#(also just realized i need more Earth icons buT he's barely in any episodes *sobs*)

[cyberseignis]

|| @sworntolight liked for a starter!

Link Vrains had changed a lot. Earth wondered how much of this was due to the humans, or if the network had just grown on its own. But he supposed that would remain a mystery. It wasn’t exactly like he could ask anyone. As he observed the players clustered together off in the distance, he wondered if anyone he knew was among them. Not that it mattered, for safety reasons he couldn’t make contact anyways.

Speaking of, he could hear someone getting a little too close to his location. Earth ducked down under one of the outcroppings of the floating island he was currently occupying, counting on whoever it was to pass over him as usual. Aqua would certainly chew him out if he was seen.

[mirahuyooo]

Nighthawk | ksj

Nighthawk

—No matter the effort, he always plagues your mind in nights like this one, reminding you of the feelings you let get out of hand.

Word Count: 1,638 Contents: AnGST, a smidgen of fluff and crack, jin and y/n are besties OwO Pairing: Kim Seokjin x Reader A/N: I noticed I haven’t written anything for jin in a long while (shame on me) so here’s this! I’m in mood for love—unrequited love. Hope you all enoyed! Today’s sad, sad piece is inspired by the word;

Nighthawk

n. a recurring thought that only seems to strike you late at night—an overdue task, a nagging guilt, a looming and shapeless future—that circles high overhead during the day, that pecks at the back of your mind while you try to sleep, that you can successfully ignore for weeks, only to feel its presence hovering outside the window, waiting for you to finish your coffee, passing the time by quietly building a nest.

P.S. I just wanna remind everyone that dYNAMITE IS COMING SOON oehgtiuabrgujbaufg prepare YOUR LoINS eveRYONE we’RE about tO gET deSTROYED ahksgabrigk

[masterlist]

A sigh leaves your lips as you close the door behind you, setting your bag down on the nearby kitchen counter. It was late—very late. Your face disappears behind the hand that you had brought forth to rub the furrowing of your eyebrows away. There was a damning silence that reigned over your empty Seoul city apartment, and you were attacked from it reflecting your current state, leaving you no choice but to throw yourself in bed.

The moonlight filters lightly through the curtains, casting over the lump of blankets you soon cocooned yourself in. Not even bothering to slip out of the clothes you’ve been wearing for the past twelve hours, you buried your face into one of the many spare pillows you had placed around you, hugging it closer to your chest as you dealt with the fissures seizing your heart. Alas, the frustration of not falling asleep adds to the weight you carry with you. At the very least, with the pillows surrounding you, whatever demons lurking in the dark won’t be able to add to the problems you were dealing with.

You knew it was a senseless and pathetic feat. All of this was practically your own fault. You were, after all, the architect of your own melancholy, and, for some unfortunate reason, you were exceptionally good at this particular skill.

Fuelling your despair, you deemed it befitting to punish yourself by reaching for your phone and further depriving yourself of much needed sleep. You’ve been lying around for what seemed like eternity—you weren’t quite sure. Your mind barely registers the numbers that the clock displayed before you, and in all honesty, you’ve lost the ability to care about it at all. You’ve stayed up well past the hours of 2 AM before, doing the same self-wallowing sessions you were doing right now. You had long been a seasoned connoisseur in ploughing through ungodly hours—something he’s always scolded you for.

As some sort of hilarious joke you couldn’t quite understand, fate throws something in your way as you scroll through Twitter—a picture of you and the very man who’s been plaguing your thoughts at 2:18 AM in the morning—Kim Seokjin. Even as your eyes start to blur with tears, they still drink his beauty in—his plump lips, his deep piercing eyes, and his confident gait. Combine those compelling factors with his welcoming persona, astounding cooking skills, and sheer talent, and you’ve got yourself one fine man that you’ve been simping over for the past decade or so. Oh, how blessed you’d be if he was yours.

Unfortunately, there also existed compelling factors that couldn’t make Kim Seokjin yours.

For instance, there was your remarkable trait of being a damn coward. Residing so long within the realm of the accursed Friend Zone had fashioned your fears into mighty beasts that bullied you into staying within the borders of the said zone, regardless of your countless attempts to escape it. Always at the last minute, your mind compels you to retreat at the nightmare of ruining the friendship you two had fostered over so many years—should he ever realize that you were a peasant compared to his princely attributes.

Speaking of being low beneath him, you very much were one. You’ve made peace with your inferiority to his beauty and lifestyle, so much that you could stomach sitting next to him in all of your bare-faced, broke glory. You were well aware that you were average—disagreeable next to him, but average nonetheless.

In other aspects, your mundane life also pales in contrast to his exhilarating endeavors. He’s a beloved icon—a passionate singer and graceful dancer who tours the world to meet the millions he’s touched with his words and his group’s songs. You, on the other hand, exist on the other side of the spectrum. You were no one special really, which you really didn’t mind since you weren’t keen on being in the spotlight. The closest shot to fame you ever had was when you were revealed to be Kim Seokjin’s non-showbiz best friend who once shamelessly dominated him on an episode of EatJin.

You weren’t even his type, which had greatly satiated the accusations of some fans—it’s still undecided if you should take full offense on that one. You weren’t the cutesy, feminine, soft girl that’s often alluded to be matched with him. You were capable of a meal or two, but you were no master chef. The only thing in the box that you know you fulfil very well is that you take care of him—and you’re enormously proud of that accomplishment of yours.  

As much as you mother him at times, there are still many a days where you wonder why on Earth he even remains as your best friend—what more if he was to be your boyfriend?

Another sigh leaves your lips once again, tearing your eyes away from the screen to stare up at the moon outside your window—the sole witness of the late night happenings that occur within the premises of your desolate life. Ah, but even the moon would remind you of him.

There was a sensation going abuzz within you—something you knew all too well. You’ve done your best to ignore the infestation of feelings that had apprehended your very being, even attempting to exterminate it by going on numerous blind dates. Unfortunately, the damn lovebug has always damned you, always surviving and multiplying with every sweet gesture, every dashing smile, and every uplifting heart-to-heart that he delivers to you.

All of a sudden, your phone rings. The screen reveals the face of the very man you’ve been having a debate with your mind about. Jin was calling you.

“Why does he have to be like this?” you whined to no one in particular, snivelling away as you were further left a mess. The moment your hand properly holds the device again, you glare at the image. “I hate him,” you grumble, but not really.

As soon as you answered, you weren’t given a chance to talk. “Why are you online?” he instantly asks you in that scolding tone you were so familiar with.

Your heart flutters, even you went to roll your eyes. “Why are you up?” you countered childishly, voice raspy from your recent breakdown.

Jin’s delectable chuckle makes you squeak into the plush of a nearby pillow. “Ya! I just woke up,” he defensively says, not seeming to take notice of your little stunt. “I’m just grabbing a little snack, and then I’ll go back to bed,” he informs you, “busy day tomorrow, after all.”  

You hum, as your insides continue with its attempts to betray you. “I couldn’t sleep,” you find yourself admitting to him in a weakened tone.

As you hear the slight ruckus in the background, Jin tsk-ed at your bad decisions. You prepared yourself to be told off. “Scrolling through social media won’t help, stupid,” he softly chastised, much to your surprise and damnation. “Drink the tea I got you from Japan,” he tells you, making you fluster. “You still have that right?”

You could only hum in response, as you further coiled into a fetal position—as if to say you were made as soft as a baby by this man. You held back a snivel, as your mess of emotions continued to make you cry over him.

“Good,” Jin says, still not aware of the true state of ruin you were in. “Go on and drink some, then. It’ll help you sleep.”

A sniff escapes you. “Okay,” you say with a whimper clinging onto the last syllable.

This time, your best friend doesn’t miss the sound. You could imagine him freezing, stopping whatever it was he was doing. “(Y/N), are you alright?” he asks, concern already pouring through in those few words alone.

Not wanting to conflict him, you went out of your way to fake a cough and a few more sniffles. “Yeah,” you said, in spite of your heart hammering against your chest. “I’m just tired from all the arranging earlier.”

The silence that followed was eventually broken by Jin clearing his throat. “Rest well then,” he tells you, before he goes to tease. “No one should look ugly at my wedding, and that includes you.”

Ah, there it was—the one last factor that cements you to the confines of your prison cell in the zone of unrequited love.

“Good night, (Y/N),” he says, voice gentle enough to destroy your heart.

In the silence that followed, Jin didn’t hang up. He never really does hang up first. You smile bitterly, tears silently flowing one after the other like a waterfall. “Goodbye, Jin,” you tell him, ending the call just as a sob wrecks through you. You put down your phone, and cry into your pillow.

Kim Seokjin—your best friend, your greatest regret—is getting married, and to a woman you knew would be perfect for him—a woman so graceful, beautiful, and skillful. After all, you were the one who had introduced the two of them together in the first place. You had no doubt that the two of them would be happily ever after.

You wonder then, if you hadn’t pushed your feelings aside so adamantly and went with the hell of it, would you have been the one in white to be waiting down the aisle? At any point in time, was there really a smidgen of a chance that Jin would’ve said that he liked you back?

You’ll never know.

Your puffy eyes wander towards the lone moon that shone brightly behind your sheer curtains. Your nightly companion was staring right back at you, but all you could hear were your thoughts.

It was all your fault.