she had become to him. It was an unfamiliar feeling, this quiet protectiveness, but it had rooted itself firmly in him.

Fatherhood had a way of creeping up on even the most untamed of men. Daemon, known for his reckless abandon and disregard for attachments, now found himself caring for this little girl more than he had ever anticipated. She had become the single tether in a life that had long been untethered.

These chambers had always been his refuge from the swirling politics of the Red Keep, a place he had once found solace. Now, they served as a barrier from the growing Hightower influence. Every day, the Keep felt less like the seat of Targaryen power and more like a fortress of the Faith. Alicent’s grip on Viserys—and the Keep itself—was tightening, and despite Otto’s removal, her presence had only grown stronger. The Faith of the Seven had crept into every corner, displacing the symbols of Old Valyria. The walls, once adorned with dragons, were slowly being overtaken by depictions of the Seven’s icons. It was as if the very soul of the Red Keep was being eroded.

Daemon clenched his fists as he made his way through the corridors. His boots struck the cold stone floor with sharp, measured steps, each echo a reminder of the battle that was being fought within the Keep’s walls—a battle without swords or blood, but one that was just as dangerous. The few servants still awake lowered their heads as he passed, avoiding eye contact with the Rogue Prince, their wariness a reflection of his simmering temper.

Once outside, the cool night air hit his face, offering a momentary reprieve from the tension knotted in his chest. He inhaled deeply, letting the crisp breeze fill his lungs. For a moment, he stood still, gazing up at the moon as it hung high over King’s Landing, casting long shadows across the sleeping city. The streets below, though quieter at this hour, still thrummed with life—merchants peddling their last wares of the day, shadowy figures slinking through alleys, the distant clang of the harbour.

He tightened his cloak around him as he moved through the streets, his silver hair hidden beneath the black hood. To most, he was just another shadow slipping through the night, but to those who recognized him, his presence was unmistakable. His reputation preceded him—the Rogue Prince, the Lord of Flea Bottom. Names earned through years of rebellion, of pushing against the chains of authority that tried to bind him.

But there was something different about him now. His steps were no less purposeful, but the fire that had always driven him was tempered by something new. He was no longer just a man acting on his own whims; he had a daughter, a child who was both his responsibility and his legacy.

Daella.

Her name repeated itself in his mind, a steady rhythm that beat in time with his footsteps. The thought of her stirred emotions he had long buried. Fatherhood was not something he had ever sought out. He had lived his life without attachments, without ties to anyone or anything. But now, everything had shifted. She was his, and that simple fact had rearranged the very fabric of his life.

The familiar streets of Silk soon came into view, the tension in his body winding tighter as he neared his destination. He had not felt this particular brand of tension in some time. Mysaria awaited him—the White Worm. She had been many things to him over the years: lover, confidant, spy. Her network of whispers had proven invaluable more times than he cared to count, but lately, something had changed. There was a distance between them now, a suspicion that had begun to fester ever since Daella’s presence had been made known to him. Had Mysaria known? Had she kept the secret from him all these years?

Daemon’s thoughts burned with the question as he neared her compound. The White Worm had always known more than she revealed, her words laced with riddles and half-truths. But now, with Daella in his life, the stakes were higher. If Mysaria had known about Daella—had hidden it from him—there would be a reckoning.

As he approached the dimly lit entrance to her chambers, the guards at the door said nothing as he passed, their silence expected. They had seen him come and go too many times to question his presence.

Inside, the familiar scent of incense and spice greeted him, a mixture that clung to the air, heavy and intoxicating. Mysaria’s chambers were draped in silk, the flickering light of candles casting long shadows across the room. She was there, waiting for him, draped in her customary white, her pale face framed by the soft glow of the candles.

"Daemon," she purred, her Lysene accent curling seductively around his name. She reclined on a low couch, her eyes glinting with a mixture of amusement and curiosity. "You’ve come late tonight. What is it you seek from me?"

Daemon’s gaze was sharp, his patience worn thin. "You know why I’m here."

Her smile didn’t falter, but there was a flicker of something—uncertainty, perhaps—in her eyes. "There are many things I know, Prince. You’ll need to be more specific."

Daemon moved faster than she anticipated, his hand shooting out to grip her throat, pulling her close with a force that left no room for games. "Don’t play games with me, Mysaria," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "Did you know about Daella? Did you know I had a daughter?"

The tension in the room thickened, heavy with the weight of unspoken truths. Mysaria didn’t flinch, her dark eyes holding his without fear, though his grip tightened around her throat. "I knew there was a girl," she rasped, her voice just above a whisper. "But I did not know she was yours. Not at first."

Daemon’s eyes narrowed, his fingers pressing harder against her neck. "You’re lying."

"I’m not," she whispered, her voice hoarse but steady. "I didn’t know her parentage until recently."

With a sharp shove, Daemon released her, sending her sprawling back onto the cushions. He paced the room, his mind racing with the implications of her words. How many people had known the truth before him? How had it been hidden for so long?

Mysaria rubbed her throat, her eyes flickering with irritation, though her voice remained calm. "Daella was hidden well. Elyse kept her secret, and I only pieced it together when she was dead."

"Elyse," Daemon muttered, the name cutting through the air like a blade. "What did you know about her?"

Mysaria’s expression flickered, a brief moment of hesitation crossing her face before it vanished. "Elyse… was more than she appeared," she said slowly, her words carefully measured. "‘Elyse’ wasn’t even her real name. That was just the name she adopted when she came to King’s Landing."

Daemon’s brow furrowed, confusion tightening his features. "Then who was she?"

Mysaria sighed, leaning back into the cushions with a faraway look in her eyes. "I don’t know. She was secretive about her past. Our bond wasn’t built on trust, Daemon—it was born out of survival." Her fingers smoothed the silk of her dress absently before she turned her gaze back to him. "Did she ever tell you where she was from?"

"She said she was born in Dorne," Daemon answered, his voice tight, controlled. "A bastard. That’s all she told me."

A faint, knowing smile touched Mysaria’s lips, her eyes gleaming with something unspoken. "Dorne? No, but close. She was born in Volantis. And she wasn’t just any Volantene bastard, Daemon."

Daemon’s hand instinctively moved to the hilt of Dark Sister, his pulse quickening. "What are you implying?"

Mysaria’s tone softened, her voice more thoughtful now. "Did you never wonder why her hair and eyes were so… familiar? Did her manner never strike you as peculiar? The way she always had silver coins for the City Watch?" Her eyes watched him closely, as if trying to read his every reaction. "Both you and your brother saw something in her."

Daemon’s heart pounded in his chest, his mind racing. Elyse had always been a mystery, a puzzle he never bothered to solve. She had been beautiful, and he had enjoyed their time together, but she hadn’t mattered to him beyond that. Until now. Now, she was the mother of his child—his legacy.

"What are you saying?" he demanded, his voice low, though the question was more for himself than Mysaria.

"She was more than a simple woman from Volantis," Mysaria continued, her gaze never leaving his. "I don’t know the full story, but there were whispers that she had connections to families of influence"

"Enough, Mysaria!" Daemon barked, his voice filled with frustration as he resumed pacing, his boots echoing against the stone floor. The flickering candlelight cast jagged shadows on the walls, mirroring the chaos in his mind. "I don’t have time for your riddles. Speak plainly!"

Mysaria’s eyes followed him, her expression calm but unyielding. "Elyse wasn’t a common whore, Daemon," she said, her voice steady as she leaned back, watching his every move. "There were whispers before she started dying her hair—whispers that she was of Valyrian blood."

Daemon froze, the weight of her words settling over him like a heavy cloak. How had he not seen it? The dark silver hair, the striking purple eyes—traits Daella now bore. He should have known. Perhaps, on some level, he did. Perhaps he just didn’t care. After all, one silver-haired whore was as good as another in King’s Landing.

His fists clenched at his sides, his anger surging through him like wildfire. "Why didn’t she tell me any of this?" he muttered, more to himself than to Mysaria. "Why keep Daella from me?"

Mysaria tilted her head slightly, her sharp eyes softening just a touch. "I can’t answer that for certain, but perhaps she feared what it would mean for Daella—for you. Perhaps Elyse thought it best to keep Daella hidden, to raise her as a child should be raised, away from the prying eyes of the court. She didn’t want Daella used as a pawn."

Daemon let out a bitter laugh, though the sound was devoid of humour. "And look where that got her. Dead. And Daella? A scared, lonely child living in the squalor of a brothel, so terrified that when the maid washed the dye out of her hair she nearly ripped her own hair out." His voice grew harsher, the bitterness seeping into every word. "You could have told me this sooner. You could have done something! You could have let me help her."

Mysaria’s eyes hardened at his accusation. "And what would you have done, Daemon? Elyse feared what your involvement would bring. She didn’t want Daella to live in the shadow of your name. She didn’t want her past or yours to devour the child."

Daemon spun toward her, his eyes blazing with anger. "I could’ve saved her!" His voice broke, just for a moment. "I could’ve kept Elyse alive."

Mysaria held his gaze, her own eyes reflecting the weight of the secrets she had kept. "Would it have changed anything, Daemon?" she asked quietly, her tone almost regretful. "Elyse made her choices."

Daemon’s jaw tightened, his fury simmering beneath the surface. Elyse’s secrets—the ones Mysaria had revealed and the ones that had died with her—no longer mattered. What mattered now was Daella. His daughter.

"Daella is my daughter," Daemon muttered fiercely, his voice low but resolute. "Whatever blood runs through her veins doesn’t change that."

Mysaria’s expression softened once more, her familiar tone slipping back into place. "Be careful, Daemon. The past has a way of catching up to all of us."

Daemon stepped closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous growl. "If you’ve kept anything else from me, anything at all, you won’t live long enough to regret it."

Mysaria met his gaze, the tension between them taut as a drawn bowstring. "I’ve told you what I know," she said evenly, her tone calm yet unyielding.

For a long moment, Daemon’s eyes lingered on hers, the weight of unspoken threats thick in the air. But he said nothing more. With one final, cold glance, he turned and stormed out of her chambers, the door slamming shut behind him. As he passed through the familiar streets, Mysaria’s compound fading into the distance, Daemon felt the weight of his life shifting. He had been the Rogue Prince for so long—untethered, wild, a force unto himself. But now, he was something more.

He was a father. A protector. A force to be reckoned with, not just for himself but for Daella. His daughter. His future.

By the time Daemon reached the Red Keep, the sun had already begun its slow rise over the city. The early morning light cast long shadows across the courtyard, and servants bustled about, preparing for the day. But Daemon moved through them with a newfound sense of purpose. Nothing—not the past, not the whispers, not even the enemies lurking in the shadows—would take Daella from him.

He could picture her now, awake and preparing for her first lesson. He had arranged for the Maester to begin teaching her High Valyrian, as every true Targaryen should learn. Soon, she would know how to read, how to write, how to stitch and play music. She would learn the history of their house, the names of the great lords, and the powers they wielded. And one day, when the time came, he would teach her to ride a dragon and hold a sword, just as he did.

As Daemon walked through the gardens, heading toward his chambers, he spotted Rhaenyra in her usual spot beneath the weirwood tree. She sat with a heavy tome in her lap, her brow furrowed in concentration.

His footsteps were almost silent as he approached, though Rhaenyra, sharp as ever, glanced up from her book. Her violet eyes narrowed slightly, her gaze sharp as it landed on him.

"Back so soon, uncle?" Rhaenyra’s voice cut through the quiet of the Godswood, her tone laced with sarcasm, though beneath it was a softer edge, almost teasing.

Daemon smirked, but didn’t respond immediately. His eyes lingered on her, taking in the way the morning light caught in her hair, making it gleam like molten silver. Even in the simplicity of the Godswood, she looked regal, carrying herself with a natural majesty that both captivated and irritated him. She reminded him too much of himself.

"I had business to attend to," he finally replied, his voice neutral, though there was an unmistakable edge to it. A subtle tension simmered beneath his words, one she hadn’t heard before. "Not that it’s any concern of yours."

Rhaenyra closed the book resting on her lap, setting it aside gently as she met his gaze, her eyes sharp, searching. She could read him too well, sensing the storm beneath his calm exterior. "And what business was so pressing that it kept you out all night?" Her voice was light, but her eyes—hard, inquisitive—demanded answers.

Daemon’s lips curled into a sly grin. "You know me, Rhaenyra. I don’t answer to anyone."

"Not even my father?" she shot back, her tone sharpening like a blade. "Or is it just me you feel the need to play games with?"

The tension between them, simmering for so long, flared like fire meeting oil. Daemon’s smirk faded, his expression darkening as he stepped closer, looming over her. She remained seated under the weirwood, regal and unmoved, but his presence was undeniable.

"Viserys has always been weak," Daemon said, his voice low, heated. "And you—"

"What about me?" Rhaenyra interrupted, rising to her feet, her book forgotten as she faced him. "Do you think me weak, uncle?"

For a moment, the Godswood fell silent, the only sound the rustling of leaves in the breeze. Daemon’s eyes flashed with something unspoken—longing, regret, or perhaps both. He had always been drawn to her, admiring her fire, her defiance. Yet the distance between them had grown wider, especially since that night in the city.

"You’re far from weak," Daemon said at last, his voice softer now, though the roughness remained. "But you’re playing a dangerous game, Rhaenyra. One you’re not ready for."

Rhaenyra scoffed, her eyes blazing with defiance. "And you think you know everything, don't you? You think you can decide what I'm ready for?" She stepped closer, her chin tilted upward, but there was a flicker of something else in her eyes—hurt, frustration. "Do you think I didn’t know what I was doing that night?"

Daemon’s jaw tightened, his gaze locking with hers. "You were a girl playing at being a woman, Rhaenyra. You didn’t understand what you were stepping into."

Rhaenyra’s hands clenched into fists at her sides. "I understood more than you give me credit for," she shot back, her voice trembling slightly, though she stood firm. "You didn’t force me to do anything. I wanted to see your world. I wanted to be free."

"Free?" Daemon echoed, his voice a low growl, almost a sneer. "You’ll never be free, Rhaenyra. Not as long as you’re tied to the Iron Throne."

"And neither will you," she snapped, her voice cutting through the tension like a knife. "You may pretend you don't care—that you're some rogue prince who doesn’t need the throne—but I see you, Daemon. You're just as trapped as the rest of us."

Daemon’s eyes flickered with something dark, something dangerous, as he stepped closer. His voice dropped, almost a whisper. "Perhaps," he admitted, "but I know how to bend the rules when it suits me."

Rhaenyra held her ground, her breath quickening as he loomed over her. She could feel the heat of his body, the scent of smoke and leather clinging to him. For a brief, reckless moment, Rhaenyra reached out, brushing her fingers against his chest, her touch light, almost daring. Daemon’s hand shot up, catching her wrist in a firm yet controlled grip. His eyes bore into hers, a smirk tugging at his lips once again.

"You shouldn’t provoke me, niece," he whispered, his voice rough, filled with a challenge that sent a shiver down her spine.

Rhaenyra’s lips parted, her defiance wavering as the fire between them burned hotter. "And what will you do if I do?" she asked, her voice barely a breath.

Daemon’s grip on her wrist tightened, just enough to remind her of his strength. He leaned in ever so slightly, their faces mere inches apart. His breath was warm against her skin, his presence overwhelming, and the tension between them reached its breaking point.

"Father?"

The voice was small, hesitant, cutting through the charged moment like a splash of cold water. Daemon turned sharply, releasing Rhaenyra’s wrist as he looked toward the source.

Daella stood a few feet away, her violet eyes wide with confusion as they flicked between Daemon and Rhaenyra. Her dark silver hair cascaded around her shoulders, and she seemed so small, so innocent, standing there in the soft light of the Godswood.

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[jeonsweetpea]

Moonstruck (15) - Final Chapter

Werewolf & Vampire Hybrid!AU, Supernatural!AU | Hybrid!Jungkook x Hybrid!Reader | Werewolf!Taehyung x Hybrid!Reader (ft. BTS)

genre: angst, e2l, supernatural, thriller, slow burn

rating: mature

description: Heavy decisions fall on you when Taehyung throws you one last curveball. Do you say goodbye or do you stay?

word count: 10.2k

warnings: contains SPOILERS!!! Multiple POV changes, compulsion, mention of blood, mention of death, it’s very angsty, the ending is bittersweet – pls understand i poured my heart into this and it’s okay not to like it or comment about it, i tried to cover all plot holes :)

a/n: This is the final chapter of my series Moonstruck. I’ve been writing this story on and off for YEARS, so if you’ve stuck around this long, thank you! I’m aware people might be upset at the ending and that’s okay! My OC isn’t perfect and the point is she chose her own happiness for once. Please be kind, as I plan to write an epilogue in the future that can also be read as a stand-alone (with all the werewolf smut a reader could dream of lol).

Moonstruck Series Masterlist

“Let me go to Jimin. Please.”

Her voice was frail, broken, desperate. You caved into her pleas, seeing as she was in no condition to fight. Whatever happened between her, Jimin, and Jungkook must’ve been brutal. It’s amazing she was still standing, but as she limped towards her lover, her legs gave way from exhaustion.

Still, she persisted and crawled the remaining distance to hold her dying boyfriend in her arms. You walked over to them, finding the moment tender and beautiful despite the circumstances. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll fix everything,” she said, smiling through her tears. Jimin could barely utter her name, but she shushed him. “Save your strength.”

She pulled out an artifact from her pocket that you recalled from your studies and gasped. 

“Is that…?” you started to say. She didn’t answer you and looked up towards the sky. You followed her gaze to see streaks of shooting stars across the velvet night sky. 

“Tonight’s a meteor shower,” Ari said, as if she was anticipating it. “A celestial event will fix everything.”

You tore your gaze away from the sky to see blood dripping from her nose onto the circular artifact. From what you remembered, it was called an Ascendant. Combined with the blood from a Choi witch and the cosmic power of a celestial event, a portal to a prison world was possible. 

“No. You’re not serious!” you exclaimed. 

“It’s the only way to save him,” she said, running a hand through his hair with a fond expression. “To save us.”

“So what? You’re going to live out the rest of your days with someone who doesn’t even love you?! He’s going to die over and over. That’s not a way to live.”

Prison worlds were just that — a hell with no escape. Death was a pleasure one wasn’t able to experience there. It was a place for banishment, home for the worst of the worst. 

Ari looked you dead in the eye. “He’s my first love. I intend to be his last.”

In this moment, you knew this was your best friend talking and not some demented evil version of her. She was dying because Jimin was dying and if she wanted to be tethered to a prison world the rest of her days, who were you to stop her?

Almost as if she could hear your thoughts, she added, “I’ve done too much to be forgiven for. Let me go.”

She deserved it. She deserved to rot there with him. So you weren’t going to deny her wishes, only prolong them. You bent down and swiped the Ascendant from her hand, holding it hostage. 

“No.” Your voice was unwavering. She stared at you aghast, like you committed the most terrible sin.

“[Y/N]!”

“You want to abandon all the problems you exacerbated? No. I’m tired of this bullshit. If anyone gets to run away from this mess, it’s me. Now you better give me a solution…” You held the artifact high, threatening to smash it into smithereens. “Or else.”

“Stop, stop!” she begged.

“I’m waiting. The meteor shower will be over soon. Tick. Tock.”

She glanced down at Jimin, reaching her hand up to his neck to grab the amulet. With a forceful tug, she yanked it off him and handed it to you.

“Here! This will solve everything. I promise!”

You took the amulet from her, your eyes watching her every movement in case she tried to pull something. “How?”

“I sense someone trapped within it. Someone who has an energy signature similar to you… I’m not sure, but I think it’s your father.”

Your entire body froze. “How is that possible? How do I release him?”

A faint click sound captured your attention. You lowered your hand and stared at the Ascendant, watching the gears rotate into place, the cosmic energy from the meteor shower beaming straight into it. A relieved smile graced Ari’s features as she closed her eyes. 

“No, wait!” You were too late. A bright flash temporarily blinded you and once you opened your eyes again, Ari and Jimin had vanished, leaving behind only a burned Ascendant. 

Mora Miserium…

Ari’s words rang loud in your ears, though you had no idea what they meant.

However, the amulet was still in your hand. You dangled it in front of you, paying attention to its alluring glow. It seemed to shine brighter the closer it was to your face, like it was attracted to something. You realized your moonstone was reacting to it, so you placed them near each other, igniting a burst of energy that knocked you backwards. Groaning, you sat up to see a figure manifest before your very eyes—a ghost you never thought you’d see again as your eyes flooded with tears.

“Dad…?”

“My little miracle… come here.”

You stumbled while getting up and rushed into his warm embrace, crying your heart out. 

“Where have you been all this time? I missed you so much. I lost my best friend and—and—” You hiccuped from talking so fast. He held you by the shoulders. “I know, sweetheart. I know. I was in your necklace. Trapped, actually.”

“But how?”

“Nevermind that. I’ll take Jungkook to the infirmary. You go release the professors, Hoseok, and Jiwoo. I’ll explain everything.”

You obeyed your father’s instructions, releasing everyone from their cages in the underground cellar. Everyone was quick to ask you what was going on, the noise unbearable. There were too many questions, apologies, concerns — the chaos finally stopped when your father appeared after dropping Jungkook off. 

“[F/N]...” Jin and Yoongi embraced your father tight, afraid it was a dream. Once they released him, Hoseok and his sister gave an awkward introduction but were friendly nevertheless. 

“Where the hell have you been?” Yoongi asked, giving him a punch in the arm. Your father, quick with his reflexes, caught his fist. 

With a soft smile, he replied, “In [Y/N]’s moonstone,” Jin dropped his jaw so wide that it almost made you laugh. “I know, I know. It’s a lot. But let’s heal the injured first. I took Jungkook to the infirmary and patched him up. [Y/N]?”

“Yes, Dad?”

“Heal Namjoon. I know he’s treated you awfully and you don’t have to forgive him—”

“But he was compelled,” you said, finishing his statement. “So everything that’s happened… isn’t his fault. I’ll heal him.”

You bit your wrist, devoid of the pain it usually brought and lowered yourself to Namjoon’s limp body on the ground. You lifted his head gently, placing your wrist on his mouth and making sure he was ingesting it. 

“He’ll be fine after some rest,” you said, standing up. 

“Thank you, [Y/N],” Yoongi said, though you didn’t bother sparing him a glance. “I know I should’ve told you about releasing Hoseok but—”

“I don’t want to hear it.” He nodded in understanding and you turned to your father. “Dad, what are we going to do? Jungkook and Taehyung’s lives are linked.”

“What?!” Everyone aside from you and your father was stunned. God, you needed a newsletter or something to keep them all up to date.

“Yeah, yeah,” you said with a dismissive hand gesture. “I’ll explain that later but for right now, I need to unlink them because if one more bad thing happens, I will turn off my humanity again. What can you tell me about Mora Muserium?”

He seemed astonished by the mention of it. “That’s an ancient artifact witches use to remove dark magic and have it contained. I was traveling the world to find it for you, hoping it’d remove the dark magic and help you regain fertility.”

You glared at him and he cleared his throat. 

“I know,” he said, scratching the nape of his neck. “Father of the year right here. I should’ve told you the truth.”

“I’m guessing you didn’t find it.”

“No. I had to find an alternative. There was a witch who gave me the moonstone but said its powers only activate if a werewolf sacrifices his soul.”

“Oh my god,” Hoseok said, placing a hand on his heart. “You were willing to stay inside the stone for the rest of your life if it meant [Y/N] could have children?”

He nodded while giving you a fond smile. “Anything for my little girl. She deserves a life with her needs fulfilled.” Your dad suddenly snapped his head in Hoseok’s direction. “But then you killed her.”

Hoseok held his hands up in surrender while Jiwoo stood in front of him, her protective nature taking over. “Hey. He was manipulated into doing so to save me.���

“Still. The moonstone is useless now for fertility,” your father huffed. 

“Can we please get back to the Mora Muserium?” you said, wanting to pull your hair out from frustration. “We don’t have much time. Taehyung died with my blood in his system and will need to drink it again to complete his transformation. If not, he’ll die and take Jungkook with him!”

“How did their lives become linked?” Jin questioned. 

“The night of the banquet we drank some alcohol that Ari gave us.”

“It must have been dark magic. If we can get the Mora Muserium, we can use it to absorb the dark magic out of Jungkook and sever the connection.”

“Great. But where can we find it? What does it look like?”

“I think I’ve seen it before,” Yoongi chimed in. “It looks like a sand clock of sorts. Like an hourglass.”

“Yes. But the one I was looking for was sold to a private collector,” your father informed.

“I’ve seen it…” The groggy voice came from the floor. Jin rushed to Namjoon’s side, helping him sit up. Aside from the dried blood from his nose, his wounds had lightened and were in the process of healing. “Jimin’s parents. They own an armory full of artifacts. I saw one that looked like an hourglass the day I helped him get the White Oak stake.”

“I’ll go. Tell me the address,” your father stated. “I’m taking Jungkook with me.”

“What? He’s knocked out and needs time to recover.” Your protest fell on deaf ears.

“It’s the least he can do for you. Besides, it gives me time to get to know him. A little heart-to-heart.” He patted your head. “Don’t worry. I’ll wait for him to wake up. You go take care of that bite wound and rest. All of us should rest.”

Jungkook’s Point of View - 12 Hours Later

I woke up in the infirmary sore as hell. Sitting up only exacerbated things, the pain surging through me like fire. My torso was wrapped in bandages and my arm was in a sling. The battle with the bitch witch would’ve gone sideways if Jimin didn't intervene. I barely made it out with my life.

“You’re awake, boy.”

The voice was gruff, unfamiliar. I saw a silhouette from behind the privacy curtain, but I didn’t feel threatened. I could tell he was a werewolf from his scent. 

“Who are you?”

He pulled back the curtain, revealing his face to me. He was far older than me, with streaks of gray in his hair. His stern expression intimidated the shit out of me, but after giving me a once over, his eyes softened and his forehead creased with wrinkles of concern.

“I’m [F/N]. [Y/N]’s dad.”

“Oh,” Shit. This was not how I envisioned meeting him. “She has your eyes.”

A soft chuckle came out of him. “I get that a lot.” He pulled up a chair to sit by my side, the smell of cedarwood filling my nose. “Look, I know a lot has happened around here. I’ve been trapped in that damn moonstone for months.”

I looked at him in horror. “You mean the necklace [Y/N] has? That means you’ve seen…”

I trailed off, but he seemed to understand what I was getting at. He waved his hand in a dismissive manner, his face twisted in disgust. “Yes, yes, there’s a lot I did not wish to see but anyway… not the point. Honestly, part of me wants to strangle you for hurting her.”

I knew my time had to come sometime. Better him than someone else. I closed my eyes and braced myself. 

“But…” He continued, “You and my daughter have been through hell and back. You protected her. Thank you.”

I opened my eyes, trying not to exhale in relief too loudly. “I always will.”

“Do you love her?”

“I do.” My response was so fast; it sounded automated. I noticed [F/N]’s eyes narrowing at me, like he was searching for doubt. 

“Why?”

If I took too long coming up with an answer, that would only make me look ingenuine. I spoke from my heart, keeping my voice steady even though he looked like he could tear me in half at any moment’s notice.

“For the first time in a while, I feel like I can think clearly. The sire bond was like a crutch that made it impossible for me to distinguish my own feelings from [Y/N]’s,” I said, watching for his reaction. He nodded for me to continue. “Now that it’s severed, I feared I would stop loving her. That it was all an illusion. But that’s not the case. I know I love her. So much that it scares me…”

“Even if she’s infertile?”

“I already knew about that. It does not affect how I feel.”

“What about Jimin?”

I’d be damned if I saw that wretched vampire ever again. He manipulated everyone, especially me. Like an idiot. “What about him?”

“You chose to believe his words over my daughter’s. I want to know why.”

He might as well have broken my other arm. I fought the urge to throw up. What did he want me to say? That I was an idiot, that I was manipulated, that I was doubting her because I was a coward?  “I don’t know.”

“Answer me.” He was telling, not asking. But I was stubborn. 

“I said I don’t know.” I did know, of course. However, I didn’t want to shoot myself in the foot. Anything I said would sound like a pathetic excuse.

“Gonna take it to the grave? You don’t have much time left.”

He laughed at my stunned face, as if mocking me. “What do you mean?”

“Your life is linked to that other wolf’s. [Y/N] mentioned something about the night of the banquet where you drank liquor.”

Taehyung. Fuck, fuck, fuck! No wonder that bastard was so elated when I returned. That must have been why I blacked out after clawing him. Though my body was already on the verge of collapsing from the constant battling. 

“Anyway, I’ll get straight to the point,” [F/N]’s said as he stood up. “Taehyung died with my daughter’s blood in his system thanks to you. That means he’s in the middle of transitioning to becoming a hybrid.”

“But it’s incomplete…” I whispered. He nodded, crossing one arm over the other.

“He needs to drink her blood one more time after coming back to life to become a hybrid. If not, he will die. Which in turn means you will die.”

“I gotta see [Y/N].” I practically ripped the covers off me with my good arm, swinging my legs off the cot. However, he placed a firm hand on my shoulder.

“You’re in no condition to leave.”

“She’s going to do whatever it takes to save me, including saving that son of a bitch. He’ll be sired by her, which is what he wants!”

“Yes, but would you rather be dead than see him sired by her? Think straight for a second. We have a mission.”

“What mission?”

“We’re going to go artifact hunting and I need that compulsion ability of yours to succeed. Then I’ll consider letting you see my daughter.”

Of course there was something else. There always was.

Your Point Of View - 12 Hours Later

You slept like a log. Your body was worn down, weathered by the stress and trauma the universe kept sending your way. The only reason you woke up was because your sharp ears picked up the sound of digging. At first, you tried to ignore it. But it was consistent and your curiosity got the best of you.

“Put your back into it,” Yoongi said, sitting on the snow criss-crossed. Jin huffed and set the shovel aside. 

“This would go a lot faster if you helped!” He turned around to see you appear out of nowhere. “Ah fuck! Oh my god, [Y/N]! You scared me.”

“Sorry. You woke me from my sleep.” You stared down at the wide chasm he dug, the body inside instantly recognizable. “Is that…?”

“Yes. It’s Sunghyun,” Yoongi said. “We wanted to give him a proper burial.”

“I’ll help,” you offered. Jin and Yoongi gave each other a look but said nothing. Jin handed you the other shovel, giving you a gentle smile. 

“Thanks.”

“Where’s Hoseok and his sister?” you asked.

“Still sleeping,” Yoongi answered.

“And my dad?”

“He went to find the Mora Miserium with Jungkook.”

“Namjoon? Taehyung?”

“Infirmary. Taehyung’s chained up in the caves. Jungkook really fucked him up; he’s still knocked out,” Jin said, releasing a grunt as he dug. 

There wasn’t any more conversation after that. Once Sunghyun’s grave was filled, Yoongi used a piece of wood as a makeshift headstone until he could get a proper one. He had etched Sunghyun’s name into it with a pocket knife and you all said your prayers. 

“He saved my life,” you said, taking out the amulet from your pocket. “Especially with this. I wanted this buried with him but the risks…”

“He’d understand,” Jin said, reassuring you. “He wouldn’t want the wrong person to get their hands on it. We can frame it or you can keep it.”

You stared at the amulet in your hands, contemplating what to do with it. Then your eyes lit up as you took your moonstone necklace off. Last time the two pendants touched, there was an explosion. But what if this time…

“Can you fuse the two necklaces together? I think they’re connected.”

Jin cracked his knuckles. “Easy peasy.”

He chanted some words in Latin, moving his hands in the air around the two pendants as you held them. Then with one final snap, the stones fused together to create a double moon necklace. Jin grinned at his work and then proceeded to help you put the necklace back on.

“It suits you,” Yoongi remarked. The three of you headed back towards campus, the snow crunching beneath your feet. “I’m sorry.”

You stared at the professor, shaking your head. “Please don’t.”

He stopped walking, so Jin followed his example. You sighed, halting your footsteps as well. 

“I’m sorry too,” Jin said.

“I don’t want to hear apologies. I just want this to end. Okay?” You interrupted them before they had a chance to say more. “I know. You released Hoseok because you love him. And you recorded my sessions because I don’t know, documentation? It’s fine.”

The two men couldn’t bear to look at you, so they opted for looking at the ground instead.

“How do you intend for this to end?” Yoongi said, his voice soft, as if you could be set off at a moment’s notice. “Do you… have a plan?”

You dropped your shoulders, not realizing how tense they were. “I don’t know. Dad gets the artifact, we sever the link, Jungkook gets to live.”

“And Taehyung?” Jin said, trying not to sound nervous. “What about him? Will you give him your blood or…”

He trailed off, but you filled in the blanks pretty easily. “Let him die? That’s what you want to know. You’re my professors… Why should the decision fall on me? Haven’t I been through enough?”

You scoffed, shaking your head in frustration. 

“I can’t do this right now,” you said. Yoongi and Jin let you walk away, not having the heart to stop you. 

Namjoon’s Point of View

Vampire blood was one thing, but hybrid blood? It accelerated my healing three times as fast. I was pretty much back to normal after a good long rest. Hoseok and his sister woke up fifteen minutes ago, keeping me company in the infirmary. We played a game of cards while catching up.

And boy, did I have a shit ton to catch up on. Truth be told, my memory was fuzzy ever since the night Jimin and I went out in search of [Y/N]. I remember him being so eager to help; I thought it was sweet. But I lowered my guard too easily and paid the price. He whacked me in the head with something hard and next thing I knew, I was tied up.

Hoseok was able to piece things together from there and I quickly changed the subject, asking about him and his sister. It was admirable how everything he’s done was for her. For [Y/N] too. He was simply trying to protect everyone, and though his execution was poor, he had good intentions. 

“So… Yoongi, huh?” I asked. Hoseok dropped the cards on my cot, retracting himself into a shy ball. His sister giggled when his cheeks reddened.

“He’s all my brother talks about,” She lowered her voice to a funny octave, mimicking Hoseok as best as she could. “I miss Yoongi. I wanna be with Yoongi. I’m Yoongi’s vitamin.”

I let out a hearty laugh, feeling a weight off my chest for the first time in a while. Hoseok whined at Jiwoo’s teasing, and she patted his head while smiling. 

“Do you think [Y/N] will ever forgive me?” I asked. Hoseok stared at me like I had insulted him.

“Forgive you? Dude, I killed her and caused her to never be able to have children again. She’ll forgive you.”

“She’ll forgive you too,” Jiwoo assured. “You were being coerced. You didn’t want to kill her.”

Two knocks came from the door. We all glanced up to see [Y/N] step in, her head hung low. 

“Am I interrupting?”

I could barely hear her, but Hoseok answered with a quick, “No, you’re not interrupting. Do you need us?”

“I… I want to talk to Namjoon.”

I was gobsmacked to the point where Hoseok and Jiwoo gave me a look, as if they were telepathically asking me if it was okay. 

“Yeah, yeah, come over. Would you two mind giving us some privacy?” Jiwoo was quick to leave, but Hoseok gave me a gentle squeeze on my shoulder first. Once the siblings closed the door behind them, [Y/N] stood in front of me without moving. She fidgeted with the hem of her shirt, her eyes pointed to the ground. 

“Sit down,” I said, trying to sound like a gentle giant and not an authoritative douche. She finally made eye contact with me and then in the blink of an eye, her arms were around me. My body stilled. “[Y/N]?”

“I… I want my friend back,” she said, voice slightly shaky. My muscles relaxed and I hugged her back tightly, wanting her to know I was there for her.

“I’m here, I promise,” Poor girl was trembling. “You can cry. Let it all out.”

She did. First it was small sniffles, which gradually became much louder sobbing. I held her close, rubbing soothing circles on her back. I wanted to tell her so much, apologize for everything, but only after she was ready to hear it. I didn’t care how long she needed to cry; I just wanted to be there for her.

“I think I’m ready to talk now… I have a lot to ask. A lot to say.”

She was sitting at the foot of my bed now. “Go ahead. I’m listening.”

“You’re you?” I couldn’t blame her for being cautious. I taught her as much. “You have to be you… Jimin is no longer a part of this world, so the compulsion must’ve worn off.”

“Did you…” I trailed off, but she shook her head.

“Ari took him to the prison world with her.”

“Whoa…” I didn’t know what to say other than I shouldn’t be surprised. Those two deserve each other for eternity. 

“You really thought I’d kill him?” Her words were sharp, laced with offense. 

I sat up straight. “No, I just didn’t know what happened to him. Once he was gone, it was like my mind felt clear. Like I had control again. I know you wouldn’t kill him unless it was out of self-defense. Actually, even if it wasn’t out of self-defense, I wouldn’t have blamed you. No one would have.”

She bit her lip, a nervous habit of hers when lost in deep thought. “The only person I’ve ever killed was my childhood abuser. It still haunts me. That weight of taking someone’s life is soul-crushing, Joon. Even if he deserved it.”

Her shoulders drooped as she said the next part. “What do I do about Taehyung?”

Ah. That was a very good question indeed. He’s done unforgivable things, his intentions stemming from obsession. Obsession over her. His past record with his last love interest wasn’t any better either. That wolf was dangerous.

“What do you want to do about him?”

She scoffed, as if she knew I would say that. “I don’t know. That’s why I came to you. You’ve killed countless supernatural beings, humans too. Why do I have to decide?”

Valid point. I was a hunter first, headmaster second. But she was only a student, my apprentice, still a kid in my eyes. Always a fighter, never a killer. “Once the link between him and Jungkook is severed, you don’t have to give him your blood. He’ll die of natural consequences. It wouldn’t be your fault.”

“But he’d suffer.”

“Isn’t that what he deserves?”

“You thought Jimin deserved a second chance. Are some people not redeemable?”

“It sounds like you want him to be.”

She covered her face with both hands. “No. I just—he’s a student. And it’s because of his love for me that this got so out of hand. It’s my fault…”

“Stop. None of this is your fault,” She dropped her hands, a sad pout on her lips. “I’ll do it. I’ll put Taehyung out of his misery, so you don’t have to. It’ll be on me.”

“You’re the headmaster. You took him in. You think… he deserves to die?”

“I think he deserves what you think is fitting. Because he’s the one who wronged you. But I’m more than willing to make the hard choice for you if you choose to do nothing.” She hopped off the cot, pacing back and forth in the room. I removed the covers off me and swung my legs off the edge of the bed. “Hey… you don’t have to save everyone.”

That got her to stop. “But I do… my blood is cursed to do so.”

“Listen, I’ve tried to save everyone. Every student. I see so much potential, it’s overwhelming. But some people can't be saved no matter what you do and that’s okay.”

I stood up, but my legs stumbled clumsily. [Y/N] caught me and swung my arm over her shoulder. 

“See? I’m a natural at saving others.”

It was good to hear her make a joke, even a small one. I smiled. “Ultimately it’s up to you. I’ll support whatever you do.”

Your Point of View

You set Namjoon back on the cot, joining him as you two dangled your legs off the edge. Well, yours dangled while his feet stayed planted on the ground. 

“There’s only one thing I know for sure…” you said. Namjoon placed his hands in his lap, awaiting your answer. “When this is all over, I have to do what’s best for me. And that means—”

“You have to leave.”

It felt like deja vu of your previous conversation where he said he was letting you go. Except this time, you were choosing it yourself. 

“Yeah… you actually gave me the idea first. I realized you were right.”

His tone shifted to a more grave one. “I’ll be honest. I probably said many things to you while I was under Jimin’s influence. I don’t remember much after he knocked me out while we went out searching for you. Bastard tied me up and waited until the vervain was out of my system to compel me. Stole my ring too.”

“But…?”

“But…” He sighed. “I made a promise to you and your parents that I’d always look out for you except it’s not healthy for you to be here anymore.” He placed his hand on your own, squeezing it gently. “You were always the right person, but this is the wrong place. I have to let you go because you deserve peace.”

“Namjoon…” You already cried your heart out once, so you refrained from tearing up again. His gaze on you was affectionate, protective, but also solemn. 

“I’ll get all the stuff ready for you to graduate early. Anything you need, I’ll do it. Just know you are always welcome here.”

Shit. It looked like he was about to cry. You’ve never seen him like this, so you did the only thing that might bring him some comfort.

“I love you, Namjoon. Thank you for taking care of me all these years.”

He let out a small wheeze from trying to reply to you while keeping his emotions in check. “I love you too. And I’m sorry for everything.”

“I know. But I have a way you can make it up to me.”

Taehyung’s Point of View

I woke up to find myself chained. Not only were my wrists and ankles bound, but there was a collar around my neck too. The chains clinked when I charged forward, but I didn’t get very far since they were attached to the wall. A hole in the ceiling allowed some sunlight in, but it did little to stop the cold winter air. At least someone put me in sweatpants before confining me here.

I wracked my brain to remember my last memory. Ah. Right. I was clawed to death, which was extremely gruesome and sucked ass. However, it would be worth it. She was worth it. 

Were my methods unorthodox? Yes. A bit insane? Absolutely. But when you’re in love, you do stupid things. We should have never broken up, but I was overly jealous and she was a stunner. She could have any guy, so I had to do whatever it took to make her choose me.

I wanted her to keep choosing me. Hell, she could use me for all I cared. For sex, for comfort, I would always be down. At first I gave her space, but that was my biggest mistake. A new wolf enrolled into our campus and became my roommate. Little did I know he would soon become my biggest threat.

The human hunters I paid did a splendid job attacking Jungkook. However, it seemed Mother Nature wanted me to work harder because that damn sire bond saved his life. While he was being an ungrateful sired jackass, I was longing to switch places with him. It was my ultimate goal, my desire, to be sired to [Y/N].

So when I caught Park Jimin masturbating to Jungkook’s pictures, the alliance was formed. He’d get Jungkook, I’d get [Y/N]. Little did I know, that vampire bastard was going to double-cross me. A lot of things went south, but it didn’t matter. The end result was what was most important. 

I had finally got a taste of her blood. Sweet, delicious, rich liquid crimson. I closed my eyes, licking my lips at the memory. My plan was finally coming to fruition. 

And the best part? It was fail-proof. Dying with her blood in my system was step one. Step two was drinking it once more after resurrecting to complete the transition into becoming a hybrid. If she didn’t give it to me, I’d have to force her hand.

Honest to god, I didn’t plan for my life to be linked to Jungkook’s. That night at the banquet, I originally wanted to be linked to [Y/N] as a means to be closer to her. Who knew things would work out in my favor?

If she didn’t give me her blood, I’d die and that means Jungkook would die. This was great. Victory was within my reach; I could smell it.

Well, actually I smelled something else. A saccharine scent I knew all too well. Opening my eyes, I saw a figure approaching in the distance past the iron gate bars. 

“[Y/N]...”

My smile was so wide that it hurt my cheeks. The large gauze on her neck was a beautiful sight to see. I hoped she remembered my bite for the rest of her life. The memory of pinning her down, the way she wiggled beneath me trying to escape — it made me hard. If I wasn’t chained, I’d claim her as my own and abduct her for my own twisted needs. 

When she opened the gate, I writhed against the chains like a feral beast. She hesitated at first but then entered, leaving enough space between us so she’d still be out of reach.

“You’re such a fucking tease, I’m tired of being the nice guy. Get over here and release me,” I snarled. She didn't respond, so I kept going. “What? Are you mad I drank your blood? That I’ll be sired to you?”

I knew I had won at this point. I couldn’t help but be smug, wearing a proud smile at my soon-to-be victory. She simply shook her head at me. 

“I’m not mad. I pity you. Things didn’t have to be like this, Tae.”

“I agree. You should’ve chosen me. I wish…” My voice was losing its venom. I almost winced in pain as I said the next part. “I wish you could love me again.”

Her eyes softened a bit, like I chipped away a piece of the strong front she always put on. “Maybe in another life, we could’ve been happy together. But you had to go and orchestrate a murder. Work with hunters, a psychotic vampire, and a corrupted witch.” She ran a hand over her face, sighing loudly. “You’re in the middle of transitioning into a hybrid.”

“I know, I’m over the moon,” I said, enlarging my eyes to show her my excitement. I probably looked insane. “Even if you didn’t choose me, I chose you. And I’ll be yours even if you’re not truly mine. I still won.”

“That’s what you think. You need to drink my blood once more or you’ll die.”

“I know,” I said quickly, anticipating that tidbit. “You’ll give it to me soon enough.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“Because…” This was it. This was my moment! “I linked my life with Jungkook's. So if you don’t give me your blood, he’ll die.”

I let out a hearty laugh, but it quickly faded upon seeing her stoic expression. Why was she so calm? 

“Okay, I’m confused,” I said. “You’re supposed to be devastated.”

She took another step forward and I almost tried to kiss her, desperate for her to be closer. 

“There’s no easy way to say this,” she said. “So I’ll just tell you. I already knew about your life being linked to Jungkook’s.”

I’m sure confusion was etched into my features. What the hell was she talking about? 

“Ari told me. Before she and Jimin were sent to a prison world.” Okay, not even I could predict that. Was I next? I wrestled against my restraints at the fear of being banished. I didn’t want to be away from her. “Calm down. I’m not sending you to one; it’s impossible without Ari’s blood anyway.”

I relaxed and stopped moving, so she continued, “It’s true that I would’ve cried at the thought of losing Jungkook and letting you win. But Ari left me with one last gift before she left.”

That bitch was lucky she went to a prison world because I had half a mind to burn her at the stake. 

“And what was that?”

“She found my father. You see, he was trapped in my moonstone necklace after making a deal with a witch. In exchange for his freedom, the moonstone would be imbued with magic strong enough to grant me fertility. Of course, it would only work if I hadn’t died.”

She lowered her face closer to my level. 

“I managed to release my father from the stone and ask him about some strange words Ari told me. Have you heard of the Mora Muserium?” 

I shook my head. “You know I don’t know what that is.”

“Well, the Mora Muserium is an hourglass that can remove dark magic from people and store it. The spell Ari used to link your lives used dark magic.”

I processed what she was saying, my mind racing a mile a minute. She wasn’t possibly insinuating…

“The dark magic tethering him to you has been removed, Tae. He and you are no longer linked,” she revealed. 

My face stiffened, the smile on my face I once had disappearing altogether. This couldn’t be true. My plan was fail-proof! “No! You’re lying! You’re fucking lying! He and I are connected forever! If you kill me, he dies! Do you really want to risk that?!”

“Tae…” she said, her tone full of pity. It angered me more. “It’s true. I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s not!” I was shouting at the top of my lungs. “You are sadly mistaken if you think I’m going to fall for your scare tactics! I don’t believe it one bit! Prove it!”

“After they removed the dark magic from the linking spell, my dad snapped his neck. Jungkook’s out cold while you’re… not.”

I dropped my jaw as I fell to my knees. “No…”

She got down on one knee, matching my level once more. “Jungkook will come back to life soon. But you won’t be here to see it.”

“So what? You’re going to kill me?” I spat. 

“No. First your eyes will bleed. Then your body will be consumed in the most unimaginable pain you’ve ever felt. Like pure acid running through your veins, eating you alive inside out. It’ll be as painful to watch as it is to experience and lasts a long time before death finally consumes you.”

“You’re kidding me…”

“I’m not. I can’t bear to watch you suffer for that long so… someone else will put you out of your misery.”

She stood up and turned towards the gate. I narrowed my eyes to see a male figure approaching. He had a shotgun in his hand and a tool belt around his waist. The stench of vervain and wolfsbane from it was gag-inducing, and it made me sweat nervously too. 

“Namjoon…” I muttered. He looked at me like I was trash. When I tried to reach [Y/N]’s hand, she had already stood up and walked over to the headmaster. 

“Are you sure about this?” Namjoon asked. [Y/N] bit her lip but nodded slowly. My heart sank to the ground. “Leave it to me. Go. You don’t want to see this.”

She marched forward towards the exit, determined not to look back. Namjoon stood in front of me, pointing the shotgun straight at my chest. I looked him dead in the eye, slowly rising to my feet.

“Sorry it had to end this way. But you did this to yourself, Taehyung.”

“Some headmaster you are. Killing your own student.”

“[Y/N] was the one who asked me to do this.”

“No! Stop lying! She would never!”

I tried to run towards the gate, her back still in view as she walked away rather slowly. I knew deep down, she didn’t want this. 

“[Y/N]! [Y/N], please! You’re going to just walk away? Even though you know you can save me?! Are you that heartless?!”

*BOOM!*

Fuck! My shoulder was stinging with pain from the poisoned bullet. I groaned in agony but remained standing, reaching out for her.

“[Y/N], please! I don’t want to die! All I ever wanted was—”

*BOOM!*

My left leg was fucked. I fell down to the cold ground, desperation being the only thing helping me stay conscious. She had covered her ears this time, but I knew my voice would reach her.

“[Y/N], I love you…” I breathed. “Even in my twisted, messed up, obsessive way. I love you and I just wanted you to choose me for once. For once…”

I heard Namjoon’s footsteps and him cocking the gun in preparation for the next shot. I tried to crawl away.

*BOOM!*

Now both my legs were done for. I cried. Wailed. Screamed as I laid on my back. I didn’t want to die, not unless it was for her. Not because of her. 

“[Y/N], I’m sorry! Please… please don’t let me die. You’re better than that… you’re better than me… you’re different!”

The cock of Namjoon’s gun let me know my time was up. I closed my eyes and waited. I guess I finally lost.

“Wait, don’t shoot!”

Your Point of View

The words left your mouth without you realizing. Namjoon froze and Taehyung opened his eyes, seeing you run towards him. In a matter of seconds, you placed yourself in between him and the professor with your arms spread in a protective stance.

“Don’t kill him,” you begged.

“[Y/N], are you sure?” Namjoon asked. You looked over your shoulder to see Taehyung try to sit up.

“Stay down!” you shouted at him. Taehyung obeyed and laid as still as a wooden plank. “Don’t fucking move or try anything. I already regret this.” 

You bit your wrist and bent down to the ground, forcing it into Taehyung’s mouth. His eyes widened in alarm, but he drank your blood nevertheless. Once he had his fill, you felt his emotions skyrocket — particularly joy.

“Stay still and stay seated until I tell you to move,” you commanded.

He sat in a criss-cross position, his smile beaming with pure bliss. “You love me. I can tell. I can feel it.”

“Shut up!”

You stood up and Namjoon slung his gun over his shoulder. “You want him alive?”

“I… I don’t know.” You were shaking and pretty soon close to hyperventilation until Namjoon centered you, reminding you that you were in a safe space. 

“It’s okay. I’m not judging you,” He put his hands on your shoulders. “Talk to me.” 

“I… I thought I was doing the right thing. He’s fucking insane, but at the same time… I thought about my childhood abuser. How I shoved him off, how he fell, how he was begging for me to call for help — but nothing was done. I let him die. He deserved it, but that was such an easy way out. He should’ve been rotting in jail or at least atoning for his sins. I didn’t want to do the same thing to Tae.”

“Breathe… breathe…”

You took a deep inhale and then let out a slow exhale. “This time I know about my blood and its healing properties. I couldn’t let him die… I thought I could, but it felt wrong. God, what’s wrong with me?”

Namjoon placed a finger to his lips. “Shh. No more talking down to yourself. You want to save him, then save him. It’s your blood. Now… you mentioned atoning for sins. Do you have something in mind for him?”

You turned your head to the side, seeing him stare at you with such an intensity that it made you self-conscious. 

“Yeah… what are you going to do with me, oh great sire?” He was taunting you, but you didn’t let it deter you. 

“I’m going to compel you to forget me.”

“What?! No. I refuse. Don’t do that, please. My love for you is the only thing that keeps me going. I can’t—”

“Taehyung? Stop talking.”

He had to oblige. Namjoon let go of you, crossing his arms over another. 

“You’re absolutely sure this is what you want to do?”

You gave him a small smile. “Yes. Because maybe if he didn’t love me, didn’t know me, then he’d be different. He’d be able to focus on himself, finding himself.”

You then tilted your body at a 90 degree angle, startling the man in front of you.

“What are you doing? Why are you bowing?”

“I need your help. Please.”

“Okay, okay,” he said, waving his arms around and forcing you to stand up straight. “Anything for you. You don’t have to beg.”

“After I compel Taehyung, I need you to help him start a new life. He’s going to be a newborn hybrid. Please take care of him in my stead.”

“I will, I promise. Look… I’ll wait outside the cave while you say your goodbyes.”

You gave him your thanks and he left, the last sound being the creaky iron gate closing behind him. Then you walked over to Taehyung, who was crying softly. 

“Taehyung… stand up. Let me look at you.” He got to his feet right away and you shoved your fingers in his bullet wounds, extracting each bullet out with skill and precision. Taehyung couldn’t even scream until you told him it was okay, so he stood still and endured. Once you were done, you held his face with both hands, wiping his tears away with your thumb. “What do you want to say? Tell me.”

“That I love you s-so much.” He closed his eyes, embracing the warmth of your hands. “Don’t make me forget you.”

“I have to.”

“But you love me too. I know it, don’t lie to me.”

“The sire bond is complicated. It heightens every emotion. You’re confused.”

His eyes fluttered open, a fire burning in his gaze. “I have never been more sure of anything in my life. You align my soul, [Y/N]. I’m incomplete without you. Please…”

You stood on your tiptoes to press a tender kiss on his forehead. He shuddered beneath you, wishing this moment could last forever. 

“I need you to live your life and find yourself. As much as you say you want to be sired, I’d be withholding your freedom and that isn’t love. It’s abuse.” 

“I don’t care. I don’t mind it. Not if it’s you.”

“Shh…” You put a finger to his lips, staring deep into his eyes. 

“No. I don’t want to say goodbye. Please.”

Your pupils dilated as your compulsion ability kicked into gear. 

“You will forget about me and your love for me completely. You’re going to live your life and do better, work on yourself, love yourself, understand that this is a second chance at life. Don’t waste it. After I uncuff you, you’re going to walk out of the caves and listen to Namjoon, who will help you learn how to be a hybrid.”

You worked quickly and removed his restraints. He walked out of the cave like a zombie, and you almost wanted to pass out from the stress. It shouldn’t have been that painful, but it was like you ripped off the biggest band aid. Taehyung had burrowed himself into your heart and despite your best efforts to extract all remains of him, he’d left a permanent scar. 

The sire bond with Taehyung, although short-lived, had set your emotions in flux. The intensity of his love for you was very real, the ache in his heart when he was begging you to not erase his memories cut you deep like glass. After you compelled him, it felt like someone sawed your heart in half.

Letting someone go was never going to get easier, but you had one more person to talk to. Another bandaid. Another heartbreak. 

Jungkook’s Point of View

I wished [Y/N]’s father had given me a warning. After placing my hand on the hourglass thingy, black smoke (which I assumed was the dark magic) formed inside. Professor Min had to ask, “How do we know if it worked?” before her dad snapped my neck so fast, almost as if he had waited his entire life to do so. 

Even though I was going to come back to life, it didn’t make it hurt any less. All I could see was darkness. No sound, no sight, just unbearable loneliness. But then I saw a light in the distance and ran towards it. 

The first thing I saw once I opened my eyes was her. She was caressing my head, running her hand through my hair. Her smile was kind, but her eyes were empty. Almost as if she was forcing herself to be present when she didn’t want to be. Still, she was goddamn beautiful. 

I noticed the gauze on her neck and sat up immediately. “Are you okay? Your neck…”

She waved her hand in a dismissive manner, forcing me to lay back down. “I’m fine. It’s mostly healed anyway, take it easy. You just came back to life.”

I realized I was in my dorm room. Taehyung’s things had been cleared out already, so my side was the only one that had personality to it. I cringed seeing the mess of clothes, posters, and towels on the floor. I would’ve cleaned up had I known she would be here with me. 

“Wouldn’t be the first time I died,” I gave her a soft smile as I reminisced about the memory. “Do you remember it?”

“How could I forget? That’s how everything started. The hunters killing you, me giving you my blood, you being sired… you hated it.”

There was a playfulness in her speech that made me chuckle. “I did. Oh, it was humiliating.”

“Yeah, so awful,” she said, playing along. “You hated me.”

“Well… I don’t. I haven’t for a while… and don’t think I ever truly did.”

Her eyes widened a bit and she rubbed her palms on her thighs anxiously. “It’s okay if you did. We were put in an uncomfortable situation.”

“No… it wasn’t.” I sat up with my pillow propped against the headboard and rested my back on top. I leaned forward and grabbed her hand. “I shouldn’t have been so mean back then. I let my pride get in the way. I’m sorry.”

She turned her head to the side, trying to hide her embarrassment. “Why are you apologizing now? We’re past this. Silly.”

“Because you deserve it. You deserve to hear that you were right. About everything. About… him.”

She finally looked at me, slowly retracting her hand, but I held it tightly. I feared if I let go, she’d disappear for good. Something about her hollow gaze earlier left a sinking feeling in my chest. 

“If you’re going to apologize, then be specific.” She sounded exasperated and I wondered if I should’ve said nothing.

“I can sit here and blame Jimin for it all. Like how he kissed me, manipulated me into believing I enjoyed it. I can lie and say he’s the reason I didn’t believe you when I should’ve. But I won’t.”

“What’s your point?”

My voice started to crack as tears welled up in my eyes. “I’m a coward. I was scared. The sire bond ending terrified me. I thought you wouldn’t love me anymore, so maybe I pushed you away. Wanted to find an excuse to hate you, paint you like the villain you never were. I blamed you for things you didn’t do and I was wrong for it.”

No response. She only stared at our hands, so I intertwined my fingers with hers.  

“Please say something,” I begged.

“While I waited for you to wake up, I read Sunghyun’s notebook. He was in love…”

“With you?”

“No. With us. He always rooted for us to be together. In his notes, he put down how much we belong together.” I saw how she was taking in quick breaths to calm down as tears formed in her eyes. “I’m sorry to disappoint him.”

“What are you talking about?” 

She stared deep into my eyes, a grave expression on her face. “I’m leaving. Namjoon’s going to help me graduate early.”

“Well, where are you going? I’ll join you.” She shook her head before I finished my response. 

“No. Jungkook, I’m leaving everything. Everyone.”

I held our intertwined hands against my chest. “No. Take me with you. Please.” I kissed the back of her hand, trembling so much that I thought I’d throw up. 

“I can’t. I need to heal, I need space.”

“Then do it. I’ll give you all the space you need. Just don’t make this a goodbye.”

She pulled her hand away from me, using enough force so that I couldn’t stop her. She got up from her seat and turned her back towards me. Her fists tightened as her foot tapped the floor anxiously.

“I’m letting you go, so you can live your life. Just like I did for Taehyung.”

I’ve never moved so fast in my life. I scrambled to get out of bed, forcing her to turn around by gripping her shoulders.

“What is that supposed to mean? Isn’t Taehyung dead? Huh?” I shook her once to get her attention when she remained silent. “Answer me!”

“I gave him my blood.” 

Her words sent my emotions into overdrive. Anger, jealousy, confusion were all fighting for dominance. “What?! Why on earth would you do that? That bastard deserves to be six feet under for everything he’s done!”

She pried my hands off her shoulders like she was repulsed to be touched by me. “Because I could! I have the ability to heal him so how could I just let him die?! I didn’t want his death to be on my conscience!”

“It wouldn’t have been! He would’ve died anyway!” I placed my hands on my hips. “So what, he’s sired to you now? You know damn well he isn’t going to turn 100 times to break it.”

“What does it matter?”

“It matters a whole damn lot, [Y/N]. He’s won. He wanted you and now he’s got you. And what’s worse is that you don’t seem to mind,” I ran a hand down my face, forcing a laugh at the ridiculous situation, but I was truly dying inside. “He’s tried to kill me, he’s lied, he’s backstabbed you, he was obsessed over you. He—”

“Chose me,” she said, interrupting me. “Despite all of it, he’s chosen me time and time again. I let him live because I wanted him to know I chose him at least once.”

“Do you love him?” I sounded so pathetic, but I had to know. Her silence was eating me alive. “Answer me.”

“If Taehyung had died… I would’ve been destroyed. I couldn’t carry that burden of knowing I could’ve saved him. If anyone were to die by my hands, it should’ve been Jimin.” Her eyes darkened, but I could sense the fury within her. She appeared calm on the surface, which made her even scarier in my eyes as she told me the next part. “I’m not sure if you know this, but Ari took her and Jimin to a prison world.”

“No… I didn’t know,” I breathed. 

“So let me ask you this. If Jimin was here right now and I was about to kill him, would you let it happen?”

My arms slowly fell back down to my sides. My mouth was dry as I tried to form a response, but nothing came out. I felt heavy, anchored to the ground and immobilized by her question. Jimin deserved to die just like Taehyung did. I knew that. Why couldn’t I say anything?

“Do you love him?” she asked. 

“No.” I didn’t sound convincing, but I meant it. 

“See Jungkook? You say you don’t love Jimin, but you would save him too. Despite all he’s done. I can say I don’t love Taehyung, but I saved him anyway. Whether we want to admit it or not, we loved them in some capacity. Maybe not in the way they craved, but we did care for them.”

“Fine. You made your point. But what now, huh? Taehyung’s sired to you.”

She held her hand out in a stop motion. “I’m not finished talking. Taehyung’s… not sired to me. Not anymore.”

The relief that washed over me was overwhelming. “How?”

“I compelled him to forget about me.”

I didn’t need a sire bond to know what she was planning to do next. Fortunately, I was quicker than her and pinned her to the bed with my hand covering her eyes. 

“Jungkook?” 

“Please… please don’t do it,” My vision was blurry again with tears. “I know what you’re planning to do and I’m begging you to change your mind.”

She could easily overthrow me, but instead she reached her hand up to caress my face, smiling even though she couldn’t see me. “You know me so well…”

“Of course I do. After everything how could I not?” 

“Then you understand why I want to do it.”

“No. I don’t. Is this my punishment? Do you wish for me to suffer?”

“Not at all.”

“I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you if I have to. Please let me love you, please… I’m sorry.”

I was crying so much that a tear fell onto her cheek. She didn’t wipe it away and I leaned into her touch, kissing her palm once. 

“I want you to be able to live your life without being weighed down by me. The burden of everything, the trauma bonding—it’s not normal.”

“We’re not normal. Nothing about our lives is ever going to be normal. Maybe it’s not supposed to be.”

“You deserve a clean slate. To start over.”

“What’s the point if you’re not by my side?”

She sat up on the bed, but I didn’t remove my hand from her eyes. “I won’t erase everything. You’ll still remember me, but only as that girl that had a crush on you. How we sparred together sometimes. You won’t remember loving me.”

I gritted my teeth, wanting so badly to shout, but I knew I had to remain calm. It’s hard when you’re a blubbering mess though. “Erasing even a single memory of you is a crime. Each moment was a stepping stone that led me to you. There’s no point in compelling me to forget because my heart will yearn for you and only you.”

“Baby…”

“Without your love, I’m nothing. So please… stay with me. Hold on for a while longer. Let’s heal together.”

She slowly took my hand off her eyes and I let it happen. Next thing I knew, she grabbed me by my shirt, kissing me fervently, so desperate like she was afraid I’d disappear. It was ironic because all I could think about was keeping her close in case she’d vanish first.

I never broke our kiss as I pushed her down onto the bed, my body on top of hers. The way we melded together was perfect. I was made to hold her, to love her, and I wanted to show it. We were both crying because I tasted the saltiness of her tears as I kissed her. 

There was no changing her mind. She knew it, I knew it. This was our goodbye kiss. So I prolonged it as best I could, caressing her face and kissing her deeper than before. 

Then it happened. She caught me by surprise and flipped us around, her body now on top. My eyes opened like a stupid fool and she put her face right in front of me. Another tear cascaded down as her pupils dilated. 

“You’re going to forget the fact you ever loved me. I’m just the girl who had a crush on you and trained with you, nothing more. I want you to live your life freely. If we ever cross paths again, don’t approach me. When I’m ready, I’ll come to you and you can decide then if you’ll have me. You’ll remember then. I love you, Jungkook.”

I blinked once, then twice, and my room was now empty. Sitting up, I wiped my tears away and reached my hand into my pocket. I pulled out a small, dried vervain flower and it burned when it came into contact with my skin. Compared to what I’ve been through, this pain was nothing. My moonlight had left me, fading away for good.

Until our next encounter.

a/n: Again, thank you for reading Moonstruck!!! I cried while writing the ending, I hope I made you feel something too. I do have an AO3 if you'd rather show support over there. Much love! 🌙💗

[matchavellichor]

Hi, I hope your day is going well when you read this!! I know you said you were currently taking a slight break from writing due to school, and first of all, I'm wishing you the very best of your studies! But I thought I would send a request just in case you do resume writing fics in the future, but feel free to ignore this! This seems a bit plain, but I was wondering if you could write an ominis x fmc where mc is terribly shy and avoidant to no one but ominis due to her feelings for him? Over time, though, Ominis observes her personality when interacting with other people, becoming fond of her but is left conflicted seeing how nervous she is around him, leaving him to wonder if she hates him or not. Since Ominis can’t see MC staring at him or how her cheeks go red around him, we could perhaps have Sebastian take note of this and act like the typical tease-playing wingman to set Ominis and MC up? It’s a pretty fluffy request, but you can lead it down any road you want, whether it turns out suggestively or not.

A/N: hi!!! tysm for the kindness <3 uni is still kind of hectic at the moment unfort, but i LOVED this idea sm so i decided to write a lil something anyway. ty for the request, hope you enjoy!

Great Expectations

Ominis x f!MC - Fluff - 3k words

Summary: Urged on by Sebastian's insistence that the reason for MC's evasiveness is that she harbors a secret crush, Ominis decides to take Sebastian's advice and find this out for himself.

Tags: Miscommunication, Wingman Sebastian, Clueless Ominis, Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Banter, First Kiss

"Some light reading?"

Ominis can sense the way she startles, nearly dropping the tall stack of books balanced carefully in her arms.

“Oh, uh…hello, Ominis,” she greets as she rights herself, voice oddly tight. “I hadn’t realized you were here.”

“Always am. The library’s practically my second home at this point,” he smiles warmly, making some attempt at small talk.

There’s an awkward pause before he clears his throat to break the silence. “I uh, I hadn’t realized you were such an avid reader yourself,” he tilts his head, waving his wand over the topmost title in her pile. “Ah, and you have taste! Dickens is brilliant. I’d love to pick your brain sometime about—”

“I apologize, if—you’ll um, if you’ll excuse me,” she suddenly interrupts, eyes trained at her feet, before she’s brushing past him in the tight corridor of shelves and exiting towards one of the more populated corners of the library.

Ominis frowns, brows knitting together in confusion and what’s beginning to morph into genuine offense at this point.

“Was it something I said?” he mutters under his breath, rubbing the back of his neck.

Ever since they had become acquaintances, any attempts at amicability on his part had been met with brisk dismissals, curt replies, and her avoiding him like the plague. At first he thought her simply timid, but after observing her behavior with the likes of Sebastian or Garreth or any of her other friends, Ominis had been seriously considering some innate character flaw of his own.

He had thought he had made some progress in their relationship at the last gathering they had frequented, a weekend get-together in the Slytherin common room, but it was quickly becoming apparent that he’d been sorely mistaken.

Was he really so unapproachable? Dreadfully unlikeable? Did she simply have no interest in befriending him?

Ominis tries to pretend his ego isn't bruised by this notion, but fails miserably when his brain wanders to more woeful reasons as to why she would want nothing to do with him. His family’s notoriety and the rumors surrounding his person that are frequently pedaled around the castle undoubtedly have already reached her ears.

Filled with a strange sense of defeat, Ominis abandons any of his original plans of reading in favor of sulking in the common room alone. Less than two steps towards the library exit, however, and he’s bombarded by Sebastian.

“Ominis, you sly dog, don’t think I didn’t see you two warming up in the back shelves,” he grins, poking his friend in the ribs and waggling his brows.

Ominis frowns, swatting at the brunette’s hand. “Warming up is certainly not the term I would use. She despises me.”

“Despises you? Are you blind?”

“...Yes?”

“I refuse to believe you’re that blind,” Sebastian amends, scoffing. “Don’t tell me you really haven’t noticed.”

“Noticed what? The way she can’t bear to spend longer than a minute around me?” Ominis grumbles. “Trust me, I’m well aware.”

“Oh Gods, you’re just as hopeless as she is,” Sebastian groans, deeply pained. “She doesn’t despise you, she’s head over heels, Ominis,” he leans in with an all-too smug tone. “Take it from a man who knows the ladies.”

Ominis turns his head over his shoulder as if in search. “And, pray tell, where is this man?”

He receives an indignant smack on the arm. “I’m serious! Trust me, it’s obvious to anyone with eyes. I mean, why do you think she’s always so nervous around you?”

“She probably thinks I’m going to curse her or something,” Ominis mutters. “My reputation isn’t exactly the nicest, Sebastian. Are you forgetting who my family is?”

Sebastian barks out a laugh. “I’m sorry, Ominis, but anyone who takes even a second out of their day to speak to you will know you’re incapable of harming a lacewing fly. Trust me on this, she likes you.”

Ominis pauses for a moment, considering the possibility that had never before crossed his mind before. An involuntary warmth spreads over his skin, surfacing all kinds of unbidden feelings he doesn’t have much experience in handling. Noticing his contemplative silence, Sebastian peeks at the blonde.

“Oh, Salazar, you’re blushing,” he gasps, no small amount of delight seeping through his tone. “You know, for a while I was half-convinced you were incapable of it. Me and Garreth actually had a bet that were half-vamp—”

Ominis scowls, pushing Sebastian’s fingers away from where they were currently trying to prod at his flushed cheeks. “I am not blushing. Look, this whole notion is ridiculous, even for you, Sebastian. She can barely tolerate me, much less harbor some crush on me.”

“Fine,” Sebastian shrugs, feigning acquiescence. “Then flirt with her. See what happens, and if she truly despises you as you say, then no harm, no foul.”

Ominis sputters. “I will not flirt with her, don’t be absurd.”

“Why not? If you already believe she hates you, what do you have to lose?”

“My dignity? My already maimed ego? You’ve seen her in Defence against the Dark Arts, if we’re being realistic I’m probably in risk of breaking a couple bones as well—”

“Ominis, just try,” Sebastian groans, looking ready to rip his hair out. “If you don’t, I’m marching right back into that library and flirting with her for you.”

Immediately, memories of Sebastian’s past trysts with women and the sheer amount of crudeness in even his most tame chat-up lines come to mind. Ominis panics. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh, we both know I would,” Sebastian grins, stopping in his tracks and turning back towards the library doors. “Remember that one boiling cauldron line Garreth taught me? I’ll go up and tell her you begged me to use it for you—”

“Stop, stop, alright,” Ominis grits, fisting a hand in the back of Sebastian’s robes to pull him back. He sighs. “I’ll….I’ll speak to her, alright?”

Sebastian claps a hand over his shoulder, pleased. “That’s the spirit.”

//

As much as Ominis would have liked to postpone the inevitable as much as possible, fate was not on his side. He had the misfortune of running into her while on his way to the Great Hall for dinner, and with Sebastian by his side, he would have no chance of escape.

After urging his friend on with not so friendly threats, Sebastian made himself scarce, though undoubtedly somewhere within earshot so he could listen to disaster unfold.

“Just the person I was looking for,” he greets with as much warmth as he can manage, though his nerves are broiling a storm in his gut. “Have you gotten in any good reading today?”

Once again, she seems startled by his presence. “You were…looking for me?”

“Well, yes. I was wondering if I might accompany you to dinner?” he smiles. “Would give me a chance to bore you with my fascination with muggle literature.”

“Oh,” her eyes widen, looking almost excited before it’s washed over with anxiety. “I’m sorry, I uh, I wasn’t…going to dinner.”

“Oh,” Ominis frowns, noting how close they were to the Great Hall. “Where were you heading then?”

“The library,” she blurts out and Ominis tilts his head in confusion.

“But the library’s in the opposite direction,” he nods over his shoulder. “And haven’t you just come back from there?”

“I–I have to go,” she says, suddenly swiveling in the other direction and brushing past him. “Apologies.”

Once again, Ominis is left perplexed, and increasingly hurt. The only thing the interaction has done is given him a bigger headache, her behavior irrational in the face of Sebastian’s theory. Ominis finds himself even more convinced she hates his guts.

As if on cue, Sebastian ducks out from behind a tapestry shielding an alcove, an almost pained sort of grimace on his face.

“That was…bad.”

“Understatement of the year,” Ominis groans. “Do you see what I mean? She clearly doesn’t like me, Sebastian. All I’ve done is made a bigger fool of myself.”

“She’s nervous, Ominis. She was blushing the entire interaction. Look, maybe try being more direct? Girls like confidence! Tell her you will spend time with her and that you won’t take no for an answer.”

Ominis blinks at him. “Are you trying to get my bollocks hexed off?”

“While that would be deeply amusing, no,” Sebastian assures. “Look, she’s clearly just too shy to let herself spend time with you, that’s why she runs away. You can’t give her a way out, hell, incarcerous her if you have to.”

Ominis looks genuinely concerned for any women that have had the terrible misfortune of being the objects of Sebastian’s romantic interest. “How you’ve not found yourself in Azkaban yet amazes me.”

“Oh, shush,” he scowls before suddenly snapping his fingers, metaphorical lightbulb lighting up his face. “I’ve got it! Remember how Sharp gave her detention this weekend for sneaking ingredients for Garreth? Just muck something up tomorrow in Potions, and done! She’ll be forced to spend a whole evening with you.”

“That’s a terrible idea.”

“It’s brilliant,” Sebastian grins, far too proud of himself. “Everyone knows detention is the best place to snog.”

Ominis chokes. “There will be no snogging—”

“Oh, got bigger plans in mind, have you? Ominis, you dirty little devil—”

The tips of his ears burning bright-red, Ominis pushes through the entrance doors to the Great Hall before Sebastian can get another word in, thanking Merlin she’d foregone dinner tonight.

//

While sprinkling some erumpent horn powder in Sharp’s cauldron during a practical demonstration was easier than he’d thought, actually having to go to detention the upcoming Saturday evening was not.

Pacing his dorm room anxiously while he counts down the hours until he has to make his way down to the Potions classroom, Ominis can’t help but be besmirched by his own stupidity at how he inevitably let Sebastian talk him into this.

Like the devil, Sebastian pokes his head through the door, not even bothering to knock. He plops himself down on one of the beds, eyeing the blonde with poorly-concealed bewilderment. “What are you so strung up for?”

“Not helping,” he glowers. “What if she runs away again?”

“Relax, would you?” Sebastian rolls his eyes, standing to walk over and muss the blonde’s hair. Ominis scowls and swats at his friend, but Sebastian is nothing if not stubborn, pulling at Ominis’ neatly folded uniform tie until it drapes messily around his neck.

“Perfect,” he grins, standing back to examine his work.

Ominis frowns, attempting with great futility to smooth his hair back into place. “I look like a delinquent.”

“How would you know?” Sebastian raises a brow. “You look great. Girls like a bit of a bad boy, you know. And after your stunt in Sharp’s class you’re certainly starting to build a reputation.”

“You were the one who told me to do it!”

“I told you to get yourself detention, not cause a minor explosion.”

Waving a wand over his wristwatch to check the time, Ominis’ pulse doubles when he realizes he has to be in Sharp’s classroom in a few minutes.

Before he can talk himself out of it, Sebastian is dragging him out the door, blabbering terrible advice as if he’s sending his friend off to a first date and not detention with a grouchy Potions master.

“—And most importantly of all, compliment her, Ominis. I know you’re not very expressive, but for the love of Merlin, tell her she looks nice,” he practically shoves the blonde through the common room door, adding a final, “have fun! Use the contraceptive charm!”

Ominis is promptly left alone in the dimly-lit corridor, a heat involuntarily rising to his cheeks, praying some greater force will strike him down before he has to humiliate himself any further.

//

The classroom is empty when he finally arrives a few minutes behind schedule, except for where he inevitably finds her scrubbing cauldrons in the back of the room. She tenses when he approaches, but doesn’t startle when he greets her this time. Ominis wonders if he can put it down as progress.

“Sharp asked me to tell you we’re not allowed to use magic,” she nods towards the stack of cauldrons perched on the workspace. “And, um that we’re only to bother him if someone’s bleeding, dying, or dead.”

Ominis nods, pointedly taking the space beside her and dragging one of the soot-covered cauldrons towards him to begin working.

There’s a tension between them that Ominis can’t ignore for the life of him, only the sound of scrubbing to cut through the painstaking silence. After a few unbearable moments, he clears his throat, remembering Sebastian’s advice.

“You look nice tonight,” he attempts, though his voice sounds oddly thick with nerves.

The sound of scrubbing stops. “Sorry?”

“I said you uh, you look very nice,” he attempts with more firmness, though his hands are white-knuckled around the edge of the table to stop himself from bolting from the mortification.

“Is that supposed to be a joke?”

“What?” he asks perplexed, forgetting momentarily a crucial reason as to why the compliment would seem absurd coming from him. “Oh dear Merlin, no, no that’s not how I meant it all.”

“Very funny, Ominis,” she takes in a sharp breath, dropping the brush with a dull clatter into the cauldron before she crosses her arms and faces him, all timidness suddenly replaced by a glaring frustration in her tone. Ominis isn't sure if it's an improvement, but at least she’s talking to him. “Did Sebastian put you up to this?”

“Sebastian? What? Of course not,” he sputters, desperately trying to amend. “I— Look, I’m—I’m sorry. Can I start over? Please?”

She raises an expectant eyebrow.

“You don’t look nice,” he tries, trying to suppress the wince that washes over his features. His only consolance is that Sebastian isn’t here to witness any of it. “I’m sorry, no—that’s not—I meant, I’m sure you do look nice, not that I would…know, but,” he runs a hand over his face, certain that if she didn't hate him before, she certainly does now. “I meant, you smell very nice. That I can tell, you…you smell very lovely, actually.”

There’s a long pause where she simply stares at him before her frustration inevitably only seems to double. “Is this what you find entertaining?”

“I’m sorry?”

“You’re taunting me,” she seethes. “You obviously know what I feel for you and now you’re making fun of me for it, aren’t you? You’ve been doing it all week.”

“What? Salazar, no, that’s not it at all—”

“Truly hilarious,” she scoffs, shaking her head. “Very mature. Maybe try being more subtle—”

“That’s not what I’m—”

“You can stop pretending you want to hang out with me all the time now—”

“Will you listen? I’m not—”

“Next time, if you don’t feel the same way, then simply—hmpph!”

Despite the blaring alarm bells that should be going off in Ominis’ head for doing something so painfully impulsive to someone who could hex his entire bloodline in the time it takes her to take out her wand, his mind blanks out into a puddle of warmth as he crashes his lips to hers.

She freezes, mouth unmoving against his in the time it takes awareness to seep into her brain and for her to realize he’s kissing her.

To his relief, when the realization does set in, she kisses him back.

She seems to melt just as much as Ominis, her body instinctively leaning into his, hands going slack at her sides before they instinctively come to hold at his forearms where he’s cradling her face so she can’t pull away.

Ominis pulls him towards her, and then, urged on by some coiling heat inside of him he’s admittedly not too familiar with, he crowds her against the workspace. He nearly topples over several cauldrons in his franticness to deepen the kiss, muttering sheepish apologies through heavy breaths, but he’s far too consumed to feel embarrassed.

His lips on hers are clumsy and impatient, and maybe far too hungry for a first kiss, but she doesn’t seem to mind. Her hands come up to thread through his hair, to drag down his scalp, and Ominis couldn’t stop the groan that leaves him if he had all the composure in the world.

He’s so far gone he doesn’t even care about all the soot they’re getting on each other, too preoccupied with trying to keep his knees from buckling, to press his body even more against hers as if it’s the greatest offense known to history that they’re not physically molded to one another. When he slots a thigh between her legs and she lets out a little noise against his mouth, he thinks he might just collapse.

Ominis skin feels hot to the touch, nerves prickling with want, with the urge to touch and taste and grind until he goes numb. She finally breaks the kiss, panting heavily against his mouth, eyes glazed over with just as much raw need. Though the loss is almost physically painful, Ominis is grateful for small mercies, because he was a few seconds away from tearing through her uniform top.

“You’re…” she swallows, trying to clear the breathlessness from her voice. “Uh, very committed to the bit, I suppose.”

Ominis can’t help the laugh that escapes him.

His shoulders shake, forehead dropping to meet hers, and when he glances back up he smiles, lips still raw and undoubtedly kiss-bruised. She returns his grin, until he can feel her smile against his mouth when he leans down to press his lips to hers again, because he simply can’t help himself.

They barely register the sound of the door to the professor’s office swinging open. Only when he clears his throat do they finally tear apart, and Ominis wonders if it’s possible to drop dead from sheer mortification.

Sharp lets out a long-suffering sigh, as if he’s accustomed to walking in on much, much worse by now and his hardly fazed.

“Just get the cauldrons clean,” he grumbles, grabbing a few texts on one of the adjacent tables. He hobbles back to the door, shaking his head and muttering under his breath. “Bloody teenagers and hormones, don’t get paid enough for this shit…”

He ducks his head out before closing the door, pointing a stern finger in their direction. “And not on my tables.”

[psychedelic-ink]

𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐈𝐎𝐀𝐃𝐊

Pairing: FEDRA!Javier Peña x firefly!reader

Genre: slice of life, smut, romance, angst, enemies to reluctant friends to lovers, TLOU AU, minors dni

Summary: Javier, a former member of the Federal Disaster Response Agency in Kansas City, is haunted by the guilt and violence he indirectly caused by not taking action when he should have. After fleeing Kansas City in the aftermath of Kathleen's violent overthrow of FEDRA, you and Javier seek refuge in an abandoned train in the middle of a forest.

As you and Javier turn the train into a living space and learn to navigate the dangers of a post-apocalyptic world, you gradually overcome your differences and form an unlikely bond. But when your pasts catch up with you, you must confront the demons that haunt you and make a choice that could mean the difference between life and death. Will you choose to protect each other and find a way to build a new life together, or will the ghosts of your pasts tear you apart?

word count: 4.5k

chapter summary: you and javier get off on a rocky start.

warnings: canon typical violence, arguing, a brief reference to Ellie and the main TLOU plot, no y/n

Deadhead - A railcar or locomotive that is being transported empty, typically to be used for future shipments.

The day was warm, the sun bright. Small petals flew further away from the green grass, colorful flowers moving left and right with the soft caress of the wind. The vest Javier wore dug uncomfortably into his chest, his rifle slung over his back and pistol snug on his hip. The lovely weather mocked him, taunted him. It was a lie. A facade. The color, the white clouds, the green grass— all of it seemed muddled now. If he tried hard enough he could see specks of blood, tainting the visual that could as well be a spitting image of a Van Gough painting. 

But despite it all. Despite knowing it’s a lie, despite knowing the horror, he still wore the letters; F E D R A— Federal Disaster Response Agency. He liked to think that they were doing some good. At least they drove the wretched infected underground, right? They did one good thing, so that made the killing, the rape, and the torture okay. 

Right? 

“Fuck me.” he muttered into the wind, hoping the words, later on, would be carried back to him, reminding him that hey, at least I knew something was wrong. 

He noticed someone walking up to him. He was expecting it, really. Micheal Coghlan. The man who by some goddamn miracle still carried goodness inside of him. The type of goodness that would radiate through the cracks of skin and bone, the type that would bring light to a person’s face. 

Micheal had a limp. 

It was caused by someone Javier knew but didn’t particularly like. He saw it happen. He still heard the bone snapping into two when he closed his eyes at night. The man stood next to him and Javier observed him from the corner of his eye. Once upon a time, he could call his face roguishly handsome. It wasn’t a sharp face, round around the edges, with a bit of stubble; shaved by his sister no doubt. His eyes were kind, a darker shade of brown compared to his own, lips thin and chapped. Thirsty. 

Javier cleared his throat, hand going to his waist, he pulled out his flask and offered it to him. 

“Water?” 

He took it without an answer. Drank it in a way where water droplets would stream from the corner of his lips, his gulps loud. It made Javier feel awkward. Micheal stood a bit straighter when he offered the flask back. It was empty. 

“So what did you want to talk about?” Javier asked. 

Micheal smiled and crinkles appeared in the corners of his eyes. “The people.” 

It’s a bird violently flying into the window that wakes you. 

Your eyes open fearfully, your heart beating a mile a minute. Your breathing is uneven. Dust clings to both the inside of your throat and skin. Eyes still wide open, you stare at the ceiling of the train. The seats you managed to sprawl yourself upon are uncomfortable, jagged metal sticking into your skin, making ugly marks and dents. When your breathing calms, and body relaxes, you slowly get up. 

The weather is hot, yet gray clouds decorate the sky. The heat of rain, you like to refer to it as. You can barely see the sun, the light of it filtered through the gray, painting the world into a muted color. Fitting. 

You hear a snore and direct your gaze toward the sound. You see the boots that belong to a man that’s sleeping a couple of rows ahead, too big to truly fit and get comfortable. Javier Peña. You heave yourself up by grasping the heads of the seats, your legs aching and stumbling like a newborn doe’s. His shirt is unbuttoned from the top, revealing golden, scarred skin. Your eyes trail further down, and they don’t stop until you see the gun strapped to his waist. You think about how easy it would be to just take it, to shoot him and try to find your people. 

Then you remember. They’re all gone. You have no people. Marlene’s words were clear;

The girl’s gone. No more soldiers, no cure, no nothing. The fireflies are dead; you’re on your own now. 

A chill crawls up every inch of your skin. Why are you even here? Why are you with him of all people? You’re not sure yet. It’s much easier to dislike him when he’s not speaking and his eyes are closed. 

You hate that when they are closed, the only memory of them is him being struck with fear, the flames behind you mirrored in his eyes. Kansas City quickly became a place of destruction and death. It was unexpected and with every fabric of your being, you wished you had never seen it. 

“Why are you watching me?” his voice startles you; it’s deep with sleep. “It’s creepy.” 

“I was thinking about taking your gun and shooting you.” 

“I’ve always loved an honest woman. What stopped you?” 

“I have no place to go.” 

“Neither do I, as you know,” he says. He finally opens his eyes, but only to stare at the ceiling in a similar way you did not moments ago. “So where does that leave us?” 

You don’t understand what he’s asking you. The air is still.  Javier takes a sitting position, his elbows pressed into his knees and hands hanging loosely between his legs. 

“I say we stay here,” he says, voice firm.

“The train?” you ask, confused.

He shrugs. “Why not? It’s covered pretty well, it’s far enough for people to see and close enough if—god forbid—we want to head back into the city.” 

“You want us to live together?” 

“I want us to turn this into a living space. After that leave, if you want,” he rubs his thumb into the corner of his lips. “Though I wouldn’t really advise leaving, and I definitely need your help.” 

“So I should stay because?” 

“Safety. Security.” his smile is bitter. “What else can a person want during the end of times?” 

“Someone they can trust.” 

“You can trust me.” 

You look him over. He must’ve sensed your immediate hostility because his gaze slowly moves to you. He returns your suspicion in like, contemplating what to say. You don’t trust him. He doesn’t trust you. Javier’s fingers twitch and his hand moves to clap over his pocket. He lets out a sigh of relief when he feels the familiar shape of a cigarette box. 

He licks his lips again. 

You gaze out the windows. They’re thick with dust and vines, the outside seems a tad bit brighter now, the gray clouds clearing up a bit. 

“Being addicted must be hard,” you mutter. “What are you going to do when you run out? Sacrifice yourself for a box of Marlboros?” 

He chuckles. “Maybe. Who knows. I’m not out of stock yet.” 

“Not a very comforting thing to hear from a man that’s arguing that I should trust him.” 

“It’s not like I said I’d trade you for a pack of cigarettes.” 

“Who knows. That’s what you said, right?” 

He sighs and gets up. He walks down the narrow hall of the train, hands brushing over the headrests. You follow him outside, and just like you suspected, the weather is grossly warm with no light. The dry weeds crunch under your boots. Javier pulls out the crumpled pack and offers you one; you shake your head. You’re surrounded by trees, with little to see except the sky.

“Wouldn’t want to dry out your stock faster.” 

“That scared of what I’ll do if I run out?” he smiles, placing the butt of the cigarette between his lips. “I’m trying to figure out if you’re paranoid or smart.” 

“Paranoia works.” 

“I guess that’s true.” he mutters, lighting a match. “So what are you going to do? Stay or leave?” 

Javier inhales deeply, his lips not too tight not too loose. A soft groan vibrates from the back of his throat and he lets go of the smoke. Your eyes follow the dance of it, twisting and dissipating like the vapor on the first exhales of winter. He places the cigarette back between his lips and tucks his hands behind as he leans back into the metal surface of the train.  

He waits as you think. It’s ironic really, the fact that you’re actually contemplating staying with him. Needless to say, FEDRA and the fireflies don’t have the best relationship, but you guess that’s all behind you now. There are no organizations at this moment, no rebellions. Just him and you; two people looking for a way to survive. 

You turn to stare at the train. It’s nearly completely intact— there are six cars and the locomotive. If you stare hard enough you can spot the tracks buried under the moss and grass. It would take a lot of work, but indeed it was possible to turn it into a living space. 

“Give me a gun,” you say and he smiles. 

“What makes you think I have more than one?” 

“Then give me the one.” you press. 

“The first thing you said to me this morning was that you wanted to shoot me.” he pushes himself away from the metal surface. Pulling his cigarette away from his lips, he stands an inch away from you and holds your gaze. His smile disappears as smoke fans across your face, making your stomach churn. “Are you going to stay?” he asks. 

“If you give me the gun then sure.” you tilt your chin up. “I don’t trust FEDRA.” 

“I’m not FEDRA anymore and you’re not a firefly.” 

“You were once. I think you can see why I have my reservations. You weren’t just any FEDRA soldier, you were a part of it in Kansas City. I heard horror stories about that place.” you rub your eyes, trying to erase what they had seen. “And I actually witnessed the fables.”  

Javier takes a step back then, admitting defeat. Something horrific seems to cross his face, a series of violent images perhaps, or maybe it was the loss of his “friends” whatever it was you don’t pay much mind to it. Everyone has pain. Even children who are meant to be carefree and happy. You’re surprised when he suddenly hands you the gun, cigarette loose between his lips. You take the weapon. It’s heavy in your hand, cold between your fingers. 

“Satisfied?” 

“Very much so, yes.” you don’t smile, but you pull an expression very similar to it. He exhales another breath of smoke, and you push the gun under your waistband. “Where do we start?” 

“You can’t be serious, Carillo.” 

It was dark and he could barely see the figure of his colleague. Javier had the intention of stepping forward and taking the gun from the other, but he stood there instead, heart beating in his throat. His stomach churned, bile thick on his tongue. Carillo didn’t bother to look at him. There was a man that was on his knees in front of the captain, his head bowed, shaking like a leaf. Carillo aimed his gun at him, his jaw tense. 

“You rather them kill us?” 

“I rather none of us kill each other.” 

Carillo finally turned to him then. Javier would expect the captain’s eyes to soften but they didn’t. 

“You heard what happened in the other QZ’s,” he spat. “Soldiers being killed, murdered. The people rioting. We can’t let weeds grow free Peña, he already killed one of us. You heard the rumors to overthrow FEDRA.” 

Before Javier could say anything a gunshot echoed, a body fell lifelessly to the concrete. He didn’t move. He didn’t even twitch. He just watched. Carillo placed a hand on his shoulder and the skin under Javier’s shirt burned—his stomach trembled then. 

“Ya no vivimos en un mundo de misericordia. Elige un bando.” 

Pick a side. 

Carillo left, Javier followed. Without thinking, his hand went to his empty flask. The cool metal under his fingertips did little to soothe him.

It’s odd being here with him. You feel trapped by nature, by circumstance. Nothing is the same and nothing would ever be the same. You lean over and sweep out the glass into a tattered bag. Javier had decided on burying the glass or anything else you might find and have no use for down into the dirt. You didn’t have any objections to that. When you lean over to pick up a piece of a broken wine bottle, you feel the gun Javier gave you pressing into the skin of your hip. 

You always hated cleaning before the outbreak. Now it was a soothing thing to do. It felt normal. A reminisce of the past. Still, you can’t help but feel sick from being at ease. Change has to happen. But with the immune girl gone, and the fireflies basically disbanded (at least that was what you could tell from Marlene's massage) there is nothing you can do. 

You see Javier approaching, a sheer amount of sweat coats his skin, his shirt clinging to his body. Surprisingly, he’s silent. You had expected him to talk, to pry into your past life. But he seemed to be content with just cleaning for now. 

“We should scout the area,” he says when he catches your gaze. “Look for abandoned houses, supplies. Maybe we can find a fruit bush or something and plant some here for food.” 

“You do know there’s no way this is going to be like…a peaceful suburb residence right?” 

“A man can only dream.” 

He wipes a bead of sweat from his brow and your curiosity gets the better of you. 

“I need to ask,” you say and he piques with interest. “Why FEDRA? No offense but you don’t exactly look the type.” 

“I remember you saying that the first time you saw me.” 

“Still surprised you didn’t shoot me then, considering who I was.” 

“No offense but you didn’t exactly look the terrorist type. I didn’t know who, or what, you were.” 

“We weren’t terrorists.” 

“So you guys didn’t plant bombs?”  he asks sounding amused. “You didn’t kill people?” 

You narrow your eyes, heat pooling under your skin. “Only pieces of shit like you.” 

“I thought I didn’t look the type?” he sighs and shakes his head. “Look I’m not going to argue the ethics of it all and you’re definitely right. The things they—we did, FEDRA, It’s inexcusable. But don’t come here and tell me the fireflies were squeaky clean.” he takes the broken bottle from you and throws it into the bag. “I don’t want to fight about this. I don’t want to argue with you all the time. I’m not telling you I’m a good person, I don’t understand why you have to remind me. I know I’m not.” 

Silence follows. Your anger shifts into guilt and you push those feelings down. He gives you one last stern look before turning his back to you. 

“But neither are you so let’s stop bulshitting ourselves. And if you’re going to start interrogating me about my decisions—about my past— I recommend you not cuss me out a minute later.” 

His steps are loud as he leaves. You notice he left the bag behind, meaning that you managed to rile him up enough that he just had to get away from you. You probably deserved that. You don’t understand how he can shove the past aside so carelessly, how he can just forget what he’d done, what you’d done. But he was right, you aren’t a good person. Unlike him, you enjoy believing that you are. Joining the fireflies…it made you believe that you were doing good, that you were better and more noble. The killings you did were for the greater good, the people that ended up under the rubble of explosions were just a sacrifice that needed to be made—you told yourself that, again and again. 

Maybe you aren’t as bad as FEDRA but you aren’t that above it either. 

You contemplate going after him. Apologize without actually apologizing. You remember a time you used to break the tension by making a joke, how did you do that again? You can’t quite remember. 

You shake your head and continue to clear out the debris. He’ll come back. You can think about what to do then. 

Javier does eventually come back, but not before the sun had set. 

The stars appear one by one, and you hate to admit that you’d worried about him. Being alone is worse than being with someone you hate. 

Dirt and dust sit uncomfortably on your skin. After an entire day of work, you managed to clear out the broken glass, rust metals, dead insects, and rodents (you shudder at the memory). Now all of it lays outside, waiting to be taken further away from the train. 

“Where were you?” you ask when he arrives, you notice a bow strapped to his back. “And where did you find that?” 

“Careful, it almost sounds like you were worried about me.” he grins as if he hadn’t stormed away from you when the sun was at the very top. You decide to let it slide. He lifts two rabbits and your eyes go wide. “I went looking around a bit. Found this in an abandoned cabin, then did some hunting. Assuming you’d be hungry.” 

“Thanks. I…actually forgot that we need to eat.” 

“Help me build a fire?” 

You answer. “Sure.” 

The process of building a fire has become as natural as breathing air. If it were a couple of years ago, most people wouldn’t know how to build a fire but that wasn’t the case now. You doubt that anyone who had survived in this world did so by not knowing how to create flames from scraps of wood and dried leaves. Even the children know. That’s just the world they grow up in now. 

Your eyes constantly follow him whenever he moves and you can’t decide if it’s due to old habits or is it because of something else. He has a bizarre aura about him. Something that you can’t quite read. He’s soft. You’ve met a lot of FEDRA soldiers back in the day, have argued and fought against them, but you never met someone like him. He has a bite to his words, but you see the kindness swirling in his eyes, suffocating him from the inside out. It’s an odd contrast and makes you feel uncomfortable. 

He’s a man that has been beaten down by the world and the system. Him asking you to stay here is his way of giving up on everything he wanted for the world. You can see it as vividly as you see the stars. Just glimpses of his backstory winking down at you. 

The flames come alive, roaring and eating the rabbits whole. Javier had taken the job of cooking for himself, patiently watching the fire, he pokes the sizzling meat from time to time. 

“You like cooking?” you ask, and your eyes water when the wind blows the ashes into your face. 

“I did,” he answers without looking. “I wouldn’t really say I particularly enjoy cooking this.”

You cross your legs as Javier hands you a branch, skewered with rabbit meat. You take a moment to examine the branch, noting the rough texture of the wood and the way it's been stripped of any leaves or twigs. The delicate slices of meat have been threaded onto the branch with care and precision, each one spaced perfectly apart.

He takes his own portion and sits across from you, the flames curling into the air in between. He doesn’t say a word as he takes the first bite. You watch him chew. The flames lick his face, the tip of his nose a dusted red. Javier swallows and when he does you bring a piece to your lips and slowly chew. It’s gamey, slightly sweet. Overall, tastes pretty damn good. 

Your lips twitch up to a small smile. Biting into it more eagerly this time, your stomach growls as you swallow. 

“This actually tastes pretty good,” you mutter, feeling the fat from the rabbit coating your lips. 

“Well, don’t go overboard.” 

“It’s the truth.”

When you lower your gaze back down to the meat, you don’t miss the way a smile curls at his lips. The night grows louder and you two finish the rest of your dinner in silence. You hear crickets, the leaves rustling with the wind. A sweet scent touches your nose, something like newly blossomed flowers. You look into the distance and all you can see is darkness. 

Your eyes play games with you, shows you shadows of people, tricks you into thinking that you and Javier might’ve been followed by Katleen’s resistance. 

You blink. 

No. 

There’s no one there. 

Your pulse skyrockets, your heart beating in your throat. Vibrating, you turn back to Javier only to see that he’s already staring at you. His look is one of understanding, his lips relaxed as his eyes flit around your face. 

“Are you alright?” 

“Yeah,” you breathe out. “I just thought—” you look back to the silhouette of trees. “I thought I saw something.” 

“The curse of the forest,” he answers, placing a cigarette between his lips. He realizes he doesn’t have his matches with him so he leans forward and lights it from the source. Javier’s face illuminates, and you see splashes of blood, of death. It lingers over his skin, curls around his throat, stains the white of his eyes. “It makes us see things we don’t wanna see.” 

“There was this girl,” you suddenly say, swallowing down the gasp that threatened to slip from your lips. He raises an eyebrow and sits back, listening. “Marlene told us that she was immune. I was supposed to meet up with them in Boston.” 

“Immune?” he scoffs. “Immune to what?” 

“Cordyceps.” 

“Bullshit.” 

“No, it’s true,” you answer with a sudden need to convince him. You’re not sure why. “She got bit and never turned.” 

“Did you actually see it?” he exhales a puff of smoke when you shake your head. He believes he made his point. “So what about this girl? Is there a reason why you’re telling me this or are you just that afraid of the dark?” 

You bite into your bottom lip, the sting offering a fleeting relief. “It’s not that I’m afraid. It’s just too silent. It feels…naked.” 

“Naked?” he asks, grinning, he steals the cigarette from between his lips and evens his gaze with yours. “We’re covered, cariño. Nothing to worry about.” 

“Famous last words,” you tease, ignoring how his tongue rolled as he mumbled cariño. “I guess I’m not used to it yet. There’s always something to fight. Someone is always lurking in the shadows.” 

He voices out the rest of your thoughts, “It’s like all the noise and chaos of the world has disappeared, leaving you with nothing but your thoughts.”

You take a deep breath of the crisp forest air. 

Emotionally, you want to lean into him. There’s a need in your chest that doesn’t go away but it’s tainted with the anger and the hatred of the organizations that tear you away from each other. He might’ve wanted to do good once, but he chose the wrong side. He thought fireflies were terrorists, and maybe to some you were. However, at least you weren’t fascists and tried to help the people. For better or for worse.

“It doesn’t hurt does it?” he says, guiding your attention back to him. Javier looks up to the sky, takes a deep inhale of smoke. It spills from his lips as he continues. “To have someone by your side.” 

No, you think as you get up and head into the train, it doesn’t. 

You don’t know what it is this time that wakes you up. There’s no noise. The only thing that convinces you that you’re not in a soundproof cell is the moonlight filtering through the dirty windows. You watch as the pine leaves move together, you’ve always enjoyed the smell of it. The sound of it comes like an afterthought, slowly gaining and getting louder. 

You get up when you feel the train shake. 

Javier is in the same spot that he always sleeps in, only a couple rows ahead. You move past him and you sneak a glance. His lips twitch and move as he sleeps. 

Stepping outside, you take in the same sight as before. It’s still eerie. 

Interestingly enough since the fire was gone the darkness seemed lighter somehow. A shimmering blackness. The moonlight probably helped. 

Dry earth cracks under your boots. The sound of the trees now mixed with something else, something violent and cruel yet beautiful. You feel the gun on your hip and travel deeper into the forest. The scent of pine and flowers that only bloom during the night stronger. The train is still visible so you don’t worry much about the distance in between. Your fingers brush over the tree trunks, you feel the moss, the sticky resin. 

You hear a click. 

Click. Click. Click. 

Just ahead there’s a clicker, moving with its arms bent and dragging its feet through the soil. Swallowing, you take a slow step back. Then another. And another. 

The chill of the night stings your skin, sticky from sweat and burning. The clicker turns in your direction and you stop moving, your one foot suspended in the air. It gains momentum, head twisting and turning. Very slowly you lower your foot, and your heart beats loud in your chest. Surely the clicker hears it. 

Fuck. 

The sound of the branch snapping underneath you was like a gunshot, reverberating through the stillness of the woods.

You don’t even get the chance to pull out the gun on your hip. 

You’re slammed into the dirt, all air forced out of your lungs. You struggle against it but it’s too heavy, too wild to be pushed off of you. The clicker screams into your face, the stench horrid. Bile builds in your throat and coats your stomach. You’re helpless. 

It makes a move towards your hands and you pull them away, its full weight suffocating you. Killing you. You can’t breathe. 

Tears flood your eyes. You know you’re about to die because you see your life flashing before your eyes, snippets of the past and possible future. You think of the fireflies, of Marlene. You see earth cleansed from the virus. 

You see Javier. He’s smiling, leading you in a dance around the wilting flames. You don’t push the thoughts away. You take them as a blessing in moments of lingering death. 

A gunshot echoes. You hear the bullet cutting through the air, whistling in the night. It sinks into the clicker’s shoulder, you hear another one, this time the bullet strikes its head.  The clicker collapses. Before you can shove the lifeless vessel away, it’s being lifted. 

You can breathe again. 

Javier is standing before you, his brows creased with worry. His lips are parted as if he’s about to say something but you beat him to it. You’re still gasping for air when you speak. 

“You had a gun.” 

“Yeah,” he heaves, sweat clinging to his chest and moonlight trickling down his skin. “I had a fucking gun.” 

Oh man, you guys have no idea how excited I am to finally be sharing the first chapter. I hope you guys enjoyed it, I'll probably be posting a new chapter every Saturday (the first 3 chapters will def go up and Saturdays, after that, if everything goes well, I'll continue it the same way)

A few thank you's are in order; @pedrito-friskito , @inklore , @fuckyeahdindjarin and @pedrorascal who listened to me go on and on about this and for their endless moral support ♥︎ and thank you to @laters-gators who beta'd this.

[vickyvicarious]

I noticed something that I thought you may find interesting as you like parallels: When Jack is on his rock bottom (July 20th), he says

To me it seems only yesterday that my whole life ended with my new hope, and that truly I began a new record. So it will be until the Great Recorder sums me up and closes my ledger account with a balance to profit or loss. Oh, Lucy, Lucy, I cannot be angry with you, nor can I be angry with my friend whose happiness is yours; but I must only wait on hopeless and work. Work! work! If I only could have as strong a cause as my poor mad friend there—a good, unselfish cause to make me work—that would be indeed happiness.

On October 3 Jonathan starts his journal like this:

As I must do something or go mad, I write this diary. [...] Poor Mina told me just now, with the tears running down her dear cheeks, that it is in trouble and trial that our faith is tested—that we must keep on trusting; and that God will aid us up to the end. The end! oh my God! what end?... To work! To work!

It's pretty fascinating how Jonathan starts his narration as a hopeful, enthusiastic man, full of purpose, and becomes similar to the wreck that Jack was at the start, post-rejection, losing hope and clinging furiously to working, to not lose his mind.

Work! To work! That is a fun parallel to be sure...

Actually, I've noted before that Jonathan and Jack start out in opposition to one another in a lot of ways:

engaged to be married vs proposal rejected

recent career advancement and excited about it vs already well established but still clearly wanting to make his mark somehow

held prisoner by someone who calls him 'friend' and abuses power over him vs abusing the power he holds over someone in his care who he calls 'friend' (and all the various subsets of this one, such as 'gets his correspondence read' to 'reads private diary of his patient', etc.)

isolated by force vs chooses to isolate himself (not entirely but he definitely does retreat into work)

sleep-deprived due to being forced into a nocturnal schedule vs appears to regularly suffer insomnia/have bad habits around sleep

coded secret diary on pencil and paper vs audio diary spoken aloud into a phonograph at work

In the very beginning, Jonathan is also looking forward very much to his future, while as you point out, Jack is pretty miserable. He is ending his former life, closing a chapter. Meanwhile Jonathan is starting one - though it doesn't turn out to be the one he expects by any means.

I've not really considered the ways that those comparisons may shift later, though. October 3rd is definitely a close to a former chapter/life and the start of a new one for Jonathan. And he too struggles a lot with keeping up hope and throws himself into his work, his cause.

(While Jack wished in vain for a cause that would let him throw all his morals away, and looks to the idea of that as something that would make the work more effective in easing his own distress, Jonathan has a cause right away. And he later determines that he will throw his morals away if it come to that but is working ceaselessly to ensure it won't. Though he too has plenty of moments when there is no real action he can take and he "must only wait on hopeless" while they are trying to catch Dracula's ship.)

And while Jonathan never is romantically rejected, there's later a door shut between him and Mina, and there's this huge unspoken tension of what to do if she becomes a vampire. On the other hand, Jack was never accepted as Lucy's lover, but he does later on get closer to her as a friend while she is his patient. Their careers also switch emphasis a bit; though both abandon everything to go vampire hunting, prior to that Jonathan inherits everything and can put his name on it, while Jack is exhausted from treating Lucy and not keeping up super well with his work/patients. Increasingly after his arrival but especially when chasing after Dracule, Jack is in fairly close communication with Van Helsing and working as a team, but Jonathan gets very quiet and withdrawn when Mina is turning into a vampire (he always was but when he's not all living flame, in the aftermath of October 3 he appears even more so). We even get a little bit of Jonathan refusing to sleep when he should/can (until Arthur convinces him), while Jack is traveling at a rapid pace but his likely sacrifice of sleep is necessary to keep up that pace (and he claims it doesn't bother him). Jonathan kills his former captor/abuser. Jack's patient dies after he refused to let him leave when he begged to do so.

...If I'm looking for them, I can definitely find various ways they continue to be in contrast later in the novel as well.

[lemonswoop]

Stray is one of my top 10 games of all time, so I decided to do a little replay to remind myself why I love it so much.

Full journal entry under the cut

Stray

Start date:8/18

End date: 8/27

Platform: Steam Deck

Hours played: 14

Rating: 5/5

On the day I finished Stray I sat back and said "I can feel this game is going to be very special to me." It's an odd game to be in my top 10 games of all time. I knew the simple concept of playing as a little cat (with me being a huge cat lover) would be an instant favorite, but I didn't expect that the message of the game would hit a particular soft spot in my heart.

What I thought would be a silly little cat sim set in a cyberpunk city turned out to be a twist on the classic dystopian future filled with hope, love and the beauty of the human spirit.

The game starts off with a cat falling into a walled slums of a domed society where humans have been dead for thousands of years. Our tiny cat protagonist meets the very last known human in existence, B12, a scientist whose consciousness gets uploaded into a tiny drone. Disease and plague ravaged the futuristic city, leaving nothing but memories and the robot companions programed to serve its lost inhabitants. But something special happened;

In the forsaken slums, gritty and filled with despair, hope thrived before the humans passed. When energy was capped, rebellion lit up the city with neon lights. When things seemed bleak, humans created art, tended to thriving plants, and hugged their loved ones tight. They went to bars to get sloppy drunk and laugh off the dark times with friends.

They Lived.

"Humans often said that making art is important in desperate situations. There are certainly desperate times."

Humans may have passed, but humanity lived on in the companion robots who gained sentience. The only models they had was what humanity had left behind for them. In the lowest levels of society is where the beautiful parts of humanity survived. The robot citizens didn't need to eat, wear clothes, love one another, but they did so because of the examples that were left for them. They fostered a community to protect one another all while dreaming of it all being better somehow.

The main goal of a small group was to open up the domed city, see the blue sky and go back to the long abandoned outside. It's what the humans would have wanted, and a place the robots have only ever heard about in stories.

One of my favorite aspects of the game is that while it reaches far beyond the scope of a little cat plot-wise, the cat represented a larger theme of hope for better still existing and it was time to start trying to reach it again. The cat inspired brave and bold actions in the robots, all resulting in finally reaching the top of the walled city. A sterile place where the rich and powerful operation controllers all lived; now gone. And in that city no culture, no art, no humanity survived. The robots were just robots, forever following the last directive they were given before humanity perished.; A pristine wasteland.

B12, the last human, sacrifices himself to take down the system and open the walled city to the bright blue sky. No longer did B12 feel the need to carry the weight of humanities past because they never left. They just belonged to a new society lovingly passed down. A future existed where our best qualities as a collective are what survived.

Sometimes I feel as if the beautiful message of this game gets overlooked, which is a shame when its a message I feel we all can use when the world at large feels bleak.

Nothing is ever wasted or in vain. The beauty of humanity is in what we leave behind. Even the small and whimsical things that only exist to bring us joy; they all matter.

Making music, art, reading, tending to a garden, hugging a loved one, holding onto hope... and yes, loving and finding companionship in a little cat.

"But I see a future in the companions, and in you."

[fel-09]

When I get you out of my mind

Chapte 1

Warning: Yandere, ambiguous protagonist

Pairing: Carlisle Cullen x fem!reader

Special note: if there are any mistakes, sorry, English is not my native language

________________________________________________________________________

Spring 1745 , France

there was a heavy smell of flowers in the air, which had already bloomed, and their petals fluttered in the wind like snow, the atmosphere was ramontic, sickly sweet, this time of year was the best time if you had to admit to your other half about the feelings, the big bell on top of the church rang non-stop, your heart was pounding painfully with it in rythm swallowing a lump in grief, and clenching your gloved hands while looking at the scene unfolding in front of your eyes, it was not only difficult to breathe because of the unbearable smell of flowers, which you could even taste if you closed your mouth, but also the sight of your lover who cordially handed flowers to another woman, It hurts and is not pleasant so much that you wanted to rot on the ground with these flower petals , taking your last breath away , But to spite you, this world unfolded a monstrous picture before you , closing your mouth so as not to make an unnecessary sound.

You and Carlisle met at one of the balls of the aristocracy , the man kindly extended a helping hand to you when you are in you desperately needed it , namely when your father died , at that moment you were so overwhelmed with grief that you could no longer get up and leave his coffin , but he helped you by grabbing your arms and calmed you down , forcing you to find a new meaning in life in the form of him, the way he touched you so tenderly and carefully remained in your creation, entrenched, you wanted to be in his arms again, desperately in need, he became your breath, Every time you came to the ball first, what you did was looking for him with your eyes, and when you noticed you went straight to him, hoping to dance with him to feel his touch on your body once more, but as much as you would like to dance with Carlisle forever, you had to move away after the first dance.

Little by little, you began to get closer because of your brother, who decided to finance the doctor, Carlisle often came to your House, for dinner or just on business , attempts to talk at these moments were successful , you were drawn to listen to his voice the way he gesticulated, your eyes caught his every wave of his hand , and God, oh not your thoughts at that moment were not the purest, you wanted to punish yourself for this, which is why regular church attendance began to become a habit

when you stood and saw Carlisle give the flowers to Esme, in this place you prayed that the Lord would forgive you, probably this is your punishment for unholy thoughts in front of the Lord God himself.After Carlisle got closer to you, he confessed...that to love someone, it gave you hope and there was also a feeling of fear, because maybe it wasn't you but someone else, the doubts were true, it turned out to be a girl from family of merchants who bought the title with money, One day she was invited to one of the parties, where he meet her and Esme fell into his soul, it hurt the most to hear these words from the first mouth (Carlisle), Now, when he gave these flowers to Esme, which she refused with the words that she already has a future husband, it still hurt you... After all, Carlisle was the kind of man who could be said to be Monogamous..And even though you were friends, it wasn't enough for you...

Your legs were shaking at that moment, and your heart was squeezed in despair, the disgusting smell of flowers was carried into your skin , and those blue flowers that were abandoned became your non-genuine flowers , locked up after this in house, you did not go out, you did not eat anything, it was always more difficult to get out of bed After this day , there were many rumors in your circles about you , and the reasons for your fatherhood, your brother who took care of you tried to feed you at least porridge was in despair, Carlisle, in turn, tried to talk to you, but every time he was rejected by your brother, your brother was afraid that if you found out that he came, he would bring you even more pain.

________________________________________________________________________

There won't be a second part because I didn't really like the fanfic.

[circyexistforcontent]

SAGAU SCARAMOUCHE RATES YOUR TASTE IN GENSHIN MEN...

❀ synopsis: you introduce your friend/unofficial sibling to your lover. What could possibly go wrong? everything... pt.2 is here!

❀ pronouns: they/them

Traveler/Aether: 7/10

Enjoy that passing score because that will be your only passing score from here on out. While he does respect the traveler, he wouldn't hesitate to threaten him with another battle if he ever raises his hand on you. Though the threats would be told in private since Scaramouche is what you can call a Tsundere, initially he despises you when the two of you first met and wasn't scared to show it.

You were persistent in at least being his acquaintance, which he thought was foolish for a god like you. Aren't you supposed to be all-knowing? You would know by now that it's hopeless to be his friend. And you would know the reasons why.

But surely enough, you grew to be a stigma in his everyday life. Now he can't go through the day without at least seeing you once. And he loathes that fact. But what can he do? His emotions got the better of him again, he can't bare the thought of losing you and he'd be damned if some blonde with a dull blade is going to hurt you when he's around.

But out of everyone in Teyvat, he tolerates Traveler the most despite being on rocky terms with him. Because he is your first host, and through the traveler, you two met. And that will be the only thing he will thank the traveler for. Every time you greet him with a hug he will be there in the background with arms crossed boring his eyes on the back of their skull. Ahem, excuse me (Y/N), where is his hug? He's here too y'know...

Venti/Barbatos: 3/10

Hopefully, you don't tell the secret of Venti being one of the archons because he despises them. But even with Venti's disguise he still wouldn't like him, why are you dating an alcoholic bard? Don't you know you can do better than this? (It's not like he will approve of it even if you bring a girl/boy straight out of a fairytale) Just like with Aether, he threatens Venti with what will happen if he ever breaks your heart. Venti just laughs off his threats, reassuring him that he wouldn't dream of it.

Scaramouche sulks and mumbles curses under his breath every time he witnesses Venti serenading you in public. His jealousy flares whenever he sees Venti clinging to your arm as he tries to persuade you to move into Monstadt, he would sometimes invade your conversation to tell him that you're already happy living in Sumeru (living with him) and that you won't move in Monstadt.

Venti would catch on quickly that Scaramouche was jealous, and would sometimes find amusement in provoking the child (Because in Venti's eyes, he is one) by kissing you on the cheek when he knows Scaramouche is looking. When the two are alone, Venti would tease him. Saying how he's planning to propose to you and that the both of them should try to get along since he will be your future husband. At those times Scaramouche wanted to murder him right then and there.

Despite the teasing, Venti does try to gain Scaramouche's approval since you and Scaramouche have a bond like siblings. Though I don't see him fully liking Venti, he would learn to tolerate him more as time passes. Scaramouche is protective (possessive even) with you, and has certified abandonment issues. He can never learn to accept that you have other people in your life. Because you're the only person he has left in his life.

Kamisato Ayato: 5/10

He didn't like him before and he doesn't like him now, knowing that he is loyal to Ei. The only thing he likes about him is that he's not always with you, which gives the both of you some time together. But when he is with you he can't help but eyeball him from a distance, observing how he acts towards you.

He knows Ayato is a cunning and unpredictable man, so whenever he approaches you Scaramouche would linger in the background. Though he knows Ayato is a gentleman and wouldn't sink low enough to hit you. So he gives him that. Doesn't mean he won't get jealous though.

On the occasion when Ayato does have time with you, he would stalk and follow the both of you to make sure nothing suspicious happens. Whenever the two of you kiss he has to stop himself from gagging, especially if it's a long and slow kind of kiss. The moment the date is done and Ayato leaves he acts like a 5-year-old wanting to spend time with their oldest sibling.

"You spend more time with him than me..." He would tell you while leaning on your shoulder. Scaramouche, sweetie, they just spoke with you this morning for 5 hours straight what do you mean they spend more time with Ayato-

Tartaglia/Childe: -1/10

He has warned the Fatui to not go make contact with you by any means necessary. And if they did then they would be severely punished. Not only has Childe talked to you, but has the audacity to court you, and you accepted! Don't you know how dangerous he is? He's part of the Fatui!

So is he? W-well he's different ok?! (he's not like other Fatui members✨) At least Scaramouche didn't pretend to be your friend, and he protects you now! So does Childe? He's better than Childe! You don't need him when he's already here with you!

His envy skyrockets after this discovery. What does Tartaglia have that he doesn't? The thought lingers in his head as he surmises what could be the reason for you accepting Childe's love.

But he couldn't find one. He doesn't understand, how can you love him? He scrutinizes Childe every time he approaches you with a bouquet of your favorite flowers, he scoffs at Childe's attempts to get closer to him and ignores him whenever he asks Scaramouche if he can take you out on a date. He will never trust Tartaglia with you. He doesn't care how many times you tell him that you love him. The moment Childe turns his back on you, he wouldn't hold back.

"I'm the clingy one? Pfft! Yeah right, if anything you're the one who- hey! When did I tell you to stop holding my hand?"