#(this is one of like a dozen reads of childe's character i have)
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autistic Childe headcanon works because he used to be the quiet kid who wished desperately that he'd be swept away into a grand story he could live in
except then something so traumatizing happened to him that he no longer quietly daydreams about it, he unapologetically builds a construct of this dream in real life (and does not acknowledge that it's deeply flawed)
(i do wonder if holding onto that dream was what kept him fighting in the Abyss and if it's all he has left/believes he has left after. if he convinced himself that hey, at least he kind of gets to be a dashing hero even if it cost him his childhood. he's just fifteen weird ass coping mechanisms in a trenchcoat anyway)
#it also works because autistic people are fae coded a lot#and like for some autistic people (especially afabs which is a whole tangent about childe being lowkey female coded) puberty is when#we stopped being able to fit in and became 'inconvenient' for people to be around#which also makes it a traumatizing time in itself#and it's very 'where did my easy quiet well-behaved kid go?'#(this is one of like a dozen reads of childe's character i have)#(you could write a book about him and have every chapter contradict the others and still have each one be valid)#genshin#childe
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you know i mentioned last night that i realized only *after* i started rereading david copperfield that since i recently became an aunt, i was gonna see the story from a whole new angle and start relating more to betsey trotwood. i didn't even think about how at salem house i was gonna be poor mr. mell...
#i mean i didnt really think about mr. mell much because he's more of a minor character#he doesnt come back throughout david's life like steerforth or traddles or emily or agnes or#or or or all these other dozen major characters#in fact i only think of salem house as a minor part of the book. the shit we gotta get through to get to aunt betsey again#in a sense i cant wait to be done with it again#but oh my god reading about the rowdy schoolroom and how he's hardly managing to handle his stress#MEEEEE!!!!!! ME AN EDUCATOR#diana rereads david copperfield#literally just let me fucking play my flute badly in peace#you know i really have grown up a lot in the past 5 years bc all the adults used to just be caricatures to me#in the sense that all of dickens' characters are kind of caricatures. theyre exaggerated and silly#whether theyre supposed to be archetypal good or bad people.#because the way dickens uses hyperbole. sometimes it's just too true!#like the assholery of steerforth. how disingenuous but charming and persuasive he can be#that is SO true to how it feels to look up to older people as a young child. david copperfield's yielding to him is so realistic#david copperfield's own childish innocence throughout the early chapters seems comical but is emotionally true to how childhood feels.#these were the parts of the novel that resonated with me very deeply at 19. and they still do#but oh now. now i understand the position of the working adults. especially since i work w kids now how different it all feels.#and have worked w kids for several years too. but only about a year after reading dc. actually almost 2 years#im one of the bumbling incompetent adults. oh dear. oh lord.
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Allure
Part One:Sunshine
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❥MATZ x fem reader
Kim Hongjoong and Park Seonghwa. The most known and feared alphas of the new generation. It took two dozen elder alphas to subdue them and stick them in the world's most secluded prison- hidden away in the mountains. The prison that sweet little omega (Y/n)'s works at.
Knuckle Velvet (Part Two)
Smoke (Part Three)
➯a/n: i've always wanted to write a story i would like to see as a movie or show, and i very much enjoy supernatural and dark romance, so i made this ! it does get very dark so please read the warnings and take care of yourself first and foremost. i am very proud of this, i hope you enjoy 💕
✃ "Because you're... alluring."
✫彡wordcount: 9.3k
♫"Hey, you should leave that young thing alone, ain't no sunshine when she's gone, only darkness everyday." - Flower Face (original by Bill Withers) ♫ Allure Sountrack
(>ᴗ•)♡´・ᴗ・`♡genre: smut, YANDERE, a/b/o au
ಠ_ಠWARNING/content: DEAD DOVE I MURDERED THAT BIH
chapter specific: literally what have i done, not beta read(ironically), criminal MATZ, alpha MATZ/omega reader, forget everything you know about werewolves, so much world building, extremely yandere behavior, talk of attempted child murder, class division of werewolves, panic attacks, vulgar language, mind control, lots of scent stuff, unhealthy relationships, ptsd, flashbacks and nightmares, physical violence, manipulation of others dreams, supporting character death, forced soul bonding, forced marking, reader implied to have mental health issues, murder, gore, violence- all that good stuff. THIS IS NOT A NON CON FIC ALL EVENTUAL SMUT WILL BE CONSENSUAL.
⁂perm taglist: @stvrfir3 @tunaasan @marievllr-abg
⁂fic taglist: @potatomountain @spooo00oky
MATURE UNDER CUT MDNI
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˚➶ 。˚ PART ONE ˚➶ 。˚
You hate weekdays. That much is true for a lot of people. You like to think your reasoning is especially valid.
Every Monday through Friday like clockwork, 6:30AM you walk into the prison. That on its own wasn't so bad. You lived only ten minutes away; the gothic building looked over your village in tandem with the mountains. You could see it when the weather was clear, even from your bedroom on the edge of town. You were no longer afraid of it like when you were a child.
You are, however, afraid of the newest prisoners.
New arrivals didn't usually rock you. This is the only prison in the country fit to hold lycans, after all. They all got transferred here eventually. From beta's who were just stealing to eat, to alphas who used their powers on humans, to those who believed in the old ways and fed on humans.
You had to interact with them all face to face.
You weren't excited for that particular aspect of your job this week.
You made your way through the double doors and greeted the security guard, your friend Hyolyn, as you went through the metal detector. It went off on account of the scent blocker that was embedded in your neck. She chuckled and switched it off so it stopped its incessant beeping.
"Don't laugh at me!" You threw a smile her way as you got your small purse from the plastic bucket she slid towards you. She doesn't bother to check your bag. She knows you well enough to know you wouldn't bring in any "fuck shit", as she would say. "You alpha's don't have to worry about accidentally spewing scent everywhere."
"Thank goodness for that, this place would stink to high heaven." Her unintentional reference to the new arrivals makes the air turn stiff. She could tell you were on edge immediately. "They aren't all that scary," she lays a comforting hand to your shoulder as you fiddle with the long strap on your crossbody bag.
"I heard one of them killed Alpha Greene... you think that's true? That guy was huge, I saw him at The Thing last year, I almost peed myself cause he looked at me-" You stop your own rambling, taking a deep breath and letting it out as a shaking sigh. "I don't want to go in there. Honestly, why can't we install a laundry chute or something, fuck."
"I'll follow you up, I c-"
"No, no, it's visiting day. You need to be down here. You know Chungha? Her daughter is visiting today. Don't want you to miss her." You offer a sad, tight lipped smile, but that doesn't trick her instincts to protect her weaker pack member. She knows you too well to be tricked.
"You just scream and I'll be there. Either of those cocky fucks lift a pinky in your direction and I'll gut them. They don't deserve to see a trial anyway."
A small exhale in the form of a chuckle lightens her protective instincts, she can tell you feel more at ease with her promise to be right there at the slightest hint of trouble.
"See you, Hyolyn."
"Later, babes."
You wave your fingers with a smile as the elevator doors slides shut. As soon as they clunk together, you let it fall and crouch with your head in your hands, taking in deep and slow breaths as you try and force all of the rumors you've heard about the two newest inmates away from your head.
The older alpha of the duo was the first born in this generation. They're always powerful. But he was born to two bloodthirsty rouges. Born in sin and blood lust.
The younger alpha was born just some months after, to an arranged marriage that was purposefully formed to make powerful children. They surely regret that now. Some say the man has the strongest, sharpest claws since the first lycan in Talbot Castle.
When the elevator dings, you're already upright and have that strong facade on that you put on when you're clocked in.
˚➶ 。˚
You start with the familiar. "Hey, Chungha," you tap on the silver bars of her cell, "hand 'em over." She smiles as she stands, stripping the sheets from her cot and holding them through the bars for you. "Thank you," you draw on with a tug on your lips that matches hers.
"Yunnie in town?"
"Mhm," you hum as you fold the blanket before dropping it in the large basket on wheels, "she came over for stew, I made sure to feed her good and well, don't worry."
You know it was probably problematic, but you couldn't help it. Chungha came here three years ago on a charge for battery, and over those three years you became sort of friends with her.
The battered in her case was her grandfather. When her five year old daughter, Jiyun, started to show signs of being an omega- he left her in the snow to wither away. She managed to survive until her mother came home, and said mother was furious.
She was lucky she didn't charged with attempted manslaughter.
"She said she'll be here first thing."
"Thank you," she had a heavy pull on her voice. You don't have the emotional connection to other wolves like an alpha or beta did. But it was clear to anyone she was being sincere. "You're a good woman."
"Don't mention it, Yunnie is good company. Oh," you start to wheel the basket away when you remember something. You reach into the purse that you had set on the handles. "She made this at art class, asked me to give it to you so it didn't have to wait in processing."
It was a small, cruelly made ceramic bowl in the vague shape of a heart. It was clearly made by an eight year old, but made with love.
"I owe you."
"Just keep working on that parol work." You said lightly and blew a kiss as you moved to the next cell.
The rest of your work nearly cleared your mind as you went from cell to cell, floor to floor. Omega's were on the second floor. Beta's on the third. Alphas on the fourth. High security on the fifth.
It's on the fourth level that you begin to feel those nerves that you had just worked away. The scent was becoming stronger. They didn't put them on blockers? Maybe they didn't think it would be worth it. Everyone knew that they were the worst of the worst, they didn't even try to hide it. They would undoubtedly be put to death. Why waste two perfectly good, expensive, blockers?
The basket of used sheets is nearly full, accumulating into a weight that makes you put your back into it as you push it into the elevator.
Your index finger reaches out, and before you can stop yourself you've pressed the button to the fifth floor.
You blank out until the door opens again. Your teeth are eternally grateful for the gum between them so they don't grind themselves into dust. The mint flavor does little to calm your nerves.
The only thing that makes you come back to your own head is Changbin. He's a big, buff beta with a gun full of silver bullets on his work belt. He won't let them hurt you. His smile washes away a lot of the nerves.
But the growl that rumbles against the walls makes them return ten, one hundred, one thousand fold. You don't dare say a word. A deer in headlights until Changbin places his hand on the small of your back. "Go on, don't give them the satisfaction of scaring you. They aren't going nowhere no time soon. Take a look."
He motions you deeper into the hall, florescent lights buzzing above you, matching the jittering feeling in the deepest pit of your stomach. It smells too strong. Too much. You're about to fall to your knees from the weight and you haven't even come face to face with the near feral criminals.
Changbin opens the doors at the end of the hall.
They've definitely gone all out to keep them in place. Two large cages placed next to each other in the middle of the enormous room. Made of pure silver and wrapped in wolfsbane. The unpleasant smell of the plant makes your nose twitch. A ring of blood ash surrounds it. Only omegas can pass through blood ash, and now you start to realize why they sent you.
You want to curse the warden, but the second you open your mouth, a loud cackle sounds out from one of the cages.
Changbin's hand twitches at the gun attached to his side.
"Oh wow," the smaller alpha chuckles, eyes closed, head tilted back, as he sniffs the air. "I didn't expect that." More manic giggles slip past his lips.
You haven't even looked up to see them and you want to cave in on yourself.
"What are you rambling about, huh?" The guard next to you shouts, making you flinch instinctively.
"That sweet... sweet, smell," he moans. You can hear him shuffling. "From a peppy little spit fuck omega."
You gasp abashedly, and now two laughs ring out. You want to wonder how they can smell you. Your insurance provides the best scent blocker in the country. But you're too scared to breathe, let alone think.
"Shut up," Changbin groans, he can feel you tense next to him, "don't piss me off, Kim."
"Awe," a new, rumbling voice makes you cower the second it reaches your ears, "this your mate? Hm, no... you wouldn't bring your mate here. You're not an idiot. Then, say... omega." You don't make a move to look when he addresses you, you stay looking at Changbins grip on his gun, silently.
"Omega, come!" Your feet move for you, and that manic laugh almost makes you wet yourself as you realize that your wolf is making you move toward them without your consent. You stop just outside of the blood ash, where you know you're safe.
"Changb-"
"No. I'm the one you're speaking to."
Changbin seems to be weighing his options, eyeing the men as they eye you.
"Why are you here? You a shrink?"
You shake your head.
"You a lawyer?"
Again.
"She works here, dumbass, look at her scrubs," the younger speaks, and you nod subconsciously, to which he giggles, "what can we do for a pretty little thing like you?"
When you refuse to speak, the guard does it for you. "She's here for your sheets today. Get used to her."
You hated that this was your job, but it was easy and accessible, and available for omegas. Werewolves are clean freaks. Every day you had a different cleaning task, but you didn't complain. Not until right now- you wanted to rip out the throat of whoever's idea it was to not shoot these criminals on sight.
"Ah," he hums, and you can feel his eyes raking your body. You can feel both of their eyes. "Not too bad of a sight to get used to. Huh, Hwa?"
"Mh, that's right... can't wait to get my hands on her."
Your head snaps back to Changbin.
"Awn, she thinks he's gonna help her!" The high pitched giggles bounce around in your head. "Oh, little omega~"
The saccharine coo finally pulls your eyes to the men in the cages.
If you thought you knew what fear was before this moment, you were wrong.
The two strongest criminals in the country, staring you down like a piece of meat. It doesn't matter that they are the ones in cages of silver and wolfsbane. You are the one who feels cornered.
You can immediately feel out their dynamics. The taller one is the older one, quiet and still in his cage as he sits in the center. Shaggy, shining hair framing his face and neck like an elegant piece of lace over a brides face. He has a sleeve of tattoos on one forearm, a thick tattoo on his neck. Eyes glowing a deep, blood red, as he tries to read your entire story with only a look in your direction.
The giggling one is less intimidating, only by a hair. Chemically lightened locks pushed back messily, letting his entrancing features shine in the light from the narrow windows high on the walls. He has tattoos as well, but they seem few and far between. His eyes are human for a moment before they meet yours. Instantaneously, they flick black.
The knot drops from your throat and you let out a small, pathetic, squeak.
Changbin breaks your staring contest with the alpha, shouting orders at them. "Take the sheets off your cot and set them outside of your cage. Do not attempt to touch her, I will shoot you."
Neither criminal makes a move to follow his orders, both simply staring at you.
A low growl is emitted when the older alpha finally snaps up, tearing the sheet off the sorry excuse for a bed in one fell swoop. The younger follows his lead, shoving their sheets through the bars that are wrapped in the poisonous flower.
You look to the guard, and he nods, "go." With his finger twitching at the gun ready to pull it, you jump over the dark red ashes and into the wolves den, snatching the sheets up as quick as possible and dashing away, out the door before they even get a chance to lock in your scent up close.
The giggles follow you all the way to the elevator and ring in your head even as the thick metal thunks shut.
As you take a deep breath, you notice the sheets are gripped to your chest, your claws drawn subconsciously in your panic and ripping them up. "Shit!" You let out a curse and shove them into the bottom of the basket so you don't have to smell it as closely on the long ride to the basement.
˚➶ 。˚
The lingering wafts of your fresh scent are long gone, nothing to distract the alpha's from their caged boredom and bubbling rage over being caught. "I'll have that runts heart in my hands by the end of the month." Hongjoong groaned, to no one in particular- he knew Seonghwa was too deep in thought from their recent revelations. "Fucking back stabbers. They're more pathetic than a bitch in heat trying to get off with a dildo."
The thought hit his mind as soon as the words left his lips.
The thought of you, legs spread with your hand dipped low, trying to satisfy your primal urges and-
"Stop that." Seonghwa growls, kicking the bars of their shared 'wall'.
"Settle down!"
"Oh, like you weren't thinking it!" Hongjoong rolls his eyes, a scowl on his face as he crosses his arms. "Your ruts coming and you don't want your-"
"I said stop," he nearly roars, grabbing Hongjoong's state issued orange top and ripping it with his claws as he pulls him forward.
"I know you want her because I want her too." He whispers, smirking at the telltale signs of desire and bloodlust in his mates eyes. Red swirling around the brown of his human eyes. "Imagine how good she'll smell when we take out that stupid blocker. We'll be drowning in her scent." He moans, grabbing his wrist, "I get the honors, my claws are sharper, anyways," he draws them quickly, digging them into his skin as if to prove a point.
"I can use my teeth, mark h-"
"Oh, will you two stop? Love of God..." The guard in the large room slaps his book down on the rickety table. "What is there possibly for you to be fighting about? You're about to be executed, you know that right? No jury in the world will let you walk, especially the human half."
Their frustrations turn to the man, letting each other go. "Ah, you think so?" The older croons, dragging his index over his bleeding wrist and bringing it to his lips, sucking it clean before he continues. "We won't be around these parts long enough to meet the jury."
"What do you mean by that?"
Hongjoong covers his mouth when a laugh slips past. Seonghwa simply smirks as he sits cross legged, eyes locked with the guard as he licks his wound.
"What do you mean by that?!"
The blonde man breaks out in a fit of laughter. The brunette simply flashes his bloody canines in a twisted smile.
˚➶ 。˚
You spent the whole time doing your daily tasks trying to hype yourself up to go back up to the fifth floor.
You usually went top down, four to one. Nobody has ever been on five before.
You go bottom up today, starting at Chungha with a full basket of freshly washed sheets. She prattles on about her visit with Jiyun, and how she's so thankful for you.
You choose that as your focus point for the rest of the work day, even as you press the button to the fifth floor.
You think back to the first time you spoke to Chungha, she was a crying mess, unable to sense that you were an omega like herself. She cried and cried and cried as you held her hand through the bars of temporary holding. She cried for her daughter, for cursing her with the shame of being the weakest link of any pack. When she looked up and saw your eyes, barely glowing, she cried more.
She apologized profusely, but you reassured her that her words were true, and you hadn't been offended. You told her that, in fact, she was the first to ever share your feelings of what being an omega really meant. It meant loneliness beside anyone but other omegas. Fake relationships born with people who only stuck around because of their primal instincts to either prey on you or protect you. It meant facing the fact that you were outcasts from both of the world's dominant societies. Outcasted from humans for being a werewolf. Outcasted from werewolves for being weak. So weak, in fact, that blood ash didn't even think of you as a wolf.
That night, you drove four hours to the next village over and looked after her daughter until her aunt had room. You remember the first thing the girl said to you. She didn't speak that whole day, surely in shock from the past few days events. But when you tucked her into the motel bed, she spoke as soft as a ghost, "sing me a song?"
You hum it to yourself now, the soft sound reverberating through the metal around you until the door opened.
You wheel the basket with you this time, like it will protect you as you approach the open doors, already feeling the unwavering gaze of the criminals.
"Hey, dolly~" Hongjoong, you had learned when you took a peek into their files, purred your way.
You didn't give him the satisfaction of responding verbally, but he saw the goosebumps on your arm as you reached into the basket, stretching on your tip toes to get the last two sheets.
"You never shut up do you, Kim?" The guard sighed with an exhausted tone, making you smile as you slowly made your way to the ring of red dust.
The throaty rumble from Seonghwa, the older, taller wolf, makes that smile drop to the depths of Hell.
The new guard seems to notice your anxiety, eyeing you up- in a much less predatory manner than the caged men. "Go on, 'mega. I'm watching them."
A bang on the metal bars makes you glue your foot right back where it came from. It's the blonde one, "you shut the fuck up!"
"No, you shut the fuck up! I'm the one with the silver bullets!"
All of the yelling is making you tremble, Hongjoong and the guard going back and forth. "She isn't your omega!"
"She ain't yours!"
Seonghwa watches with a sinister smile as you back away from the ash and the guard, calling to you quietly, "hey."
The soft tone of his voice makes you raise your eyes, but not your head. His eyes don't hold that threatening and dominating red from before. They're a soft brown color that reminds you of a beautiful dark oak in the morning sunshine. "What's your name?"
"(Y/n)..." your tongue moves without your consent, fresh blankets held to your work scrubs.
You desperately want the guard to notice this trance you're in, and grab you out of it. You want to do it yourself, but you can't do anything but admire the beauty of the criminal who has you hypnotized.
"You're a pretty omega, y'know? What color is your wolf?"
"Black..." It's a slur off your lips, barely registering in his sharply tuned ears over the yelling that continues to fill the room.
"Mine too. What's her name? His is Akma."
"Solis."
"Very pretty. Is she fast?"
"Yes."
"Does she want an alpha? A mate?"
"Yes."
The guard finally notices your raised gaze, affixed to the infamous, unlawful, man. He puts his gun back in the holster quickly before gripping your shoulder and forcing you to turn around. "You idiot, didn't anyone ever tell you not to look a first born in the eyes?"
"Sorry. I'm sorry." No one had ever told you that, actually.
Both of the criminals share a smirk as the man from your pack attempts to calm you. It wasn't hard for them to figure out you were an alpha-less village. They could smell every single wolf in five miles, and not a single stench from a wolf even nearly as strong as them.
There was, however, you. A honeyed smell that filled their guts with the primal need to rip out the eyes of anyone who dared look at you.
The guard couldn't be more wrong. You are their omega. You just don't know yet.
"Go and give these fucks their sheets, then get the hell out of here." The man shoved you, making you jump clumsily over the ash so you didn't break the seal.
He yells at them to back up, and they do so without a fight.
You shove them both in at the same time before running back out quickly, grabbing the empty basket and dragging it with you, the sound of the wheels scraping with the force of your panic echoing in the near empty room.
"You guys get off on scaring defenseless girls?" The guard scoffs, not expecting an answer as he drags the chair out of the room and slams the doors behind him.
Seonghwa lets his facade fall the second the door shuts, falling to his knees and grappling at the sheet like he's a starving man with the last piece of food on Earth. Hongjoong watches for a moment in confusion until the scent catches up with his weaker nose. Then he's quickly falling in the same position.
"It worked, the guard was so easy to distract," Hongjoong chuckles, face buried into the sheet that smells vaguely like you from your time spent holding it. "What did you learn?"
"(Y/n), a black wolf named Solis," he pauses, eyes rolled back as he takes a deep breath. They're red when they re-open. "No mate. It's really her."
"You think we should have told her?" Hongjoong inquires, looking through the bars.
He's never seen Seonghwa on his knees for anyone but him or the moon.
"No," he shakes his head, turning to lock eyes with him. "She'll figure it out when I mark her."
"When I mark her."
He rolls his eyes at his defiant nature, knowing full well he won't disobey his orders no matter how badly he wants to do something.
In a dog eat dog world, the strongest was the most powerful. Unlike their human neighbors, werewolves don't decide political or social standing by money or family name. They decide based on who comes out on top in a battle of the body and of the wits.
It had been determined years ago, when they were just young rebellious pups, that Seonghwa was the alpha. A fight in the woods under the moon had set it in stone between the two.
He could have ripped Hongjoongs throat out right then and there, but now, 13 years later in the present; they're bonded for life.
Sometimes he still sees Hongjoong as that 12 year old boy under his teeth, still snapping and growling even as he bled out with tears in his dark eyes, fighting to survive purely out of spite.
"You can mark her first," Seonghwa speaks quickly, turning his back as he puts the sweet smelling sheet on his cot.
He smiles at the man, a quiet thanks spoken through their bonded souls.
˚➶ 。˚
Tuesday, they don't see you until much later in the day, but they bask in the sight of you opening the door with a broom and tray in hand, smiling at Changbin. You'll be here for a while, it's a big room.
"Hey, Binnie," you whisper to the beta, and Seonghwa has to bite his tongue.
Binnie? Ugh.
Hongjoong isn't so polite, "hey, Dolly! We don't get a hello?" You barely peek at him, eyes flicked from him right back to the floor in a millisecond. He knows you noticed his pout when he hears the smallest 'hello' tremble by your lips.
You start in the corner, headphones attached to your walkman with your favorite song on repeat to try and soothe yourself. Bill Withers calming voice blocks out every word of the teasing alphas, but you can still feel them mocking you and picking at you.
You don't dare sweep anywhere near the blood ash on the floor. One less precaution in place was one more thing to worry about.
"Bye, Binnie."
He does growl that time, eyes narrowed on your back until the door shuts.
˚➶ 。˚
Wednesday, you have a frown on your face. "Three days in a row?" The guard Hongjoong got in a yelling match with, Merle, greets you as you come into the cavernous room, "bad schedule huh?"
"No kidding," you sigh, feet slightly hesitant to pass the dust border, "I'm here to fix your shirt. It's state property." You don't look at them, but they know who you're referring to.
They act like they don't, though. Just to hear more of your voice. To make you wriggle under their attention. "Sorry? What do you mean?"
You look and point to Hongjoong, his collar ripped from Seonghwas grasp. "State property."
"Ah, of course." He grins like a jackal, pulling it over his head and sticking his hand out of the bars just in the slightest. "On one condition."
You pout, eyes on the shirt which is just far enough away that you'd have to step closer. And it's the cutest fucking thing they've ever seen.
You look back up at him, silently asking. "Sit and talk with us. The guards here are no fun!" His laugh makes you jump back further, he sounds like a mad pirate.
You look over to Merle, who just shrugs, "just get it over with so these guys will shut up. They're only talkative around you, they need an audience for their antics."
"We won't bite," Seonghwa chuckles with his teeth exposed, making you shiver.
"Fine, give it here." You take a single step forward, palm out infront of the blonde.
When you grab it and go to race away like always, his claws wrapping all the way around your wrist stops you, sharp edges threatening to slice your skin down to the bone. You scream your head off, silenced when Seonghwa coos softly, "sit with us, and talk."
"Let me go..." you plead, eyes frantically flicking to Merle, whose gun is drawn to Hongjoongs head from the border of the ash, waiting for him to take one more wrong move so he can rid the world of one of its greatest criminals.
"Sit, omega." You do so, slowly lowering to the floor with your wrist and life still in Hongjoongs hand. "You have your sewing kit with you, I can hear the buttons hitting the needle. So sit, stay, and talk while you fix it."
Once again, they're the ones caged in. But you're the one who's stuck.
One look to Merle tells you he probably wouldn't help you even if he could get to you. He lowers his gun as your tailbone hits the concrete floor.
Your thin work scrubs do little to fight the cold of the old flooring, one reason of many that you shake as you reach into your purse and get the small tin box.
Hongjoong releases your wrist and sits mirrored to you, hands perched on the bars in the gaps of the purple vine flower wrapped on them. Seonghwa comes to the corner of his side of the split cage and breathes in deeply through his nose, eyes locked in on your every movement. "So you're essentially the errand lady? Maid?"
"Yes..." You murmur under your breath as your fingers work to thread the needle, slowly backing away until you're out of reach, but still stuck in the blood ash with no one to rescue should the men infront of you decide to rip their cages open. You only stop backing away when you hear a warning growl.
You don't care to see which it came from, you just want to do this as quickly as possible and get far, far, away. They could have chose anyone to focus their annoying efforts on. Changbin, Merle, the warden. But no, just your luck.
"You live in the village, right? Were you born here?" Seonghwa continues to do the talking as you carefully fix the shirt.
"Yes. And no."
A small hum from the one in front of you is a sign they want you to continue. "I was born to an overpopulated pack. They kicked me out when I turned eighteen. Our old alpha took me in." The hitch in your voice is a clear sign that it's a sore topic. And Hongjoong continues to poke the wound.
"How did they find you?"
"Woods."
"Woods?"
You can't help the small growl of frustration, lip curling as you look up. "Woods."
The reaction is one you wouldn't have expected from a normal person, but then- they aren't normal.
They laugh, cooing over your gesture of anger. Compared to them, you seem like a teacup puppy. "My, my," the brunette chuckles breathily, "is that Solis coming to play?"
"At least she can," you snap, sent to the back of your own head as your wolf tries to defend you, "she isn't a caged mutt."
Hongjoong breaks out into a manic fit of laughter, while his paramour is the opposite: his eyes flick red before your own, sharp teeth on display in a show of dominance over your smaller ones that are subconsciously bared at him. "Watch it, omega." He spits his words with venom, "I won't be so nice when I get out of here."
You rip the extra thread with your claw, kicking the shirt across the floor so it sits at the bottom bar of Hongjoongs cage. His chest still wracks with laughter, watching as you sit up in a low squat so you're still level with the alpha.
It's clear that you aren't currently you. Your wolf has control of your mouth and body, crouched in a position akin to that of a dog ready to pounce as you hiss your words, "I'm going to laugh in your face as you hang."
"Aw, is that how dear old alpha died?"
"Cut it out!" Merle screams disinterested, eyes glued to his flimsy magazine.
"I heard he got gutted~" Hongjoong giggles, watching the color flicking in your eyes.
"I'll gut you!" Your threat only makes him laugh more.
"(Y/n)!" The voice of Hylyon breaks your wolf away from you immediately, falling to your bottom and crawling to the sound unwittingly. "You fucking idiot, Merle!"
She reaches over the blood ash and pulls you over the ring, letting you collapse into her as she drags you away, still throwing profanities at the incompetent guard. Hongjoong is laughing loudly. Seonghwa yelling at you to come back. The elevator cuts of his roar, the last thing you see through your blurry vision is his fist making a dent in the silver cage.
You fall onto the floor of the metal box. Thoughts flood your head too quickly for you to swim though them, making you drown and try to escape by releasing the pain with tears. You don't even notice when your friend turns her key in the elevator to make it stop in its tracks, you only see her when she sits right infront of you.
"Babes, calm down, I've got you," she reaches out slowly and places a hand on your leg, slowly rubbing her thumb over your knee.
"I can't go back up there... they're too strong, they make me feel like I'm suffocating," you splutter through gasps, "I'm too weak!"
"Hey, hey, you're spiraling!" She opens her arms and pulls you into her, letting you sob into her uniform. "In and out, girl," she holds the back of your neck securely, almost instantaneously making you calm. "I got you... I got you..."
You sit there for a good while, crying into her shoulder as you sort through your wracked brains.
Your alpha was gutted. Right in front of you. Because of you.
Unbeknownst to you, their tuned ears are still listening in, the elevator stuck within their ear shot as you begin mumbling your favorite song to yourself through tears.
˚➶ 。˚
The sound of claws slicing through the skin on your back rings in your ears. Though, you can't feel it. Your eyes are locked in on your own claws, dug into the hardwood floor of your humble home to keep yourself from being dragged.
You've been here a million times before.
Blood pooling off of your body and onto the frigid surface below you. Teeth sharp and bared to the moon though the open window, begging that she might let you survive. Eyes aglow with your instincts as your wolf tries with every fiber of her being to turn, but she knows it's no use.
The distorted voice above you drips with mocking venom, a chuckle as its owner realizes you can't even fight back like other wolves might: by letting your wolf fully transform.
The wind blows through your curtains, washes your body in the artic breeze. The snowflakes on your windowsill are so delicate, all of their features fade into a blurry mush as they make contact. They melt, dripping down your wall.
This time it's different.
You're turned over, gaping wounds slammed into the floor as always, but when you look up to your aggressor it's different.
His eyes aren't the yellow of a rouge, but the red of an alpha. His hair isn't that unruly blonde curl that you pulled at frantically, that you can still feel on your finger tips when your hands are unoccupied. It's long, shining, soft looking dark locks.
You fall through the floor into another time, another place.
Face first into the snow: your hands, shaking with adrenaline, do little to catch you.
You don't remember this.
This isn't right.
This isn't your nightmare.
You find yourself in a clearing in a forrest, the densely packed trees creating a bubble of nature around you. "(Y/n)?"
You whip around, coming face to face with an unfamiliar man. Almost face to face. If he weren't floating a few feet in the air.
His legs are crossed under him, hands facing palms up on his knees.
"Don't worry. You're only dreaming." He speaks calmly as he floats around you in a circle, like a shark examining its potential prey.
You follow him with your feral gaze, that familiar feeling of an adrenaline crash quickly approaching.
You know you're only dreaming. You've had that last dream more times than you can count in the past three years. It always plays the same. But not this time. You're only slightly thankful that you don't have to witness your alphas death again, but the gratefulness is overshadowed by confusion.
"Are you an angel?" You whisper, watching the man's soft and rounded features as he comes to a stop in the air in front of you and gracefully lowers to his feet.
"I can be, if that's what you want me to be. I'm only here to watch your dreams, fight off the nightmares."
"Why?" You feel distant from your body, watching powerlessly as your hand takes his, letting him lead you out of the clearing and into the darkness of the woods.
It disappears around you, warping into a spring day on a familiar path.
"A favor for a friend."
With the snow gone, you're in your spot, your old towel on the dewy grass with a book laid atop of it and the soil beneath your feet as you approach.
"Enjoy."
The hand vanishes from your own, leaving you alone on the side of the path. You look for him. But he's just an eidolon, watching you from the sky where you can't see him.
You warily take a seat and pick up the book.
˚➶ 。˚
They don't see you again through the week. And when the next Monday comes by, their sheets are removed while they're in the showers.
Hongjoong sighs from his place on the floor, for the tenth time in the past half hour.
"Hong-"
"I miss our omega!" He whines, cutting him off.
Seonghwa stands from his cot, slowly lowering to the floor next to their shared bars. He lays flat on his back, mirroring Hongjoong as he tilts his head to look at him. "Soon." Is the only word he utters.
He reaches through the silver bars, ignoring the sting as the fresh wolfsbane brushes his wrist, and takes his hand.
The both of them look up at the ceiling through the bars of their enclosure.
Your scent is long gone from the room, and their noses can barely pick up on it through the rest of the village and prison.
"I want out of here," Hongjoong whispers, so lowly that the guard can't hear him from outside of the door, "when are they coming? Your bond with them is stronger, I can barely feel them..."
"Soon." He repeats, "very soon, Joong."
˚➶ 。˚
Tuesday you manage to talk your coworker into sweeping the top floor, and you rejoice in the freedom of not being under the alpha's gazes. You've worked out a good schedule to completely avoid seeing them, and it's made your job feel like it's back to normal.
You can still smell their power wafting through the AC, but it's bearable. You distract yourself in your free time by making excuses to be on the second floor with Chungha and the other omegas.
Today, that excuse is 'omegas need physical outlets too', and the warden let you bring up buckets and brushes so you could all scrub the base boards.
"Oh, I've got one!" The omega to your left speaks, lifting his brush in the air in a eureka moment, "Texas Chainsaw Massacre or... Halloween?"
Chungha scoffs with a smile as she scrubs away to your right, "are we including sequels? There's like a billion!"
"No, stand alone original," Beomhan goes back to scrubbing as he continues, "both of them are classics but which one is a better classic?"
"Halloween is the classic slasher, Texas Chainsaw is like psychological horror," you chime in as you dip your brush into the bucket, sitting on your calves as you take a breather. "I think it's not fair to compare them... but Texas Chainsaw, definitely."
They laugh along with you, and Chungha shakes her head, "Halloween has more rewatchablity. You don't want to see Sally go through that more than once, but Laurie Strode fights harder and it's more like, yeah I'll watch her kick ass again."
"Cinematography in both is so beaut-"
The lights above you flicker before they shut down completely. People start muttering their concerns, quite a few of them looking your way. "Don't worry!" You hop up and get your keys from your pocket as you make your way to the locked stairwell. "I'll go and see what's going on, keep scrub-"
A loud siren echoes in the brick walls, shocking you all to cover your ears.
Everyone looks to you for answers, and you don't have any as your brain starts throwing theory after theory at you.
"It's okay, go back to your cells! Shut them behind you!"
They listened, however grumpy about it. The cell doors locked automatically when they were closed.
"Hey, what's going on?" Chungha asked over the clanging of the cell doors. The two of you, along with Beomhan, were the only ones left after a moment.
"Go back to your cell, Beomhan, hurry."
"No, what's happening?"
The sirens cut off and leave you in a pregnant pause for a moment as you simply try to calm yourself.
A deafening scream ricochets through the air vent next to you, scaring you into their arms as you all stare at it.
Usually, the air flow covered the echoes throughout the floors. But with no power, you could hear everything- albeit muffled.
Yells and shouts. Gunshots. Growls. Unidentifiable chaos. And above all, your ears tuned in on a rumbling, calm voice through it all.
"Ain't no sunshine when she's gone... It's not warm when she's away..."
Your eyes widen as theres a bang at the stairwell door. "Go, go!" You grab each of their wrists, dragging them into Chungha's cell. You slam it behind you and let down the sheet she has over it, backing away and staring at it as you hear the door hit the wall behind it with the force it's slammed open.
"(Y/n), what the hells happening?!"
You slap your hand over his mouth and bring a finger to your lips. The other omegas on the floor are all making a ruckus, and you can only hope that it will confuse that unfortunately familiar voice so he can't find you.
˚➶ 。˚
The beta in the large room ignores Hongjoong as he continuously asks after 'the pretty omega'.
He just sweeps and sweeps, finally understanding why you hate coming up here. He has his back turned to the cage, and consequently, to the windows.
High on the tall walls, the narrow glass is opened from the outside. Seonghwa smirks, and gestures his head to it. Hongjoongs gaze follows, and he has to slap a hand over his mouth so he doesn't laugh.
A skinny figure is sliding its way in through the window sideways.
He drops to the floor as silent as a mouse, landing on his knees and grinning wildly up at his alphas.
Hongjoong throws his head back in preemptive relief, while Seonghwa is watching with a similarly wide smile as the man walks straight through the blood ash, breaking the circle with the tip of his shoe.
The worker still has his back turned as the lock on Seonghwas cage is picked with a long claw. He doesn't even know what's happening as the next thing he knows, he's thrown across the floor.
Blood ash knocks up around him, coughs wracking his body as he looks up to his assailant.
Park Seonghwa, newly freed from his cage, looks down at the worker with his eyes glowing red.
"Now usually..." He begins, crouching to be face to face with him, "I'd go through this whole place just for the fuck of it and cause some beautiful chaos. But I'm looking for someone."
"(Y/n)?" He stutters out, backing away only to knock into Hongjoongs legs. Stuck between the two criminals, he chooses his own head over yours. "The second floor! Sh-she's on the second floor!"
"Let's go get our omega, Joong."
Nonchalantly, Hongjoong draws his claws and slices the neck of the worker. He hops over the gurgling body and follows his mate with an ecstatic giggle.
He wraps his arm around the skinny man's shoulder, "Wooyoung! Our savior~" He ruffles his hair and laughs as he groans.
"You guys know I've got your back. Seonghwa told me about your new omega, you seem excited," he mimics the alphas smile as the eldest of the trio opens the doors.
The guard on duty, who happens to be Merle, looks back with wide eyes.
"Yes, oh yes!" His eyes roll to the back of his head, touching the stitches you made on his shirt. "Oh, you'll love her, she's a feisty omega just like you."
He makes a run for the fire alarm at the end of the hall, but Seonghwa is faster. The beta is tackled to the floor.
"I'm glad you both will have a buffer, tired of you always at each other's throats during ruts," Wooyoung laughs, looking down at the guard as they pass.
Seonghwa had simply torn out his throat with his bare hand and made his way to the elevator, holding it open with an impatient glare.
The door closes behind them and the only sound is Seonghwa's heavy breathing.
"You're real eager, huh?" The omega breaks the silence, "San should be coming in any second to block the main door. No one will get past him. The rest are in the village, just as we planned."
"Good, she'll need somewhere to rest before we take off....Fucking idiots, thinking they can cage us." He groans, eyes flicking to the number above the doors as it dings.
3? "Fuck."
The door opens and the woman on the other side takes a moment, nearly walking in before she notices the crimson liquid dripping from Segonhwa's hand.
She makes it halfway through the hall before Hongjoong pounces on her, fighting her effortlessly as if she's a rag doll. The guards run to try and save her, but it's too late for the unfortunate woman, and they just signed their own death certificate as well.
Seonghwa and Wooyoung make quick work of them, but their plan is already foiled as the lights flicker to a halt and leave them bathed in dim light of the setting sun in the few windows.
The alphas fall to their knees as their sensitive ears are bombarded with a loud, incessant siren.
"Wooyoung!" Hongjoong screams over it, "go turn that shit off!"
He nods, taking the keys off a mauled guard and dashing to the stair well, leaving it unlocked behind him.
Hongjoong crawls to Seonghwa, collapsing into his chest with his teeth clenched and palms over his ears. His ears were always more sensitive.
His partner places his hands over his, thumb running over his own. He looks down with his eyes glowing red, meeting pure black.
He leans and kisses him deeply, all teeth and bloodlust, trying to merge their souls until the sirens cuts off.
Their foreheads rest together, ignoring the chaos of the beta's around them yelling to be released.
"Are you ready?" Seonghwa whispers, gathering another set of keys from the fallen workers. He throws it to one of the locked in prisoners, a smirk on his face. So much for not creating chaos.
"Let's go," Hongjoong holds the door to the staircase open and lets him go first with a dramatic bow.
It takes one scream to start the havoc. The entire prison is filled with the sickly sweet sounds of caged animals with a taste of freedom. Gunfire and howls bring a smile to Seonghwa's lips as he sings out,
"Ain't no sunshine when she's gone... it's not warm when she's away..."
He hums the song with a wide grin as Hongjoong kicks the door. It takes only one more kick before it slams open and bangs against the cement wall.
The omegas in their cells are all yelling at them, at one another, in general.
Hongjoong kicks one of the many buckets on the floor over and groans, "here I was thinking she'd make it easy. I guess we'll have to go cell to cell!" A small spike of a heartbeat in his ears makes him smirk, following the sound that he memorized the first time he'd heard it.
Seonghwa follows him, immediately zeroing in on the same cell. He comes to stand infront of it, his breath making the blanket behind the bars sway slightly.
You see both pairs of orange slip on shoes and you feel your heart stop in your chest.
You cower further into the corner with Beomhan as Chungha stands in front of you. The sheet is grabbed from the outside and ripped away, making you all shriek.
"Were you playing hide and seek?" Hongjoong giggles, throwing the blanket to the side with his eyes never leaving you, a scowl growing on his features as he notices the way you're curling into another wolf. "You should know better than to hide from your alphas. Come on out."
You shake your head, gaze lowered as you hold onto the back of Chungha's uniform.
"(Y/n)," the saturnine man speaks, "come here."
"No, leave us alone! Leave me alone," your voice cracks despite how strong you want to appear.
"If I have to drag you out of here I will be very angry. Just come on, do us all a solid."
"No-"
"Open the fucking door!"
"No!"
The cells were built to hold lycans, which means lycans shouldn't be able to get in... right?
"Fucking-" Seonghwa hits the bars, leaving a dent and making the three of you jump.
Hongjoong leans on his tiptoes and whispers into his ear, and whatever he says makes his eyes begin glowing a murderous red.
He slowly wraps his clawed fingers around the bars, and the way Hongjoong backs up makes your stomach churn in anxiety of what's about to come.
And it was warranted anxiety.
With a loud growl and a single tug, he rips the silver bars from their cemented place in the wall, causing a large crack to form.
"Holy shit!" Beomhan screams, arms wrapping around you tightly.
Chungha is ripped from the small room and tossed all the way across the room, back colliding with the wall and leaving her unconscious.
You yelp as Beomhan meets a similar fate, torn from your grasp and out into the rec room like he's a mere bag of trash. You see Hongjoong approaching him with his long black claws out and proud, but your vision is blocked by the large alpha infront of you.
Your hips back into Chungha's small desk, and your hands clamber around, landing on something small and solid.
You swing it at his head and he ducks, grabbing your wrist and dragging you out of the small cell. You manage to swing again, making contact with his head. The small ceramic bowl shatters into pieces and leaves him only temporarily stunned, glaring down at you.
"Fucking stop," he growls quietly, shoving you to the floor.
He lets you shuffle away, only because Hongjoong is right behind you.
The blonde chuckles, pulling you back up by your collar and crashing you face first into one of the round steel tables bolted into the floor. "Ow!" You yell out as your head makes contact, fighting against him with all your might, but it's fruitless.
He kicks your feet apart and stands between them, leaning his chest over your back. You can feel his nose against your neck, over the healed skin above your scent blocker. You snap your eyes shut and do the only thing you can thing of.
You can't fight. Begging to these men would be useless. You can't disappear into the floor like you wish you could.
"Please, Selene," you pray to the moon, tears slipping past your shut eyes as you feel the claws of the mad man on your neck.
You cry out as the other worldly sharp nails slice into your neck, slowly and almost surgically. His other hand is cupped on the back of your head, keeping your head pushed into the cold metal. "Shhhh," he gushes above you, "it's okay."
Seonghwa sits at one of the bolted stools and rests his head to mimic yours, cheek on the table. "We'd've been more gentle if you listened, omega."
Between the tips of his claws, Hongjoong holds your small alloy scent blocker. Almost instantaneously, your natural scent floods their senses.
Their deep rumbles of pleasure make you snap your eyes back shut, missing the way Hongjoong stomps on the device.
"Fuck," the wolf behind you curses, body pressed close to yours like he wants to fuse together, he places his hands in yours and tells you, "you might want to squeeze."
"Wh- ah!" Your scream echoes over all of the other chaos as his teeth sink into your left shoulder, and you do just that. Your clawed hands squeeze around his, sharp nails knocking together as you hold on like his hands are the only thing keeping you from slipping to the underworld.
It feels like a million pins and needles washing over you, leaving you paralyzed in place as he purrs into the wound, making your bones vibrate.
A warm, comforting hand on your cheek makes you force your eyes open. Seonghwa smiles sweetly, like he isn't witnessing one of the biggest crimes in the lycan community.
Forcing someone to be your mate for the rest of your mortal lives.
"Breathe, omega," his words make you realize you're holding your breath, and you let it out as a sob. "That's it," he hums, rubbing his hand down your head with all the gentleness he's capable of.
Hongjoong pulls away with a moan, resting his head between your shoulder blades as he catches his breath.
Your wolf is already calling for her mate, howling in the back of your mind as you cry.
"Don't worry, we'll take good care of you." Seonghwas words have little time to register in your adrenaline filled head as he turns your head the other way and climbs up on the table.
It hits you when he moves your ruffled shirt away from your right shoulder. "No! No!" You find yourself with two million pins and needles in your body now, squeezing Hongjoongs hands all over again as Seonghwa sinks his teeth into you at an excruciatingly slow pace.
They're bigger, or maybe they only feel that way because your body is on fire. You sob freely, feet stomping pathetically to cope with the pain.
What little comfort you find in Hongjoong squeezing your hands back is washed away by the simple fact that it's him. That blood from his claws drips onto your skin.
It feels like a century later that the older alpha finally pulls away, a bellow of pleasure as he runs his thumb over the wound: making you jump.
"Your turn, omega."
The weight of their bodies is gone, but you can't bring yourself to move. Out of fear, maybe. Pain, perhaps.
"You know what happens to wolves who don't finish the bond." Hongjoong purrs teasingly, knowing full well that you will have to mark them back least you want to suffer at the hands of the moon herself.
A life with them was better than being turned inside out and left to the elements. Just barely.
You lift yourself on shaking arms and nearly fall as you turn. You would have if not for Hongjoong catching you. He lifts you back to the table much gentler, letting your legs dangle as you sit on the table top.
"Why... why me?"
"... Have you heard of Harry Talbot?"
"Harry Talbots a myth... what's he got to do with your fuck shit?"
"Harry Talbot was the first wolf that could smell his mate. He could tell just by her smell, they were meant to be." Hongjoong slots his way between your legs, smiling down at you with his bloody teeth, "her smell called to him. It wasn't just good. It wasn't a normal scent. It was...alluring."
You were growing dizzy, head spinning.
"Strong alphas can sniff out their true mate. And, baby, we're the strongest that there is."
You have to force yourself to swallow. Have to remember to breathe.
"Why? Because you're... alluring."
That's the last thing you can register before your world turns dark.
˚➶ 。˚ PART ONE END ˚➶ 。˚
#yandere fic#smut fic#ateez fic#yandere ateez#park seonghwa#yandere seonghwa#ateez matz#kim hongjoong#yandere hongjoong#ateez smut#ateez x reader#matz x reader#hongjoong smut#seonghwa smut#yandere ateez x reader#yandere x reader#yandere werewolf
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What's your stance on Ford as a person? Honestly, I believe that for thr majority of canon he is a bad person. But I believe he grew. Still not great though XD
(Love him anyways obvs)
I disagree entirely! I think he's equally as good a person as any of the other main cast.*
*Except Mabel, who, as we all know, is always right about everything.**
(**This is a lighthearted joke. For the love of god, I don't want Mabel discourse in my inbox.)
His biggest sins in the show:
After telling his brother that he was thinking about changing their shared life plans, and then discovering that his brother had gone to the high school that night for no good reason and gone to the science fair for no good reason and messed around near Ford's science project for no good reason and broke it and didn't tell Ford about it... Ford believed Stan did it intentionally and held a grudge for it. You know what, it WOULD be pretty damn hard to believe it was an accident.
Hilariously ill-equipped to cope with Fiddleford's mental health. A guy who responds to "I have anxiety" with "have you tried yoga, it helps me" isn't a bad person, he's clueless. "Character cheerfully enacts a bad idea while a loved one in the background goes NO PLEASE DON'T DO THAT" describes half the episodes of Gravity Falls.
Was successfully manipulated by a professional manipulator into believing his best friend wished him ill. Man, what a terrible person Ford is for being manipulated by a manipulator and saying cruel things to somebody he'd been genuinely convinced was trying to harm him.
??? Didn't say thanks to a guy he was still mad at after the guy fixed a problem he himself had caused. This is a solitary example of stubborn bad etiquette, jesus christ. There's half a dozen different reasons why it makes perfect sense Ford wasn't in the right mindset to feel grateful, this is not something worth indicting his entire character over.
He had high ambitions, which everyone seems to lambast him for, but high ambitions that wouldn't have required doing anybody harm! (Until the professional manipulator started manipulating him into harming the people around him, but we are going to demonstrate some reading comprehension and not blame Ford's underlying morality as a person for things he never would've done if not for Bill's bullying, con artistry, and outright lies.) Like, what is it that he wanted to do with his life? Use his talents to get rich and famous? Shit, that's exactly what Stan wanted to do with his life. It's what Dipper fantasizes about doing with his life. Even Mabel, who thinks about her long-term future the least, dreams big with her art & performances and is already making big money off cheap-ass commissions. What terrible people they all are, for���let me check my notes here—uhhh... unrealistically fantasizing about achieving success in life by doing the things they're good at.
When their dad accuses Stan of lying as a child, Ford puts his entire summer on the line to defend Stan even though he knows Stan is a habitual liar and has no reason to believe Stan is telling the truth this time.
When his new college roommate he barely even knows gets laughed at for proposing an outlandish scientific theory, his first emotion is outrage at this injustice and he drops everything to convince his already-despondent roommate that he was right and help him prove it beyond a shadow of a doubt.
When he moves to a new town, he tries again and again to befriend his new neighbors, and fails not because he's rude or a jerk, but because he's awkward as hell, tells terrible jokes, and sucks at identifying phoenixes.
When Fiddleford gets hurt around him, he cares about it, feels guilty about putting him in that position, doesn't want it to happen again, and tries his best to help even though he's bad at helping.
When he gets kidnapped by a weird holiday folklore creature, he concludes without even thinking about it that he's now in charge of protecting and rescuing the kidnapped kids. Yeah, then he immediately starts hollering at the folklore creature for trying to impose his religious beliefs on Ford and the kids—but like, Ford was right tho, he just had bad timing.
When he discovers that the Northwest family committed atrocities against their poorer neighbors a century ago, his first instinct is to march up to their house, find the first Northwest he can locate, and give them a piece of his mind for it. Like, this won't even FIX anything. He's just THAT OUTRAGED over the injustice.
When he sees what he thinks is a fortune telling fraud conning the people, he attempts to debunk her because he's mad to see someone cheating other people with lies—and when he can't debunk her, he just leaves her alone rather than harass her about it. Typically, if assholes think somebody's doing something wrong but don't have any proof of it and fail to get proof when they look, they decide they're right anyway and keep giving that person shit. Ford doesn't give her shit. That's the opposite of an asshole move.
When he discovers his Portal To Knowledge (And Fame & Fortune) is actually a Portal To Doom (But Still Possibly Fame & Fortune, Maybe Even Godly Power), he isn't tempted for a second to keep working on it anyway. There is no moment where Bill manages to tempt him. No matter what Bill offers, no matter how long Bill offers, never, at ANY point, does Ford have a SECOND of "but what if I did make a deal with the devil?" the way so many heroes in similar situations often do.
You ever notice that? So often moral moments in the show are presented as choices the characters make. Will or won't Dipper give Bill a "puppet" in exchange for knowledge. Will or won't Stan fight a pterodactyl to protect Mabel's pig. Will or won't Mabel hand Bipper the journal. Ford is never given a "will or won't he" moment over Bill's threats, offers of friendship, or offers of infinite power—he steamrolls straight past them without a second of consideration—because, to him, the selfish, cowardly, easy choice ISN'T EVEN AN OPTION. He doesn't even SEE it as making a choice because the possibility of doing the wrong thing is invisible. A character who wavers first before turning Bill down would look more noble for "overcoming" temptation—it's harder to notice just how much stronger Ford's moral compass must be to not even feel temptation in the first place.
Greed and pride never tempt him to join Bill's side. Exhaustion, despair, and fear never tempt him to give up. He bears up under weeks, possibly months of extreme sleep deprivation, physical torture, psychological torture, emotional torture, threats of death, threats of brainwashing, threats to his family. He doesn't hold up so that he can pat himself on the back for being a hero—if that was all it was he would've gone "screw it, this isn't worth it and nobody would know I'm the one who gave up" a week in—he does it because he simply knows it must be done and because he's so isolated (half because of Bill's influence!) that he believes he's the one who must do it, all alone.
Thinking he has to do it by himself isn't egotism or pride; it's helplessness. He thinks no one else stands a chance. He thinks he's alone.
And, when he discovers his Portal To Knowledge is a Portal To Doom, he immediately feels guilty. No trying to deny the situation to protect his ego. No shuffling the blame off to someone else. No "maybe the apocalypse could have a silver lining!" No locking the door and trying to ignore the problem. He blames himself for being fooled—he IMMEDIATELY takes full responsibility for his actions—and he CONTINUES to take responsibility FOR THE NEXT THIRTY YEARS.
He takes more responsibility than is even warranted—he treats himself like he's an idiot for believing in an APPARENT GOD who's been practicing manipulating humans for thousands of years and who had never given Ford reason to believe the portal was anything but what Bill said it was. He beats himself up to no end every single time his past with Bill comes up. He even keeps beating himself up thirty years later when he's shoving warning notes to future readers in Bill's evil unkillable book!
When he falls into the multiverse, he dedicates his entire life NOT to finding a way to rescue himself, but to finding a way to permanently stop the CHAOS GOD who's still at the threshold of destroying Ford's world and countless others. He makes himself a hated criminal in the process, just to stop Bill. He's ready to spend the rest of his life trying to protect a world he doesn't think he'll ever see again. He does it because, as he sees it, somebody has to stand in between the children and the obnoxious folklore cryptid menacing them, and he's the only adult in this damn cave with the skills and knowledge for the job.
When he gets home, he doesn't tell his family about Bill and his quest because he's afraid that doing so will get them involved and endanger them too—and because he's too deeply ashamed of himself and his mistakes to stand the thought of his family knowing about the horrible things he's done (AGAIN, WHILE BEING MANIPULATED BY THE GOD OF MANIPULATION).
He loves his great-niece and great-nephew the second he lays eyes on them; he nevertheless tries to steer away from them to keep them safe from Bill; and yet he caves to the very first temptation to emotionally bond with his great-nephew he gets, because in spite of his noble "keep them safe" intentions, he wants so so badly to be close to his family.
As pissed as he still is at Stan and even though neither of them can look at each other without hissing like cats, he still makes an attempt to start bridging their divide by inviting him to play DD&MD.
When the apocalypse happens, he immediately puts his life on the line to try to kill Bill.
And when he's captured, isn't fazed for a second by Bill's offers or threats... until his family is threatened. The exact thing he'd been trying to avoid & prevent from the very start.
And when he's reunited with Fiddleford, his immediate reaction is to point out that Fiddleford's well within his rights to hate him—which isn't a new revelation, it's not like Ford had to do any soul-searching to reach this conclusion, he'd concluded that 30 years ago the instant he realized Bill had played him and that he'd been lied to about Fiddleford.
And then he tries to kill Bill again.
And then he's ready to sacrifice his own life to kill Bill—and the only reason he doesn't is because he has a metal plate preventing him from making the sacrifice... but, Stan doesn't have a plate. If Ford hadn't had the metal plate, he would have gladly done the exact same thing Stan did—and he would have thought it was right for him and only him to make that sacrifice, because it's VERY clear he feels (and has felt from the start) that this is all his fault and he's obligated to fix it.
Over and over and over, these are Ford's two defining character traits: getting so pissed off at injustice that his common sense shuts off and he goes into terminator mode until he's righted this wrong as best he can, even when he can't actually do anything about it; and feeling like he's Atlas, weighed down with the full responsibility of fixing everything he's done wrong and made to believe that, for everyone else's sake, he has to do it all alone. Even when doing so puts himself in harm's way, even when he has to put his entire life on hold for it, even if it might cost him his life. Scrape off his awkward social skills, his loneliness, his nerdiness, his endless curiosity, his zealous love of the strange, his starry ambitions, his yearning for recognition and success—scrape his personality down to the bone and that's what you're left with. A man who believes in defending the exploited so strongly that it makes him a little stupid.
I'm gonna go out on a limb and assume that you probably don't think Stan's fundamentally a bad person, and that you probably think that isn't even worth questioning. Stan's made a whole career out of swindling people, conning them out of as much money as he possibly can, stealing, lying, committing a long list of goofily-named crimes, and attempting douchy pick-up artistry on women; and to cap it all off, he held the safety of the entire universe hostage to demand a goddamn "thank you." Don't send me any "But he had reasons—" "But it was only to—" I don't need it, I don't want the essay, I'm not arguing that Stan's a bad guy, it's fine.
But. You can look at Stan's moments of cruelty and unkindness, his uncharitable thoughts, his character flaws, and think, "that doesn't define him. He's more than his cruelest moments and worst mistakes. He's imperfect, but he cares so much and his heart's in the right place, and beneath all the flaws his core is good."
And if you can't do the same for Ford, it's not because he's a worse person. It's because we got two seasons with Stan and five and a half episodes with Ford—and while we saw Stan yearning to fish with the kids or encouraging Mabel to whoop Pacifica's butt at minigolf or crying over a black and white period drama or punching zombies to save his family, we only saw Ford at the worst moments in his life and under the stress of a prolonged apocalyptic crisis—and, it so happens, all the moments he was pissed at the guy we spent two seasons learning to love.
Ford's got moments of cruelty and unkindness, uncharitable thoughts, and character flaws. But, at his core, he's a good person, and he always has been, and he still is.
#anonymous#ask#gravity falls#grunkle ford#ford pines#(note to self: when you see an ask that makes you go 'god i don't wanna get into this; i'll type something quick & punchy and move on'—)#(—do NOT start typing something 'quick & punchy' when your adhd meds are wearing off.)#(they WILL last just long enough for you to snap into a hyperfocus but not long enough for you to have the power to stop typing.)#(i'm thirsty.)#meta
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>1000 words, detailed descriptions of violence and a (sort of?) mention of s/a (⚠️use of the r word ⚠️), reader is gn! and up to interpretation throughout other than being considerably smaller than thomas and one mention of possibly bearing children. open-ended, so if you prefer angst endings for reader or stockholm, you can choose, it's texas chainsaw massacre, anything that's in either movie is part of the warnings just to be safe. dead dove do not ear, read at your own risk. also this is not proofread in any way, I literally wrote this straight shot right before bed listening to dove (doll ver) on loop and hit post.
READ THE WARNINGS BEFORE CONTINUING
imagine tommy keeping you, not to rape and defile like his uncle assumed, nor for you to bare children like his mama had hoped—but because you're just so nice to look at.
In the first film, tommy can be seen wearing rings, jewelry he's collected from past victims. also with the whole wearing people's faces to mask his own, he obviously has an eye for pretty things. and you're one of them.
It isn't just that of course, plenty of pretty people had come onto the farm, all meeting the same fate. he hadn't spared a dozen or so others, so why would he spare you?
you hadn't flinched at the sight of him, you hadn't run away crying like a child at their first horror maze, you simply smiled at him with those sparkling eyes, an elegant hand giving him a friendly, unbiased wave. you looked at him without prejudice, or preconceived assumptions about his character.
your friends hadn't given him the same courtesy. which is why you were here, chained to the workbench near the chopping block. the block he was using to dismember your traveling companions. a few of them hung from meat hooks, catatonic, their minds were weak and feeble, they broke at the sights in front of them, and despite the agonizing pain of lost limbs and shredded muscle, they were silent and still, waiting for their turn.
death was their only escape, they needed only to wait for it. you could see it in their eyes, each time he'd finish one off and turn to grab the next off a hook, they'd all follow him with pleading eyes. not for mercy, they were far beyond the point of return—but to be next.
your entire body was shaking like a kicked chihuahua. your muscles were all tense, adrenaline begged you to run, flee, to escape death. your silly primal instinct hadn't caught up with your concious. It was an odd feeling, having every possible part of your body screaming at you to run, and choosing to stay still, to betray your instinct with your intelligence. you knew you wouldn't get far.
despite the horrid conditions in the basement, a place where your senses should be overloaded; your ears with the echoes of their screams and the engine of the saw, your eyes with the gory mess, your nose with the pungent smell of iron and rotting flesh, your tongue with the dryness of your mouth from panting, and your body's fatigue from running around for hours—there was nothing but the racing of your heartbeat.
It was all you could hear or feel, and in your mind you could taste and see it as well, you felt the pulse rise all the way into your skull and down to your toes. you felt every rush of blood heat your skin like a furnace, moving past your veins and tissue.
your eyes aimlessly followed his body, unblinking and dry. he was deeply focused on his ‘work’, but he would still glance at you every now and again. you were just so pretty, a decoration in his safe haven, like a deer mounted above the fireplace.
hours had passed in what felt like seconds before he was finished. you hadn't moved.
he nonchalantly came up to you, his much larger hand going to cup your face before he froze. he withdrew his hands, wiping the bloody mess on his apron and washing his hands before he continued his previous action.
you didn't dare move, not even to flinch, as his held your head in your hands.
his thumbs caressed the flesh just under your eyes, rubbing around and about, seemingly fascinated by the way your skin folded and stretched at his will. he made a gesture with his hands, swiping a palm in front of your eyes, an attempt at communicating. when you didn't respond, he huffed frustratedly before letting his thumbs touch your eyelids, forcing them down to close your eyes.
he took your chin in-between two fingers, maneuvering your head in every direction, studying every feature. his thumb pulled your lips apart, showing him your teeth, clenched so hard they might be pushed back underneath your eye sockets.
after a he took some time to study you, you felt his thumbs come back to rest on your eyelids, pulling them open again. this time he studied your iris. he was clearly upset at the lack of light that prevented him from seeing the color clearly, but he looked closely nonetheless.
the sensation of breath enveloping your face, forcing you to breathe in the air he had just released, was one you could not describe.
his hands fell to your shoulders and moved downward till he got to your forearms, where he would trace the veins in your arms. when his hand met your wrist, he applied gentle pressure to it, his breath hitching as he felt your blood pulsate. he moved onto your hands now.
his were easily twice the size of yours, if not more. his nails were dull and blunt, the skin much rougher against yours. dried blood cracked underneath his nails and stained his skin a pinkish tone despite his tan. he traced the lines of your palm the same way a palm reader would, take away the tales of life lines and replace them with pure admiration.
he unexpectedly leaned in closer to you, his face now inches, if that, from your own. you kept your gaze ahead as he stared you down.
he brought his masked nose up to the top of your head and sniffed you like a dog, leaning down to your neck to see what else he could smell on you besides your faded fragrance and sweat.
It was only after this action of his that your body responded in any way in nearly 12 hours.
#thomas hewitt x y/n#thomas hewitt x you#thomas hewitt tcm#thomas hewitt#thomas hewitt x reader#tommy hewitt#tcm 2006#tcm the beginning#tcm#tcm 2003#tcm fanfic#the texas chainsaw massacre#texas chainsaw massacre x reader#texas chainsaw massacre the beginning#texas chainsaw massacre#texas chainsaw massacre fanfic#slashers x reader#slasher x reader#slasher fanfiction#slashers#slasher imagine
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Ok, I just read your sweet yandere post and would like to add something.
I love the idea of like a mafia boss yandere or someone who is usually cruel (like maybe a Hades sort of character) but is an absolute sweet heart to their darling. One of my fave tropes
OOOOOOH I LOVE THIS TROPE! I have a character who's just like this actually, a total sweetheart to whoever he's with but has a very low tolerance for most other people.
Sorry, this is a long one lol
I'm gonna make headcanons now because you've inspired me lol.
(Banner/divider credit goes to @cafekitsune)!
Tw: Kidnapping, mentions of violence
Mafia boss! Charlie who is no stranger to violence. He's lived his entire life surrounded by it, in fact. Having a mafia boss for a father will do that to you, he guesses.
Mafia boss! Charlie who's spent his whole life working for the mafia, being trained to kill, smuggle, and deal ever since he was a child. He grew up living a life of crime, rising up the ranks (thanks to his father), before taking over as the boss when his father was killed by an unruly client.
Mafia boss! Charlie who's a cruel, ruthless man. He's killed dozens of people, injured many more, and runs his organization with an iron fist. He may be young, but he's learned enough to know that any show of trust, any display of kindness is a show of weakness, a show of vulnerability. He can't afford that, not when he's the head of the mafia, so he makes sure to make it so that no one will question or challenge his authority by any means necessary.
Mafia boss! Charlie who has very few real friends, keeping those he does have at an arm's length. He'd rather die than admit that he craves real relationships, that he desires to make genuine, true connections with others. But he can't, so he pushes his wants to the side, reminding himself that his only purpose is to keep his business running smoothly, nothing more.
Until he sees you, that is.
Mafia boss! Charlie who meets you out on a grocery run one day. Your interaction is nothing special, at least to you, but Charlie can't help but marvel at how easily you make conversation with him while ringing up his items, how seemingly unfazed you are by his snappy attitude and unapproachable appearance. It's been a long, long time since he's met anyone unafraid of him, and those people are usually rivals who are too cocky for their own good. So this, this is new. He knows it's stupid, he knows that your tiny interaction shouldn't have mattered much to someone like him, but he can't help but feel giddy about the connection he's sure he felt.
Mafia boss! Charlie who, against his better judgment, wastes no time in trying to find out who you are. It's not hard, he has an entire organization full of trained trackers, stalkers, and informants at his disposal, and by the end of the day, he has your full name, address, social media accounts, family tree, medical records, and much more safely in his welcoming hands. He knows this is a bit overkill considering he only met you today and your interaction lasted five minutes at most, but now that he has a taste of real human interaction, he's addicted. He needs more.
Mafia boss! Charlie who quickly becomes awestruck and obsessed with you. His whole life, he's been surrounded by the craftiest, cruelest, most violent people imaginable, so to see someone, especially someone as precious as you, live a completely normal life, naive to the dangers he faces everyday? It's captivating! Of course, he can't follow you all day, he is a mafia boss after all, but he has enough people following you around and recording your every move that he doesn't need to! He's never been happier to be who his is than now.
Mafia boss! Charlie who thinks you're the most beautiful person in the world. You're a sweet little thing, too gentle and too unaware of the dangers around you for your own good. He loves everything about you, no matter how weird or embarrassing. He's content to watch you carefully for a couple months, but as time goes on, his need to feel our touch, to talk to you, to see you face to face is too much. He needs you. He needs you NOW. It doesn't help that you're so vulnerable and weak compared to him, with no knowledge of weaponry or stealth to keep you safe. What if someone were to try and hurt you? Of course, his goons wouldn't let that happen, not if they wanted to keep their organs, but he would feel so much better if he could keep an eye on you personally. Not to mention, every mafia boss needs a spouse, and some of his higher ranking associates have been hinting that it's about time he found someone...
Mafia boss! Charlie who immediately starts planning your "transfer" to his house, meticulously drafting out every last detail to secure your safety. He chooses his best, most skilled employees to carry out his plan, only the best for his darling, and sends them out to bring you "home". That day you come home from work, completely unaware of the people in your apartment, completely unaware of the sleeping pills dumped into your water while you weren't looking.
Mafia boss! Charlie who's ecstatic to finally have you with him, to finally have someone to hold, to talk to, to love. He brings your unconscious body to your new room, laying you softly on the bed while instructing his employees to pack up all your belongings and bring them to him. He doesn't tie you down or chain you up, he has enough security measures in place to make sure you won't be able to escape. You won't even be able to leave your room without him being notified.
Mafia boss! Charlie who watches the camera in your room as you wake up for the first time in your new home, confused and disoriented. All of your stuff is here, but this is NOT your apartment. Where are you? He watches as you start to freak out, guilt flashing through him for the first time in his life. He doesn't want you to be scared, he just wants to keep you safe!
Mafia boss! Charlie who sends one of his gentler employees into your room to explain everything, too afraid of scaring you even further by showing up himself. He waits a few days before revealing himself to you, when your terror has calmed down and you've become more familiar with your surroundings. He kind of just stands there, unable to formulate a sentence, which is extremely unnerving to you. You've been told you're to be married to a highly respected and violent mafia boss, and here he is, just...staring. When he opens his mouth to speak, your surprised at how soft his voice is, calmly explaining to you that you're safe, you won't be hurt. He reaches out his hand to touch you, but recoils when you flinch, not wanting to push you.
Mafia boss! Charlie who does everything he can to make you more comfortable and less afraid of him, getting you anything and everything you've ever shown interest in, giving you as much space as you need, and letting you roam the rather large house freely. All you can't do is leave. He doesn't understand why you're still so scared, sure he's a criminal, but he promised he would never hurt you!
Mafia boss! Charlie who gets more desperate for your love as time goes on. He starts appearing in whatever room your in, softly talking to you about his day or about whatever you're doing, trying to get you to be more comfortable with him. Once you've gotten used to that, he starting slowly initiating physical contact, holding you in his arms like he's never going to let you go (because he won't). He tried his hardest not to push your boundaries, but eventually his need to be near you becomes too great. Rest assured though, he would never, ever dream of hurting you or purposely scaring you.
Mafia boss! Charlie who can't get enough of the feeling of your skin on his. He starts hugging/cuddling you whenever he can, holding you like you'll break if he presses too hard. He's always near you, cuddling up to you while telling you about how much he loves you, adoration shining in his eyes. He's the clingiest at night though, whispering sweet nothings into your ear as you fall asleep, him watching over you until he succumbs to his own tiredness. And his kisses? They are the softest, fluffiest thing you've ever felt. He cannot get enough of your lips, and he always kisses you passionately, like you'll disappear once he separates from you. With how loving and gentle he is, it doesn't take long for you to start loving him back.
Mafia boss! Charlie who starts giving you more privileges the farther you fall into stockholm. He'll even start taking you out in public on dates once he thinks there's no chance of you trying to escape him. He'd be able to find you if you did, he has many, many connections, but he trusts you won't. He loves going out with you and doing normal, coupley things with you, it's a nice break from his usual, violent life.
Mafia boss! Charlie who is insanely protective of you, never leaving you alone in a room with anyone except for himself. He knows how dangerous it is to be associated with him and now that he has you, he refuses to let anything happen to you. Any rival who attempts to hurt, kill, or kidnap you is met with Charlie himself, who enacts the most brutal, torturous death he can possibly think of on them. Nobody will come close to hurting you, he'll make sure of it. But no matter what happens, he'll always make sure you're far, far away from the violence. He never wants to subject you to the horrors he's seen (and done).
Mafia boss! Charlie who feels awful the first time you hear him raise his voice. It wasn't at you of course, he would never, ever think of yelling at his darling, you just happened to be in the room when he was meeting with one of his associates. It's scary seeing him yell, threatening brutal acts of violence on his own employee, and for the first time you realize how different he is with others than he is with you. He's quick to shut the meeting down once he realizes you're there, spending the rest of the night apologizing to you and assuring you he would never speak to you like that. This'll be the first time he truly opens up about what his job is like and why he has to be as cruel as he is, trying to help you understand why he behaved the way he did. It's difficult for him to make himself vulnerable, but he'd gladly to it if it meant easing your mind. From then on, he makes absolute sure you aren't around whenever he has to take care of business. He refuses to let you see him like that ever again.
Mafia boss! Charlie who never lets you forget how much he needs you in his life. You're the only thing keeping him from devolving into insanity, he wouldn't know how to handle himself if you were gone. He'll give you everything and anything if you listen to him and stay by his side, so please... please don't try to leave him.
Not that you would be able to, anyway.
#x reader#yandere male#male yandere#yandere#yandere thoughts#request#gentle yandere#sweet yandere#obssesive#obsessive love#obsessive yandere#oc x reader#yandere x reader#mafia boss#mafia boss x reader#yandere mafia#yandere mafia boss#soft yandere#tw yandere#yandere boyfriend#ocs#my ocs#charlie x reader#charlie craven x reader
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Waiting for Superman
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~600
Warnings: fluff
Summary: For decades, you���ve been coasting through life thinking you’ll never find “the one” until you take Spencer to a bookstore, and he manages to find something to pass the time.
Square Filled: waiting for superman by daughtry for @spencerreidbingo
Author’s Note: any and all comments are greatly appreciated <3
x
Spencer loves books. He reads nearly twenty of them in a week. However, he is a fan of nonfiction, not fiction like you love. The new bookstore that just opened near your house only had fiction books stocked, nothing that would ever catch Spencer’s eyes. Still, he goes because it’s what you love.
Most people who know Spencer know that he is patient, calculating, thoughtful, and very friendly. That all gets thrown out the window when he comes to the bookstore with you. He’s like an impatient child who only comes along because he has to. He gets bored very easily since his big brain is always running away from him, so it takes a lot to keep him engaged. It’s why he’s so good at his job. His mind is constantly engaged by whatever unsub has made it to the briefing room.
Spencer huffs as he follows you around the bookstore, and you pick a romance book off the shelf.
“You know you didn't have to come with me.”
“I want to hang out with you, even if it means being in here.”
“How romantic,” you roll your eyes playfully.
“Are you almost done? I know of another bookstore that has books we’d both like.”
“Spencer, this one is closer, and we have to meet my parents for lunch. If we went to the other one, we wouldn’t get back until late.” Spencer leans against the bookshelf and is quiet for maybe five seconds. “Okay, how about you go to the cafe and get something to drink, yeah?”
Spencer grumbles but doesn’t answer you. You go back to reading the backs of books, pushing Spencer aside in your mind. He leaves your side to go find something else to do. If this is Spencer’s only flaw, then you consider yourself pretty lucky. You were at the point in your life where you thought you’d be alone forever.
Every date you went on, you weren't connecting to anyone. Either they were too boring, too stinky, too full of themselves, or they had their eyes on other girls. None of them were ever right until you met Spencer. He kept his attention on you every time you two were together, always put your first, and made sure to remember every detail you’d tell him about yourself.
Okay, that last one is his natural ability to remember everything, but he made a conscious decision to do it.
You spent what felt like a lifetime for someone like Spencer, so you’re not going to let him go that easily.
Over the next hour, you read and grab books that are interesting to you until you have a pile in your hands. You had just gotten paid and felt like spending a chunk of your paycheck on books. Knowing there is nothing for Spencer in here, you search for him in the small bookstore. He’s upstairs sitting in a book nook with half a dozen kids sitting around him. Their parents are near just watching Spencer read a book to them.
His eyes are wide, he does funny voices for the characters, and he engages each of the kids in the story he’s reading. You set your books down on a table and lean against it, content with watching him. Each kid is mesmerized and hooked to every word he’s saying, and the parents don’t mind the nice break from their children.
“What about the dragon? Who is going to slay it?” a child asks.
“Princess Annabelle is.” All the children gasp. “I know. Usually, the prince does but I think Princess Annabelle is tired of waiting for someone to do it for her. Let’s see how she does it.”
Spencer flips to the next page and continues to the story. He looks up and locks eyes with you, and you give him a slow-growing smile.
It’s right here and now that you’ve decided this is the man you’re going to marry. You’ve been waiting decades for your Superman to show up, and it’s been in front of your face the whole time.
x
Want to be tagged? Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid angst#criminal minds#criminal minds fic#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds fluff#criminal minds angst
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These Things Take Time (Yandere! Supernatural! Taehyung x Reader)
Synopsis: There's something wrong with your boyfriend Taehyung. At least, you think it's him.
16.5k
Trigger warnings: yandere behavior, psychological gaslighting, violence, gore, some heavy making out, strong language, AFAB reader (she/her) I'm sure I'm missing some but you know me and what I write lol
Authors note: just a real quick thank you to @bigbuffjoonie and @mustardpop for having beta read and brainstormed with me literally a year ago about this fic that I never published until now.
-----
He passionately thrusted her against the wall, mouthing at her neck while muttering disgusting things that he was going to do to her.
It was foul…
It was taboo…
It was…..
Your fingers paused and hovered over the keyboard, the constant clicking of your writing coming to a sudden halt.
Your eyes scanned the last few lines, lips instinctively mouthing the words and checking the overall flow of the plot.
Your two main characters were about to fuck each other’s brains out after a long ‘will they or won’t they’ that spanned well over a dozen chapters.
There should be a feeling of torture, a feeling of relief, a feeling of frenzied lust that just couldn’t contain itself anymore and combusted within the contents of these pages.
That is what you desperately wanted your loyal readers to experience when they get to this scene.
Yet when reading the long-awaited buildup, you felt nothing.
You cared for every character you created like a mother does their child, them getting their happy endings was just as important to you as it was to them. So why did you feel so numb and dissociated from everything you’ve been typing the past hour?
You released a disillusioned sigh and leaned back into your chair. Your eyes stung from staring at a screen for so long and your limbs ached to be stretched with hours of immobility.
Writer’s block was a bitch.
Unlike other skills, writing was one of the few expertise that working harder at it won’t guarantee a better outcome. You could type away until your fingers were bruised and bloody, but it doesn’t mean anything you wrote would be worth shit. Writing was a talent and it came and went as it pleased. And right now it was gone.
Which left you very depressed and your editor very pissed.
You gave up the fight and reluctantly closed your laptop. Then stood to your full height, to give your back a much-needed stretch.
‘I tried today. And that’s okay. I’ll try again tomorrow.’ You thought to yourself, half heartedly taking your therapist’s advice to acknowledge your efforts and not just the outcomes.
When in a creative slump, it has been said that reading other works can be a source of inspiration. Can’t be a good writer yourself, then go out and read a good writer. With this thought in mind, you slowly exited your office and descended down the stairs.
Last week your mom sent you a book she recommended, and you’ve been so busy trying to finish your own novel that you just tossed it somewhere and haven’t touched or looked for it since. Though, you were almost certain you caught sight of it on the coffee table yesterday.
When you stepped into the living room, you spotted a familiar figure standing by the large bay window.
The sight tugged a small fond smile onto your face.
Taehyung was your boyfriend of six months.
He was strikingly attractive, tall, kind and clearly didn’t know his own worth because not only was he dating you, but he also agreed to move into this secluded farmhouse while you tried to finish your book. He assured that he could use this time and space to focus on his paintings as well, but you knew deep down he just didn’t want to leave you alone out in the middle of nowhere.
Right now only his profile was facing you, his alluring feline eyes staring at the raining scene outside, dark brows furrowed in heavy thought. He looked to be biting on his lower lip, a habit you’ve never seen before, but you supposed you two have only been dating for a few months so there was probably a whole world of little quirks you didn’t know of yet.
The scene was a bit intense, as you weren’t used to your usually cheerful boyfriend looking so ponderous. Yet you shrugged it off and just assumed he was most likely brainstorming his next painting. Taehyung was your first artist boyfriend and your friends did warn you that they could be a bit dramatic.
You quickly surveyed the room and indeed located the book on the coffee table. While reaching for it you called out, “Hey love?”
Taehyung snapped his neck at a speed too fast for your liking, instantly facing you with eyes wide and blown out in what you could only assume was shock.
You giggled, thinking he was too absorbed in his own world that he probably just now noticed your presence.
“I know I said I wanted pasta for dinner but how about we order some chinese instead?” You asked. Taehyung didn’t say anything, eyes still wide in unknown revelation, entirely unmoving. You continued, “This weather makes me not want to do anything, and I know you complain about the delivery time but we could just reheat the food if it gets here cold.”
It seemed like forever but Taehyung eventually nodded.
He then turned to face the window again.
You inwardly sighed and guessed he wasn’t thrilled with the idea of chinese. He always complained that you didn’t take care of yourself and how you needed home cooked meals rather than greasy takeout. But when creatively burnt out like this, you tended to just reach for the doordash because the act of cooking seemed entirely too much for you.
Hoping to butter him up, you tipped toed from behind and wrapped your arms around him. You nuzzled your face into his back and took a deep breath, enjoying the familiar scent of his outrageously expensive cologne. His body seemed to melt into your hold, tense posture suddenly limp and calm.
You reached up and pecked his cheek, grinning when you caught sight of his lips twitching upwards. Harmless manipulation complete, you trudged out the room with a lukewarm “Thanks honey!”
You skipped up the stairs and made a left into a hallway, quickly getting into the bedroom and preparing to plop into the heavenly crumpled mess of sheets and blankets, when an unexpected sound caused you to still.
The front door was opening.
Afraid of a possible home invasion, you rushed out to see what was happening.
The door was wide open and emerging into the home…was Taehyung.
His hair and jacket was drenched from the rain, four or so heaping grocery bags in his hold as he looked up the stairs at you with a tired smile.
“Hey baby, can you give me a hand with some of this? I got some sauce for the pasta and picked up some other stuff we were running low on.”
Time stood still.
Your jaw dropped in bewilderment.
Your mind struggling to process this odd collapse of reality.
The nearest grocery store was, at its quickest, still a twenty-minute drive into town.
There was just no way Taehyung was able to leave and get back in the same time it took for you to get up the stairs and into your room.
No one can be in two places at once.
What the fuck was going on?
You just saw him. You just talked to him. You just smelled him. You just touched him.
Taehyung’s gaze worriedly ran up and down your face, correctly detecting that something was dreadfully wrong. He kicked the door closed behind him and rather ungracefully dropped the bags, hastily stepping over some of the falling items to race up the steps and take you in his hold.
“Y/n? Baby what’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost! Did something happen while I was gone?” He fretted.
“I-w-what-you-j-just-living room…” You stammered, not even being able to bring yourself to voice what was happening.
“What? What about the living room? You’re not making any sense.”
You gulped, looking up at him with fear. “T-Tae, I could’ve sworn I just saw you in the living room. I talked to you.”
Your boyfriend’s face dropped.
“Y/n, get in the bedroom and lock the door behind you.”
You irritably huffed while blinking away oncoming tears, realizing Taehyung didn’t quite understand what you were saying. “No! Not like an intruder! It was you.”
“I’m right here Y/n. I just got back from the market. I haven’t been home in the past hour. There’s no way you just saw me in this house.” He slowly explained, as if you were having some mental breakdown and needed to be talked off the ledge.
Your temper rose. “No shit Kim Taehyung! That’s why I’m scared! Do you have a twin brother or something? Or did you come into the living room before going back to the car to get the groceries?”
Taehyung backed away from you, clearly put off by your outburst. “No? First off, you know I’m an only child. Secondly, why would I come in and let you talk to me before going back out in the pouring rain, bring in groceries and then pretend I have no idea what you’re talking about when you said you saw me in the house just now?”
You glared up at him, now feeling foolish for even being scared in the first place of something that most definitely had a logical explanation.
Your boyfriend always had a more playful side than you and this was most likely the first trick he was trying to play in your very young relationship.
“I told you I don’t like pranks, Taehyung. You can pull them on your friends all you want but you promised to never pull one on me.”
He threw his hands up in the air in exasperation. “I’m not pranking you! It probably was an intruder who looked kinda like me and instead of letting me go and investigate, you're arguing with me?”
“It wasn’t an intruder! He didn’t take anything!”
Taehyung laughed incredulously, “Great, you're defending some robber over your own boyfriend now? I almost feel jealous.”
“There’s nothing to be jealous over because the guy was you!” You exploded.
“Which isn’t possible!”
“Go look then!” You relented.
Taehyung didn’t need to be told twice. He swiftly ran down the stairs and went through the entire house, searching for an unseen man who managed to trick his girlfriend into thinking he was him.
He found no such person.
It was only while you both wordlessly unpacked the groceries while licking the wounds of your little spat did Taehyung make a point that chilled you to the bone.
“Y/n, when you saw me…how did I look?”
You raised a brow at him. “I don’t know? You looked just fine.”
“Okay…and your working theory is I parked outside and came in, talked to you, then went back out, just to enter through the front again like nothing happened?”
You meekly shrugged, “Yeah I guess that would be a good trick.”
Your clever boyfriend pointed at the window, where it was still raining heavily. “I would've been soaked then, Y/n.”
That was the first incident.
— Dinner that night was a tense affair.
At least until Taehyung solemnly apologized for being so bad at hiding his true identity.
He then fessed up to being the Korean version of The Flash.
Against yourself, you bursted out laughing.
Maybe it was all the anxiety of the day that made you loopy, or your desperate need to just return to normal but you apologized for snapping and blamed your overactive writer's imagination for everything.
Taehyung said it was okay and that you actually looked hot when angry, you knew for a fact you didn’t but took the compliment nonetheless and suggested an early night in.
And just like that your first couple fight was over.
Yet that night when you were in the arms of your slumbering boyfriend, with his peaceful snores rumbling in your ear, all you could think about was the other Taehyung.
You regretfully lied to your boyfriend.
You knew for a fact that it wasn’t your imagination.
You were never the type of writer who got so immersed in your work that you began imagining things and confusing them for reality. If anything, you were too grounded in reality. In addition to this, you highly doubted that multiple weeks of writer’s block would even allow for such a vivid mirage to occur.
And the most damning evidence of all, if it was your imagination…why would your mind conjure up the exact replica of your boyfriend? The very man you live with and see everyday for hours on end? Wouldn’t it be a character from your book? Or at least someone you haven’t seen in a while?
It all didn’t make sense, but you didn’t have enough information to say what it was, you just knew what it wasn’t.
You rolled over and buried your face into Taehyung’s chest, practically praying for the mystery to soon be over and solve itself quickly.
It was most likely the overthinking and looming dark corners of the bedroom, but you began to feel like someone was watching you through the small gap in your ajar bedroom door.
– A few days passed and you have almost forgotten about the incident.
I mean, maybe not entirely but you were at least willing to chalk it up to a freak incident.
Scrolling through some discussion boards online showed that your story was actually pretty tame to what other unexplainable experiences some people have had. At least the other Taehyung didn’t try to scare or hurt you. It just seemed like he was doing his own thing really, like he was lost in his own world staring out that window. Thus you concluded that you weren’t in danger, and it therefore wasn’t worth freaking out about.
Mainly because your editor was on your ass and there was nothing productive about thinking of him when you were already so late on a deadline.
Naturally, you attempted to throw yourself into your writing, which was proving to be as fruitless as ever. Yet you knew giving your editor anything was better than nothing, leading you to sending half-assed drafts to him and enduring long calls about how your writing was okay, but not great.
You and Taehyung have been off too.
There was no more fighting or even words exchanged about the fiasco. However there still was an uneasiness between you two. You doubted that Taehyung believed your imagination excuse, but you also knew that he didn’t trust your original recollection of events either. Your boyfriend sort of walked on eggshells around you, almost as if you’d somehow think he was the imposter whenever he’d step into the room. You would be lying if you said you weren’t a little offended by it.
Luckily, Taehyung was currently immersed with his art, rarely leaving his little workspace. You wished you could say the same but you felt like you were simply writing in circles without actually getting anywhere. It was hard to not be jealous, but at least you were given some space away from him after a rather unresolved fight.
Meanwhile, you were planning to take a day or two off of writing, to just let your mind wander and relax so that maybe the next time you sat behind a laptop you could actually produce something worthwhile.
Of course it would just so happen that it would fall on the very day you get sick.
Waking up that morning you felt feverish and lightheaded, telling yourself that you could just use fifteen more minutes of sleep and you’d probably feel better.
You woke up five hours later; feeling even more feverish, lightheaded, and now nauseous.
You trudged downstairs to the kitchen and popped back some painkillers with a glass of water, already fantasizing about getting back into your warm and comfy bed once again.
Except what could make your bed even warmer and comfier? Taehyung.
Your boyfriend was always the more affectionate one between you two, you often practically had to push him away when you were trying to get work done. But now that you were willingly going to ask for his affection, there was no way he’d let you go uncuddled.
Any awkwardness in the relationship was long forgotten as you stomped towards his workspace, a demand to be held heavy on your tongue. You were too sick and exhausted to try to navigate relationship politics, but the whole point of a boyfriend was that he was supposed to provide attention on demand, right?
You reached his door and feebly knocked, trying to be polite to his artistic process and not just barge in.
You heard some shuffling on the other side and soon enough your boyfriend was in front of you. Taehyung hadn’t shaved his face in days, a faint goatee gracing his already intimidatingly handsome face. His black hair was messy and fluffy, a gold chain gracing his neck and drawing attention to his lack of shirt and gray sweatpants.
He grinned at you, “What’s up baby?”
You pouted up at him, momentarily not even ashamed to resort to such cheap tricks, “I feel sick and want to be cuddled back to sleep.”
“Aww poor thing.” He crooned while leaning against the doorframe. “Why don’t you head back up to bed and I’ll be up as soon as I can? I just finished a sketch and really need to focus on the next few steps before I can quit for the day.”
You huffed, kind of annoyed that he wouldn’t even take a break to hold you.
He rolled his eyes at your reaction, “Don’t look at me like that, honey. When the muse strikes, I gotta paint. Otherwise I don’t know when I’ll get the next chance for inspiration. You understand, right?”
“Yeah, I’m just really crabby and being held sounded really good.”
Taehyung chucked, muttering to himself a “cute” before leaning forward and pecking your lips. “I promise I’ll try to be quick. Go drink some water and wait for me. I’ll bring you some soup when I’m done.”
You just nodded and left him to his work. Instead of the bedroom, your feet somehow led you to the living room.
Maybe you should watch some tv while Taehyung worked? You already slept a lot today and if Taehyung was gonna be in bed with you later, perhaps it was a good idea to stay up for a little bit. Besides, you’ve been avoiding this part of the house ever since the incident and you needed to get comfortable in your own living room eventually.
Such a reminder of that rainy day caused you to cast a wary glance at the bay window, oddly feeling both relief and annoyance that nothing was there.
You plunked down onto the couch and wrapped a throw blanket around you, searching your usual streaming services for some comfort show to watch.
It was halfway through an episode of some show you’ve already watched countless times, when you heard footsteps approaching.
You looked up and saw your boyfriend, looking as cute and messy as before. Except now he held a sheepish smile on his face as he held up a steaming mug of something.
“What’s that?”
He took a seat next to you and gently handed the drink over. “Hot chocolate. I know protocol is tea whenever someone is sick, but I know how much you hate the taste.”
You fondly smiled and took the mug, flustered that he remembered such a minor detail about you. “Thank you love but you didn’t have to. You should be focusing on your work. Don’t let me distract you!”
Taehyung shook his head and threw an arm around you, holding you tight against him. He craned his neck and looked down to you, almost meeting you nose-to nose to connect his gaze with yours. Suddenly a serious expression replaced his formerly sheepish one.
“Actually, I wanted to talk.” He said, taking a deep breath before continuing, “I-I wanted to say sorry.”
“For what?”
He licked his lips, “I know we’ve been kinda out-of-sync ever since you said you saw someone and I didn’t believe you. But, it just didn’t make sense. Like, how is that possible? Whatever the case though, I shouldn’t have made you feel like you were going crazy or something.”
You raised an eyebrow, “So you believe me then?”
“Yes. I know you wouldn’t lie. I don’t know what happened but…I know you know what you saw.”
A warm feeling spread across your chest, temporarily putting your sickness on the back burner. In truth, you weren't sure if the situation even called for an apology but you felt so pampered that your boyfriend cared enough to. “I-I’m sorry too, Tae. I shouldn’t have assumed you were being mean and pranking me. Snapping at you wasn’t cool.”
Taehyung just shrugged. “Nah, I probably would’ve done the same thing.”
You secretly agreed that you were in the right but still, if he was being a big enough person to say sorry so should you. You turned your attention back to the drink in your hands, taking a sip.
You nearly moaned in pleasure when the flavor graced your taste buds.
“What did you put in this?”
“Oh just some cinnamon and-”
“Ginger.” You interrupted, knowing without a doubt that it was the other spice.
“Yup. Why? Is something wrong?” He asked, probably worried you didn’t like it.
“No! It’s perfect.” You said before gulping down more of the nostalgic hot chocolate. “When I was a kid, I had a babysitter who would make her hot chocolate with cinnamon and ginger. Mrs Fritz was her name, a really kind old lady from down the street. I was her favorite so she made hot chocolate for me all the time and watched me for free whenever my parents went out.”
Taehyung hummed, a small smile on his face as you fondly recalled one of the biggest figures of your childhood. “She must’ve had great taste.”
“Mrs. Fritz had impeccable taste.” You good-naturedly corrected with a giggle. “I miss her. When other kids wouldn’t play with me she would stay inside with me and color or read me these cool stories.”
“I would’ve played with you.” Taehyung grumbled, in all likelihood noting how you grimaced at the memory of not being all too popular as a kid.
“Haha, you definitely wouldn’t have! I was such a dork and actually hated playing outside. Kid me much rather be at home watching some old movies or something. Not to mention I was quite an ugly little girl.” You laughed.
Tae gasped dramatically, “That’s not true! You were adorable!”
“You saw like one picture of me at eight! And my mom did me all up for that picture! Trust me, I didn’t look that good at all.”
Taehyung looked like he wanted to argue further, but realizing you were right he just dropped it with an unconvincing, “Whatever you say.”
“But anyway babe, you really can go back to painting. I don’t want to keep you. If I had any inspiration right now, you wouldn’t be able to tear me away from my laptop.”
His arm tugged you even closer. “Nope, I’m alright where I’m at right now. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I left my sick girlfriend all alone?”
You blushed, logically aware that you could handle yourself but emotionally over the moon that this beautiful man didn’t want you to. Selfishly, you wanted to take advantage of his presence even if it came at the expense of his art progress. So you placed the mostly empty mug on the coffee table, fishing out your phone from your sweatpant pocket and setting it there too.
You then curled up into his side, suddenly feeling so drowsy.
Taehyung held you closer, even playing with your hair as you lost the battle with your increasingly heavy eyelids.
You felt him press his lips against your forehead in a drawn out peck, as his nose ticked the crown of your head. He inhaled deeply, his everlasting love for your shampoo revealing itself once more.
“You okay?” His baritone voice whispered.
“Yeah. I just took some medicine that’s probably making me all sleepy.” You mumbled back.
You didn’t hear anything else, just felt as he rested his head on top of yours, presumably also closing his eyes to rest.
Slowly but surely feeling the mechanisms of your brain shut down, the darkness steadily taking over as the sound of the tv became more and more distant.
A notification from your phone caused you to open a single eye, quickly scanning the screen on the coffee table.
Taebear: Hey almost done over here! Do you mind turning down the TV a bit tho? Kinda distracting :(
Before you can even gasp, the medicine-induced darkness consumed you completely, effectively and brutally knocking you out.
That was the second incident.
–
“So like I was saying, I dumped his ass because what the fuck do you mean you ‘don’t know what we are’? I met his damn parents, Y/n!”
The voice blarred over the phone speaker, as you hummed rather noncommittally. “What a jerk. You can do a whole lot better, Lisa.”
You were in the laundry room, slowly taking clothes out of the dryer and folding them as you spoke on the phone with one of your closest friends. About once a week you two would have a call and catch each other up with your lives. Although, Lisa led a much more interesting life than you and usually had a crazy story to share every week, while you just reacted to it. It was kinda like a one listener podcast, but you didn’t mind as you were always very entertained with her.
“Thank you! I don’t know where I keep finding these guys. You really got lucky with Taehyung, all the other men our age are such assholes.” She groaned.
You wanted to laugh, but at the mention of your boyfriend’s name you froze.
Not catching your silence, Lisa continued, “Anyway, how are you and Taehyung doing? What’s it like to live together only six months into a relationship?”
“Actually…we had our first fight.” You told her. “Maybe. I don’t know. It may not even be considered a fight so much as a disagreement but I’ve been feeling a little awkward.”
“Oooh, what happened?” She didn’t even try to mask her excitement.
“It…I…Something happened and he didnt…I don’t know, Lisa. I’m going to sound crazy but I feel like I’m experiencing a glitch in the matrix or some shit.”
She pushed, “Try me. Remember when I used to be a flat earther? I’ll believe anything.”
Lisa made a good point, she was always down for conspiracies and even proclaimed herself a supernatural expert. So you relented, “Okay. Look, I don’t want you to laugh at me or anything because I’m being completely honest. I’m telling you this because I desperately need theories.”
“I promise I’ll give you a theory! Just get to it!” She barked over the phone, anxiously awaiting your story.
“Um, so earlier this week I went downstairs and saw Taehyung. I talked to him about ordering out instead of cooking, hugged him then went up the stairs. Then not even a second later Taehyung came home with groceries, telling me he wasn’t in the house at all when I said I saw him.” You paused, waiting for her to interject.
“Huh…” She trailed off, stumped herself with what that could mean.
“And yesterday, I went to Tae’s workspace to try to cuddle but he said he needed a bit more time with his painting and then he’d meet me upstairs. I went to the couch to wait and he suddenly came in and apologized for not believing me earlier. We cuddled and talked then…I got a text from Taehyung asking me to turn the tv down because it was distracting him.”
You took a deep breath to calm your rising nerves, not liking how you were managing to scare yourself all over again. “Lisa, how was I in Taehyung's arms when Taehyung wasn’t even in the room with me?”
“How did this other Taehyung act? Was he any different than your actual boyfriend?”
“I mean, the first time he didn’t say a word and I left the room quickly. The second time he was so sweet and…I don’t know. Maybe even nicer than my actual boyfriend but not like suspiciously so.”
“And there’s no difference between him and Taehyung? Same height, voice, birthmarks, everything?”
“Yes.”
A brief silence as she no doubt was working with a theory. “And you’ve never had experiences like this before you moved into that farmhouse?”
“None.”
“Ah-ha! It’s probably a ghost then!” She assured triumphantly.
You, however, weren’t so sure she solved the case. “A ghost that looks exactly like my boyfriend?”
“Well, crazier things have happened. You know, scientists say that each person has around six doppelgangers out there somewhere. What if this ghost was your boyfriend's doppelganger?”
“Still, why would he act like he was my boyfriend? Like, this ghost must have a different name and background than my Taehyung so why does he go along with it whenever I call him Taehyung and treat him like a boyfriend?” You questioned.
“The afterlife can get pretty dull. The ghost is probably just bored and noticed that Taehyung looks alot like him, so he’s using that to his advantage to mess around.”
“That doesn’t make me feel better.” You grumbled, pissed at the prospect of you being a little plaything to a bored spirit.
“I know babe but ghosts are mostly harmless. If it really starts to bother you, maybe get a medium to move him along or whatever.” Lisa advised.
“Yeah, maybe.” – Mom: Look what I found!
The text came with a video attached, and you clicked it without thinking much.
A chubby little girl of about three to five years of age was badly hiding in a school cubby. Her mini feet sticking out and wiggling as the rest of her body was covered by a hung up winter coat. The cameraman sighed dramatically from behind the scenes, asking loudly, “Oh where could Y/n possibly be?!”
The girl giggled and a new figure slowly snuck into frame, approaching the cubby with a large grin.
The preschool teacher suddenly reached into the cubby and snatched the girl up, holding her up in the air as if the toddler was a prize of some sort. “Gotcha!”
The mini version of you laughed in her hold, kicking the air in glee. “Miss Addison you found me! You’ll find me anywhere, right?”
The young teacher nodded as she placed you on your feet. “Of course! I have a really good Y/n sense! I’ll find you anywhere.”
“Even the moon?” Innocent you asked, most likely just having learned about the star.
“Yes, I’ll find you on the moon if I have to!” Miss Addison chuckled.
The video ended and you went to type your mom a half-hearted reply, mostly inquiring how she still even had that clip after all these years.
While doing so, you caught yourself wishing that you could show this to Taehyung and prove that you were indeed not the best company as a child, your teacher had to play hide-and-seek with you because no one else would.
Yet, it wasn’t Taehyung you had that particular conversation with. Rather other Taehyung.
Or as you and Lisa had nicknamed; ghost Taehyung.
You failed to tell your boyfriend about the second incident. He woke you up an hour or so later with his promised bowl of soup, softly scolding you for never turning down the tv.
Deep inside you were sure that he was already convinced you were crazy from the first time his replica showed up. You didn’t seek to push that theory even further. Mostly because you didn’t want him to admit you to a psych ward, but also because of another glaring reason. The first time you were sure that Taehyung himself was messing with you somehow, which prompted you to accuse him, but this time around you knew for a fact he was innocent.
Instinctively, you didn’t feel threatened by the doppelganger spirit. If anything you sorta wished he’d pop up again with a ginger-cinnamon hot chocolate. It was kinda weird that he was acting like your boyfriend when he wasn’t, but he didn’t try to be too intimate with you or anything. The lease on the farmhouse was only twelve months so you could put up with a friendly ghost for a while if need be.
The only creepy thing was that you weren’t sure how you were going to tell if you were talking to the real Taehyung or not. Thankfully, the sick day incident seemed to be the last one, the last few days being almost eerily mundane.
The door to your bedroom suddenly slammed open, revealing your beaming boyfriend.
He held up a champagne bottle with one hand and two glasses in the other. “Guess what just happened!”
You sat up in bed and placed your phone on the nightstand as he giddily approached you. “What? Are we celebrating something?”
“Only the Bauhaus Gallery agreeing to schedule a showing for my latest collection!”
You jumped up in surprise, instantly wrapping your arms around him and plastering his face with kisses. “Oh my god! Tae! That’s amazing! I’m so proud of you! When is it?!”
“Next Friday at eight.” He chuckled through your kisses, fully basking in your attention.
The Bauhaus gallery was an uppity German gallery in town that apparently served as a who's who in the world of painting. Personally, you didn’t get what the big deal was, but Taehyung made it one of his career goals to have a show there. He always said that his career would really take off if he could showcase his work at such a place.
You pulled back and began thinking out loud as Taehyung worked on the bottle, “Wow, okay! I need to get a dress. And we should invite some friends to support you. Oh! Namjoon and his wife would probably try to buy a painting so we should see if they’re free-”
Taehyung cut you off with the resounding pop of the bottle, “Yeah yeah, we can plan that all out later. Right now I just wanna celebrate with my pretty girlfriend please.”
You quieted down and held the glasses as he poured. He then placed the bottle aside, took a glass and held it up for you to clink. You did so while your boyfriend declared, “To my collection and girlfriend; both beautiful and priceless!”
“You better announce that again at the afterparty!” You laughed, covering your blush.
You both finished the drinks rather quickly, him with a refreshing “ahh” and you with a cringe. Champagne really was overrated in your opinion, having no idea why it was the token celebratory drink. The glasses were then shoved somewhere aside, courtesy of Tae.
You laid back down in the bed, Taehyung unhurriedly following suit and even climbing on top of you at a leisurely pace.
Taehyung’s face was now inches away from yours, his every breath tickling your skin. His previous mood of joy shifted into something more…sultry. Cat eyes darkened, fully taking you in with a steadily growing smirk. The artist licked this bottom lip in a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it speed, before quirking one brow up in faux inquiry. His voice was low and husky, purring into your ears, “You know, it’s been a while since we’ve fucked.”
You snorted, “Gee, that’s hard to believe when you put me in the mood like that.”
“You like a man who's upfront.” He shrugged, not wasting a second more as he leaned down to slowly melt his lips against yours.
The intimate sensation felt almost foreign, the last few days having only been filled with obligatory pecks due to you two being so caught up in your work. You almost forgot how talented he was at making you feel special.
You kissed back just as slowly, feeling the intensity of his lips and taking the time to reacquaint yourself with them. It was gentle, deep, and meaningful. He kissed you gingerly, carefully, but that’s not what you wanted. Not after all this time. Pent-up sexual frustration caused you to knot your fists in his shirt, pulling him harder against you.
Taehyung groaned softly, low in his throat while encircling you in his arms to gather you against him. You two rolled over in the bed, tangled in the sheets, still locked at the lips.
His tongue slips into your mouth, tender but demanding. You swirl your tongue against his, moaning into his mouth as his hands snuck up to twist in your hair and grip you impossibly closer. Taehyung’s slight stubble prickles you, but somehow the extra sensation just excites you even more. Your boyfriend's lips pull back and meet their ultimate home at your neck, him now mouthing fervently at the sensitive nerves there as you gasped for air.
As you felt hotter and hotter, Taehyung answered your unsaid prayer and positioned his thigh between your legs, obscenely brushing against the place you needed him most. Knowing you like the back of his hand, he purposefully tensed his thigh as you not-so-subtly grinded against it, all the while he sucked and nibbled at the spot just below your ear.
A tug at your clothes.
Softly biting your earlobe, he whispered, “Be a good girl for me and take this shit off.”
Just when you were about to oblige, an unexpected sound cut through all the haze and caused you both to freeze.
It sounded like a…bang?
From somewhere deep within the house.
It was so loud and shrill, it effortlessly echoed off the walls of your humble bedroom. If you had to describe it, it was as if someone had just thrown a bowling ball with all their might.
Undoubtedly snapping into protector mode, Taehyung immediately jumped off of you and reached under the bed to retrieve a metal baseball bat.
“Stay here.” He ordered, already marching out the door before you could even protest.
You fearfully obeyed, reaching for your phone in case 911 had to be called.
Your once warm and flushed body was now icy with panic. Sitting upright in the bed, you strained your ears for any idea of what was occurring downstairs.
But alas, the house remained freakily silent. Almost as if that brutal sound was in your head and nothing more.
This did nothing to help your anxiety, a cold sweat quickly forming.
Minutes passed, you waited with bated breath for something. Anything.
But nothing ever came.
Your worry grew tenfold.
The longer Taehyung was away, the more you felt weighed down with dread, heart nearly in your throat.
‘What was happening downstairs? Was Taehyung okay? Did he find something? If there was a struggle, surely you would’ve heard it by now, right?’
Then ultimately, as the seconds ticked on, ‘Was your boyfriend going to come back?’
At the ten-minute mark, you made your decision.
Now concerned for your boyfriend’s safety, you sprung out of bed and ran out of the room. Your body purposefully moving too fast for your mind to catch up and halt your movements in the name of self-preservation.
“Taehyung?!” You desperately called out as you practically plummeted down the stairs.
“In here!” A croaky voice answered, sounding like your boyfriend but oddly…defeated?
You correctly traced the voice to his workroom, stepping into the space and seeing a scene that swiftly broke your heart, effectively replacing all your fright with woe.
Taehyung was on his knees in front of an easel, head bowed down.
The easel held a half-done canvas.
It was a sketch of two people, a man and a woman that closely resembled you and Taehyung.
It was partly painted, the scene depicting a warm sunny day at the park that looked alot like where Taehyung had taken you for a picnic and officially asked you to be his girlfriend. You were in Taehyung’s arms, kissing his cheek as he smiled his signature box-smile. You could recall that precise moment easily, you had just said yes to being his and sheepishly pecked his cheek, embarrassed by the old man on the bench a few feet away that eyed you two like a hawk.
It was a wonderful piece of unfinished art, not only due to the sentimental value but also the artistry and time that clearly went into it.
If only there weren't angry red sloshes of paint that cut through it, ruining the picture and turning it into something that looked like a horrible bloody mess of goo and not the romantic day it was.
“I-I was going to gift this to you….on our seventh month.” Taehyung’s voice was watery.
You didn’t even know what to say.
All of his hard work and thought was simply…gone. Erased. Ruined.
It would’ve been the equivalent of someone breaking into your laptop and deleting your entire novel’s draft. What would you even do? If roles were reversed, would there even be a way for Taehyung to console you? To make matters worse, it was his gift of love to you. He didn’t make that painting for himself, a buyer, or a collection…he made it for you.
Your empathy made you almost cry for him, but you knew that would be the last thing he’d want to see right now. His guilt would only grow.
You walked further into the room and got on your knees beside him.
Wrapping your arms around him, you cradled his head in the nook between your head and shoulder while rocking the two of you. “Tae baby, I’m so sorry.”
He didn’t say anything for a while, although you felt wet teardrops on your skin.
“Who would do this? It doesn’t make sense why someone would break in, take nothing and just destroy my gift?”
You didn’t know either, but you wanted to make him feel better. “Listen, I think it was the perfect gift. It’s really the thought that counts and I’m just happy that you even thought to make me something like that. Especially in the middle of working on your own collection, it must’ve been hard.”
Taehyung pulled back, regarding you with a tearful but hopeful gaze. “Really?”
“Of course! I was literally going to just get you a watch or something. That gift kinda would have made me look bad.” You attempted to joke.
He shakily smiled, even chuckling a bit before pulling back entirely and standing to his full height. Tae then held a hand out for you, pulling you up as well.
Not wanting to be in the room anymore with that awful mess, you gradually pushed him towards the door, eventually up the stairs and into your bedroom.
You both sat on the bed, him with his head in his hands and you awkwardly suggesting yet another early night in.
But instead of agreeing and attempting to join you under the covers, Taehyung continued to sit almost painfully still at the edge of your bed.
Then, he spoke.
“Y/n, you were lying when you said that guy was probably just a figment of your imagination.”
It wasn’t a question.
He knew.
He believed you now.
–
It was now the official opinion of the house that a ghost was indeed roaming around somewhere.
You wanted to pat yourself on the back because truly, your taste in men was superior.
Taehyung wasn’t one of those horror movie boyfriends that was convinced every unexplainable occurrence must’ve had a logical explanation. It only took that one experience for the artist to admit that something weird was going on, and although he never saw the ghost himself, Taehyung believed you when you said it looked exactly like him.
You were happy that you two were on the same page…well, mostly.
Taehyung reasoned that the lookalike ghost must’ve been the one to ruin his painting.
You don’t know why, but somewhere deep within, that accusation just didn’t feel right. Without thinking much, you had told your boyfriend that destroying his gift didn’t seem like something ghost Tae would do.
Obviously Taehyung was bewildered at your sudden defense of the spirit’s character and demanded to know how you could be so sure that it wasn’t him.
Feeling that your hand was forced, you fessed up to the second incident in which you ran into the other Taehyung. You explained that he was sweet, brought you hot chocolate and even held you as you fell asleep. It was only after the real Taehyung texted you that you realized it wasn’t your boyfriend, but by then it was too late.
Your boyfriend was understandably furious.
For one, you never told him that you were cuddled and taken care of by another man, dead or otherwise. And secondly, this spirit seemed to be taking too much of a liking to you. The artist was a weird mixture of jealous and protective, following you around the house and barely leaving you alone in fear that his replica would show up and snatch you away.
You thought he was overreacting, but Taehyung's determination to get rid of the ghost only grew as the days passed.
One day you took a break from writing and went downstairs to refresh your coffee, when you paused at the sight of your boyfriend waving an odd burning stick around the living room in a fashion that somehow made sense to him.
“Sage cleanses the home of negative energy and basically tells unwanted spirits to fuck off.” He told you as if you were the idiot and not him- wildly thrashing his arm around in a puff of smoke and demanding that his evil ghost twin left the premises immediately.
You shrugged, “Just don’t set off the smoke detector, please.”
The next day, Taehyung informed you over dinner that he called a security camera company and had ordered a set to be installed in your home.
“Don’t you think that’s kinda a big fucking thing to not run by me?”
“I’m sorry baby, but I knew you wouldn’t have agreed.” He apologized without seeming even the tiniest bit apologetic.
“If you knew I wouldn’t have wanted it then why do it anyway?!”
“Because as the man of the house it’s my job to protect us and I would like to witness everything that’s going on. Next time he comes out and tries to touch you, I will be able to see it from my phone and confront him.” He then reached for his water and took a self righteous sip before muttering under his breath, “That is if the sage didn’t kick him out already.”
“Man of the house?!” You echoed incredulously. “You call twirling around with some burning twigs and yelling at a harmless ghost being the man of the house?”
“He’s not harmless! Why are you so convinced that it’s just a casper that we’re dealing with?!”
You opened your mouth to retort, but snapped it shut when you realized you didn’t really have any reason to believe he wasn’t dangerous. So you just focused on the main glaring issue, “Nevermind that. I just don’t like how you made a big decision without telling me. Are we not equal in this relationship? It wasn’t even worth consulting me about?”
Taehyung didn’t say anything.
It would seem that he understood your point, but was stubbornly holding onto his just a tad more.
Appetite ruined, you stormed away in a display of vexation.
Not wanting to go to sleep beside him either, you stayed all night in your office and tried to just focus on editing the latest version of your draft.
Somewhere along the way, you managed to fall asleep on the keyboard.
You blearily awoke hours later to the sound of the door firmly shutting.
Groggily you sat up and twisted to see if anyone else was in the room with you, all the while rubbing off the key imprints on your cheek and leftover drool.
No one was there.
When you turned your attention back to the desk, you softly gasped in surprise.
A plate of grilled cheese sat there, still hot.
Alongside it was a steaming mug of hot chocolate.
One sip and you instantly recognized the ginger-cinnamon.
It wasn’t your boyfriend who left this.
The sage didn’t work.
–
Ralph was a man of about fifty years of age.
Tall, lumbering, calloused and not necessarily easy on the eyes, he shifted awkwardly at the entrance of your delicate farmhouse as Taehyung listed off the places in the home that he’d like covered.
Ralph was to set up the cameras while you and your boyfriend went out for a quick errand.
The gallery showing was tomorrow, and so was the little afterparty that you had arranged to take place. You did so without really realizing all that you would need for hosting. The guest list was an intimate circle of seven, but given you and Taehyung were running out of groceries for even just the two of you, you figured a trip to the market was needed to properly prepare.
You rolled your eyes and waited for your boyfriend to finish his little pep talk, sighing in relief when Ralph was finally free to disappear into the living room with his bag of tools.
“Ready?” You asked Taehyung, not really waiting for an answer as you stomped past him and out the door.
He followed you wordlessly to the car.
The ride into town was stiff and awkward, neither one of you saying anything and music not even playing in the background as Taehyung drove.
You both were still angry at each other.
Well, more like you were angry at him and he was correctly trying to not poke the bear by instigating useless chatter.
The cameras were overkill in your opinion and a giant waste of money. You both were artists, which means a severe lack of steady income. You needed to be smart with what you threw cash at because no one knew if your next book or his next painting would even sell. Nothing was ever guaranteed.
You felt for him that his gift was wrecked, but you weren’t lying when you said that the thought was all that really mattered to you. You genuinely didn’t care either way, it would’ve been nice to have the painting, but it was just as nice to know that he was painting one for you.
If you were a betting woman, you would bet that this was more about Taehyung’s unfounded jealousy than anything else. Usually you would find harmless jealousy kind of attractive, but not when it went into installing cameras into your home at the “low” price of a couple hundred dollars.
You thought of this in a quiet rage as Taehyung pulled into the grocery store.
He parked, you both got out and walked inside before grabbing a cart.
“Let’s split up.” You said, your tone leaving no room for argument.
“Fine. What do you want me to get?”
“Get the drinks. They’re mainly your friends so you’d know what they’d like more than me. I’ll get some stuff for a charcuterie board.” You ordered, just wanting to get back home as soon as possible
He nodded and swiftly went over to the alcohol section as you made way into the food aisles.
You were looking at the different types of crackers and wondering what the fuck the difference was when a sudden call of your name took your attention.
“Y/n?”
The voice was light and airy, tone warm and nostalgic to the ears.
No way.
It can’t be…
You swirled around to face the owner, nearly choking on your spit when you realized your suspicions were correct.
Park Jimin was as gorgeous as ever. The cherub face was just as you recalled, somehow both ruggedly handsome and softly docile. His eyes crinkled behind a pearly smile, a small hand coming up to swiftly brush through his dyed blonde hair as he approached you.
“I thought that was you.” He chuckled. “How have you been? It’s been so long.”
You managed a wry smile.
Jimin was once your college boyfriend of one year, five months, and eight days.
But hey, who was counting?
“I’m doing okay.” You choked out, not liking how he quickly frowned at your strained tone. If there was one man you could never lie to, it was Jimin. “How about yourself? Did you open up that studio you always wanted?”
The truth was you knew he did. Before meeting and dating Taehyung, you were guilty of occasionally checking his social media. It simply couldn’t be helped. Jimin was the longest relationship you ever had. The first man you ever really loved. And your first ever heartbreak.
“Um, yeah I did! I heard you published your first book last year. I bought a few copies myself…” he trailed off sheepishly, suddenly avoiding eye contact. “It uh, was really well written. Are you um, working on anything now?”
You bit your lip, not sure how you felt about the man you were once wildly in love with reading your novel after years of not talking. Much less buying more than one copy to support you. “Y-Yes I’m writing my second book.”
He nodded, a proud expression on his face as he pursed his lips in thought.
“I’m sorry this is…weird.” He finally huffed. “I really didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”
You sighed with some relief, thankful he felt the same way. “Same. After you said you wanted to date other people I really didn’t expect to say another word to you like, ever.”
Jimin laughed, “Haha, what? Your memory continues to suck, Y/n. If anything it was you who ghosted-”
“Y/n.”
A much deeper voice cut through the air, bringing all the attention to a new figure descending upon the scene.
Taehyung strode up from behind you, placing an arm around you and regarding the other man with a brooding look of regard.
“Whose this?” Your boyfriend asked, purposefully deepening his already deep voice.
You inwardly rolled your eyes, noting how the artist was practically puffing his chest and glowering at the much shorter man.
“Taehyung, this is my old friend Jimin. Jimin, this is my boyfriend Taehyung.”
The two stiffly nodded at each other, you dodging the questioning look Jimin secretly shot at you for being described as ‘an old friend’.
A pregnant pause hung in the air.
“So…how long have you two been together?”
Before either you or your boyfriend could answer, a pretty lady suddenly skipped into the aisle and grasped onto Jimin’s arm.
“Babe, I can’t find the oat milk! I thought you said- Oh hello!” She just now noticed you and Taehyung, smiling politely and not-so-subtly nudging at Jimin to introduce her.
“Oh, um, this is Molly.”
“His girlfriend! And you two are?”
“I’m Y/n and this is my boyfriend Taehyung.” You introduced. “Jimin and I went to school together.”
“Really? I never get to meet any of Jimin’s old friends! We should have a double date or something!” Molly was an over the top girl, your ears almost ringing at the volume she exuded. But she seemed nice, so you smiled warmly at her and vaguely agreed.
Another brief, awkward and only slightly painful silence.
“Actually…” You trailed off in thought, an idea forming in your head but you didn’t know if it was a good one. Yet it was too late. Before you could even backtrack, all three sets of eyes were on you, eagerly waiting for you to finish the thought. “…what are you two doing tomorrow night?”
“Was just gonna drag Jiminnie to see this new movie! We can totally blow it off though!”
“Well, my boyfriend is a really talented artist and he has a showing tomorrow night. We’d love it if you two could make it.”
You felt Taehyung stiffen beside you, but you paid it no mind.
From what you understood about showings the more people, the more eyes, the better. It was harmless, wasn’t it? Jimin bought multiple copies of your book, and you’d invite him to a gallery showing to please his over hyper girlfriend.
Even, right?
Molly beamed, asking for your number to exchange the details.
You did so, pretending not to notice how both Jimin and Taehyung bore their stares into you.
When finished, you waved goodbye to the couple as they made their way to the dairy section. You and Taehyung then continued your own shopping in a rushed manner- your boyfriend grumbling about having to get back in time for the cameras.
The ride home was a bit more talkative, with Taehyung asking how you knew of Jimin and what made you two friends. You answered the questions rather honestly, just leaving out the parts about how your friendship blossomed into something more.
You weren’t exactly trying to be deceitful. It was just that he was under a lot of stress and paranoia the last few days, you didn’t want to push his poor nerves any further. If he was willing to set up a bunch of cameras to keep some ghost away from you, you didn’t want to push your luck by mentioning that Jimin was your ex boyfriend and longest relationship.
Besides, it wasn’t like Jimin was any kind of threat. You would never entertain the idea of going back to the guy who dumped you. He also now had Molly, so clearly you both moved on.
Taehyung pulled the car into the driveway, asking if you could handle the few bags as he went in to talk to Ralph and sort out the last few steps of installation. You agreed, watching him jog into the home as you gathered all the groceries and took your time to get inside.
You beelined straight to the kitchen with the newly bought food, raising your brows when you saw Taehyung staring at something intently on the counter.
“What is it?”
Taehyung didn’t answer.
You walked up behind him and stood on your tippy toes to spot over his shoulder what he was looking at.
It was a note, in messy and hurried handwriting.
“Sorry but the cameras could not have been installed. It won’t work here. -Ralph.”
–
If there was any man on top of the world tonight- his name was Kim Taehyung.
The Bauhaus gallery was swarmed with countless people, all clamoring to gaze upon the latest Kim collection and ponder the intricate meanings behind each piece. They wore luxury clothes and drank fancy wine that you couldn’t even pronounce, their tax bracket clearly a couple pegs above yours. There was of course some idle chatter, almost every corner of the building being filled with some pretentious snob rambling about the brush strokes, artistic style and commentary your boyfriend was allegedly trying to make with his art.
Such a crowd was not something you were accustomed to.
Thus you clung to Lisa, both idly sipping at wine and watching your boyfriend from afar as he charmingly answered questions.
“You know, he’s going to make thousands of dollars tonight.” Lisa thought out loud. “These rich types will outbid each other like crazy.”
You shrugged nonchalantly. You were happy for him, and knew he deserved it but you would be lying if you said he wasn’t in the doghouse.
“Still mad huh?” Lisa correctly assumed, reading your expression. “What happened after the camera dude disappeared?”
“Taehyung was really upset and called the company to demand his money back. They refunded him entirely, apologized and even sent someone to get the company van. I guess the Ralph dude was an alcoholic and everyone just kinda accepts that he skipped town.” You explained. “I tried to calm him down but he sorta snapped at me about how I never even wanted the cameras so I was probably just loving it all.”
Lisa lowly whistled, “Damn. Well, he probably snapped about the cameras but I promise you it wasn’t just about that.”
“What do you mean?”
“You invited your ex to his showing.” Lisa lectured, as if you were a child who didn’t even understand what you did wrong.
You stuttered, “B-But he doesn’t know Jimin is an ex! I told him he was just an old friend.”
She rolled her eyes, “Y/n of course he would see right through that. There's always going to be chemistry between Jimin and you, he probably picked up on it and is aware you’re not telling the complete truth about what you two were.”
“He’s just overly jealous. He wants to fight our ghost too. At this point, every man is a threat to him.”
At the mention of your ghost, Lisa’s eyes practically sparkled. “Oh I can’t wait to go back to your place! I want to feel the haunted energy for myself.”
Now it was your turn to roll your eyes, “It’s just like any other home, Lisa.”
“That’s because you don’t have a psychic sense to save your life, Y/n.”
You didn’t know whether or not to be offended by that, so you decided to distract yourself by scanning the room for your boyfriend’s invited friends.
Kim Namjoon was an old boss of Taehyung that remained good friends with the artist even after he dumped his job to take up painting full time. Currently, he and his wife Jennifer were talking rather seriously to a thin-lipped curator, most likely about purchasing one of the artworks displayed.
Right across from where you and Lisa stood, Taehyung was conversing with his former coworkers; Jin and Hoseok. They appeared to be laughing about something, their lightheartedness standing out in the overly serious room of people.
If you craned your neck a little to the left, you could spot Yoongi and Jungkook hiding in a corner away from everyone else, almost perfectly mimicking you and your close friend. They both nursed their drinks quietly, occasionally sharing words but mainly just waiting out this event.
You always kind of thought that Lisa and Jungkook would make a good pairing if properly introduced and pushed. So you turned to your friend and was just about to suggest you guys walk over, when she made a face at something behind you.
“Uh oh, here comes the ex.” She mumbled.
You turned around to indeed see Jimin and Molly approaching.
Jimin wore a suit, dress shirt unbuttoned at the top to reveal some of his sun kissed chest. His blonde hair was properly done this time, brushed to the side and back to fully expose his forehead. He raised a hand and waved, rings catching the light and nearly blinding you in the process.
Beside him, Molly looked as pretty as ever in a blue sweetheart dress that complimented her figure. Yet, she looked rather irritated. She attempted to give you a smile in greeting, but it looked more like a grimace.
Jimin spoke first, “Hey, I’m so sorry we’re late. I’m hoping we didn’t miss too much?”
You wanted to be annoyed but without meaning to, a giggle escaped you.
“Things really don’t change.” You told Jimin, a knowing look simmering in your eyes. While dating, you guys were often the couple that showed up late to any event. Most people assumed that it was your doing because you were the girl, when in all actuality it was Jimin.
Jimin shamelessly grinned, “I’ve gotten better, I swear.”
You didn’t believe it for a second and he knew it.
You both shared a laugh, staring at each other fondly like old friends reliving the old times.
It was hard to believe that you were joking with the man you once thought you’d never get over or forgive. Countless nights were spent eating your feelings, hysterically crying and obsessing over all the videos or pictures you couldn’t bring yourself to delete.
But there are some people in life that as soon as they come back, it’s like they never left.
And it was almost as if Jimin never left.
You two continued to gaze into each other, lost in your own comfortable bubble when a sudden throat clearing broke the haze.
“Um, actually the showing is almost over.” Lisa informed, her and Molly visibly looking left out of the nostalgia.
Your ex had the decency to look guilty. “Oh no! I’m so sorry! Maybe we can all just get drinks? There’s a nice bar two blocks down. I can buy a round for everyone?”
“That’s sweet but we have a little after party planned back at my place. I live kind of out of town though, so it’s okay if you can’t make it.”
“No! We can make it! What's the address?” Jimin seemed eager.
You told him, him pulling out his phone to save it into his gps system.
Molly was silent all this time, which was kind of worrying as your first meeting with her led you to believe she was the bubbly type. Now that you mentioned it, it looked like she was avoiding looking at either you or her boyfriend, focusing on a spot on the wall somewhere behind you.
You opened your mouth to maybe ask if she was alright, but quickly shut it when you realized that could be overstepping some boundary.
Fortunately, Lisa seemed to have enough of this entire interaction and grabbed your arm while saying, “Me and Y/n were just going to go to the restroom! Please take a good look around and enjoy her boyfriend’s work! See you guys at the after party!”
Your friend then swiftly dragged you away, barely leaving you enough time to smile apologetically at the couple.
When you both entered the restroom, Lisa simply marched up to the sink and began fixing invisible smudges in her makeup as you shifted awkwardly beside her.
“So…” She started, looking you up and down in the mirror. “Please tell me you know Jimin is still in love with you.”
“W-What?! No way!” You spluttered.
“Y/n it’s so obvious. I actually felt bad for his girlfriend. He couldn’t take his eyes off you.” She rolled her eyes, almost disappointed in your lack of awareness.
“It’s just been forever. It’s hard to not hyperfocus on eachother, we’ve both changed so much. Also, why would the guy who dumped me out of nowhere still be in love with me?”
She released a deep sigh, “He knows he made the shittiest mistake of his life and is now regretting it when seeing you and your talented boyfriend doing so well.”
You chuckled at the thought of someone looking at your relationship and being jealous.
“Listen, just remember tonight is Taehyung’s night and fighting or not, he’s still a wonderful boyfriend overall. And Jimin is your ex who broke your heart. Inviting him to your place after this might’ve been too much. I suggest you keep your distance.”
“Lisa, thanks for the advice but I honestly was just being friendly. He seemed sorry that he missed most of the showing. Besides, I’m going to be too busy hosting to have a deep heart to heart with him or anything.” You explained, a little offended that she thought you were going to play part in some dramatic reconciliation.
A sudden announcement echoed outside the restroom doors, your ears straining to hear a gallery worker asking everyone to gather on the main floor for the artist’s speech and thus the final part of the night.
Saying nothing more, Lisa and you made your exit to join the audience.
– The clock was nearing midnight.
Your usually quiet farmhouse of a home was not at all quiet.
Your boyfriend's friends were merrily talking and drinking, once in a while their masculine laughs would sync up and reverberate through the halls. They all conversed and lounged in the living room, the largest part of the house that could fit all of them comfortably. Yet, you and Lisa stayed in the kitchen, making the drinks and finger foods, as you indulged in harmless girl talk.
“The one with tattoos is so hot, Y/n. Please tell me he’s single!”
“Jungkook? I’m pretty sure he is. Taehyung told me that Namjoon is the only other one in the friend group that’s in a relationship.”
“Okay, so far so good.” She paused to pop a stuffed mushroom in her mouth, humming in thought. “What’s his type though? Like, would I have to make the first move? Does he like a straightforward girl? Because he hasn’t so much as looked at me tonight.”
“I’ve only met Taehyung’s friends once before so I don’t know their types or anything. I do think Jungkook looks a lot manlier than he actually is. He’s very kind but shy so you’ll have to talk to him first.” You explained while opening another bottle of wine for the two of you.
Lisa frowned at the thought, not used to being the one that had to chase.
You poured two glasses, handing her one with a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, I can introduce you two. It’s kind of a good thing he’s avoiding you like the plague, Tae once said he only acts like that with pretty girls.”
Your friend lit up like the fourth of july.
“Hey babe!” A familiar deep voice called out.
You looked around to see your boyfriend stepping into the kitchen, a buzzed smile on his face and a slightly glazed film over his eyes.
Moments like these made you realize how much of a lightweight your boyfriend was. It only took one or two drinks for him to get tipsy. But it was still his night and he was already home amongst loved ones, so all you could do is smile endearingly at his slightly intoxicated self.
“Yes, handsome?”
His boxy grin grew, “The boys want more beer.”
“Already?! I put out a twelve pack! People need to be able to drive home, ya know!”
He laughed, “Baby, my friends can drink a gallon each and still be able to drive home with their eyes closed if need be.”
“Well I don’t have any more beer up here. Just wine. There might be some more in the basement, though.”
He nodded in thanks, turning his back to presumably go to the basement and retrieve the drinks.
Lisa waited for him to get fully out of earshot before leaning over and dramatically whispering, “How is Jimin and that Molly girl doing?”
You shrugged, “Last time I was in there, Hoseok was making conversation with Jimin and Molly was all over Yoongi.”
“Damn, trouble in paradise?”
“I don’t know. He didn’t seem too bothered and she seemed a little drunk. She might just get overly friendly when she drinks.”
“And you’re still convinced that he’s over you?”
You rolled your eyes but ultimately stayed silent, aware that the couple was acting sorta strange but also not so sure that you were the cause. You took your wine in one hand and a plate of appetizers in the other, motioning for Lisa to grab the rest and follow you.
When you both entered the living room, you were thrilled to spot Jungkook sitting alone on one of the loveseats. You quickly set the food down and pulled Lisa along with you, approaching him with a friendly smile meant to put him at ease. Considering the way his eyes widened at the sight of your friend, you didn’t know how successful you were.
“Hey Jungkook, it’s been a while!” You greeted.
“Y-Yeah it has been. How’s your erm, book going?”
“It’s doing okay, thanks for asking. Have you met my friend, Lisa?”
He briefly scanned your friend, nervously gulping before saying quietly, “…No I haven't.”
“Oh well, Lisa was just saying how much she liked your tattoos.” You nudged her, prompting her to say something.
She just nodded in agreement, suddenly meek.
He blushed, “Thank you.”
“Actually, Lisa, weren't you saying that you were thinking of getting a tattoo?” You pretended to think out loud, as if you weren’t outright playing them. You didn’t wait for her to answer the rhetorical question, “Jungkook, don’t you do tattoos now?”
Now on a topic of interest he was for sure confident in, Jungkook practically jumped in his seat, “Yeah! I do! I’ve only tatted myself and some friends but I hope to work on more people.”
You watched with a smirk as Lisa moved to sit next to Jungkook, her now explaining what she’d like done and Jungkook asking questions about placement, size and color.
You felt sure enough in them to leave them alone, now inhabiting your little corner as you finished your wine while taking in the scene.
Yoongi and Molly stood by the window, and were obviously the most inebriated. He was the type to ramble pointlessly when tipsy, and she giggled at every little thing he said, playfully shoving his shoulder once in a while. You knew for a fact that Yoongi was too deep in his own self-epiphanes to notice her bad flirting, either that or he was just trying to talk to anyone who was willing to listen.
Namjoon and Jennifer were sitting on the couch and talking to Jin, laughing at whatever odd impression he was attempting. Beside them on the loveseat, Hoseok was politely nodding along to small talk from Jimin. Being one of the friendliest and most calming of the group, it made sense that Hoseok was the one trying to make your ex boyfriend feel included.
Content to just watch your guests for a while, you stood by your lonesome and slowly sipped at the remnants of your wine.
Playing host wasn’t exactly your forte, so you were enjoying the little lull while it lasted. Unlike your boyfriend, your social battery tended to max out at the two-hour mark when in group settings.
And as much as you loved the people in your home (with maybe the exception of your ex and his girlfriend), you couldn’t wait for them to get out so you could take a long, hot shower and head to bed.
The stress of the last few days was really tiring you, and you just knew that as soon as the excitement of the showing and sold paintings wore off, Taehyung was going to continue his spat with you about the cameras.
When you and Jimin dated, you two were always on the same page. Fights very rarely happened. And Jimin was such a people pleaser that if literally anything slightly upset you, he would practically fall over himself to make you smile again.
Taehyung was the first boyfriend to genuinely pick a fight with you, being more stubborn than you about matters you didn’t necessarily want to back down from either. Your relationship conflict resolution skills were being tested, and you just didn’t have the patience or experience to keep fighting much longer. You would call a truce or some type of compromise, if it weren’t for the fact that there was no way to really keep both of you happy.
A few minutes passed as you pondered this to yourself.
Seemingly materializing out of nowhere, a mysterious arm wrapped around your waist.
The suddenness of it all caused you to jump and release a very unflattering squeak.
Speak of the devil and he shall appear.
A deep chuckle rumbled beside you, Taehyung smirking lazily before diving face first into your neck and nuzzling it in some sort of drunken stupor.
“Don’t sneak up on me like that!” You groaned, trying to forcefully shove his face away from you. “Where’s the beer you went to fetch?”
Your boyfriend expertly dodged your shove and dove back into your neck, mumbling against the skin something about not being able to find more drinks.
The vibration of his lips on such a sensitive spot made you want to squirm, but his halfhearted mumbles took your attention a bit more.
“No beer? I could’ve sworn-”
“Hey Y/n!” Someone interrupted with a call across the room. You looked up to see Lisa trudging over with a determined look on her face and a fogged up look in her eyes, perhaps a bit more tipsy than you remember leaving her. “Aren’t you going to show me where exactly you saw the ghost?”
Your dear friend most likely thought she was being discreet and having a normal conversation at a perfectly appropriate tone. But no, she was actually speaking way above a conversational volume, causing everyone else in the room to halt their conversations and turn to look at you.
“Ghost?” Jin laughed.
“You saw something in this room?” Hoseok inquired with a trembling voice, most likely regretting having come over. Beside him, Jimin quietly shook his head to himself.
“No way, Y/n doesn’t believe in stuff like that.” Your ex confidently informed the group.
At the sound of your past lover’s voice, you felt Taehyung stiffen beside you. The artist untangled himself from you, standing to his full height and facing the guest with an unknown expression.
“We had a little bit of a ghost problem, but it’s taken care of now.” He paused, and you could nearly hear his smirk when he went on to declare, “I got rid of it.”
Yoongi laughed boisterously, having to hold himself up with the wall to prevent falling over. “I’m sorry, but the image of little Tae boxing a little sheet with two holes for eyes is really sending me.”
Half your guests laughed at the thought. The other more believing half still stared at you inquisitively.
An awkward silence.
“Ghosts are real.” Jennifer started, effortlessly drawing all eyes to her. “I used to live in a haunted house when I was a kid.”
She put her drink down and folded her hands across her lap, suddenly immersed in thought and careful about what she was about to share.
“In my childhood home, there was a garden in the backyard. Almost everyday, at sunset, I’d look out the window and see this lady circling the flowers and humming to herself. After ten minutes or so, she would disappear into thin air. I told my parents but they never believed me.”
She paused, either for dramatic effect or to recollect.
“Until one day, my mom saw her too. And when she went out to confront what she thought was an intruder, the lady disappeared before her eyes. My mom then did some digging about the history of the house and it turns out, the previous owner was outside gardening when she had a heart attack and died.”
A pregnant pause hung in the air as everyone silently digested the anecdote.
“That’s fucking terrifying, please tell me your parents moved houses after that.” Hoseok broke the silence first, pleading with watery eyes.
Namjoon’s wife laughed, reaching for her drink once more. “How is it scary? The lady was just checking on her garden in the afterlife. However, I then grew up really interested in supernatural stuff.” She turned to you. “There’s some tell-tale signs that a home has a spirit attached to it. Cold spots, shadow figures, whispers, scary dreams and the biggest of all: always feeling like you're being watched, even if there’s no one else in the room.”
You quietly thought to yourself. Were there any cold spots in the home? No. Any shadow figures? Nope. Whispers and nightmares? Nada.
But…the last one, being watched when no one is there.
If you really focused on your intuition, you faintly felt that even now amongst all these people, you were being watched by something unknown.
Goosebumps raised on the surface of your arms.
Chills ran down your spine and you shivered, the reaction causing Taehyung to grasp you tighter against him in what was supposed to be comfort.
You felt even more cold.
“We haven’t had any of that. Really guys, it’s taken care of.” Your boyfriend told the room, effectively shutting down the paranormal subject.
You assumed Taehyung felt a bit defensive of his ghost expelling skills, either that or he genuinely wanted another topic of discussion.
You then felt a little bad, it was still his night after all and here you were unintentionally ruining it with your little ghost stories. The focus of the room should be on him and his achievements, not everyone's supernatural beliefs and stories.
“Taehyung is right, it’s all resolved. But I’d like to ask all of you to fill up your glasses one last time, and raise them with me, ” While they did that you quickly scanned the room, “Um, except maybe you, Yoongi. Feel free to sit this one out, bud.” You laughed as the drunk man just grumbled at you, defiantly snatching another beer and holding it high while swaying on his feet.
Hopefully he wasn’t the one driving home.
You cleared your throat, “I'd like to propose a toast to our own Taehyung. Everyone in this room knows it was only a matter of time before your artistic genius was recognized by the world, but that doesn’t make us any less proud than we are of you tonight. To the first of many showings! To Taehyung!”
“To Taehyung!” the room loudly parroted back, everyone thrusting their drinks of choice in the air before knocking them back.
The artist beside you laughed and shook his head, “Really, guys it’s no big deal. Just a few paintings that I’m lucky even got sold. But thanks so much for making it. Most of you-” he snapped a side eye where Jimin sat, “have supported me so much, I’m just happy to have such a great group of friends.”
Said friends all smiled and nodded, although a few caught on to Taehyung’s subliminal dig and warily looked over at your ex.
Jimin pursed a tight smile, clearly trying to be nice and not make it obvious that he was the outsider at the party. You caught his eye and shot him a sorry look, but he shook his head in what was clearly meant to say “don’t worry about it.”
Your boyfriend continued, “However! ‘Friends’ don’t really beat ‘love of my life’. So without getting into all the lewd details of how I plan to spend my night celebrating, I’m going to need you all to start clearing out,” Taehyung smirked. “Y/n is a screamer.”
“Ew!” Lisa shouted, beside her Jungkook was suddenly unable to make eye contact with you.
The older men in the room just cackled. You slapped the artist's chest while trying to hide your blood red face.
Taehyung ducked and mouthed at your ear to whisper, “Sorry baby, but you know it’s true. And don’t act like you don’t want them out sooner rather than later.”
You wanted to be mad, but understood he was tipsy and riding on the high of his showing. So instead you played along and harshly whispered to him, “I doubt you can make me scream tonight. It’s not right to be misleading to your friends.”
He tiled your head to make you face him.
Taehyungs’ left brow twitched in vexation, his lips pulling back in a little growl. He looked around to make sure the guests were distracted with finishing their drinks or saying their goodbyes to each other. When he confirmed no eyes were on you two, he secretly placed his hand at the back of your head, running his long fingers through your hair and stopping right at the ends, to quickly form a fist and pull.
It was just one short tug, but the power of it made you gasp.
You would be lying if you said it didn’t make you a little wet too.
You had no idea where this came from. He never pulled your hair. Your boyfriend wasn’t rough and was one of those really progressive artists types that viewed any kind of manhandling in the bedroom as sort of sexist. But when you peered up at him, with the doe eyes he said he loved so much, and saw the clouded nature of his gaze, you just knew that inebriated Tae was very different from sober Tae.
Black and white, really.
‘I’m in for quite the night’ you thought to yourself while biting your lip, inwardly smug at how Taehyung transparently honed in on the action.
“Um, hey I think I’ll take my leave first.” You looked up to see Jimin awkwardly shifting in front of you two, a blacked out Molly in his hold.
“Oh god! Is she okay?” You exclaimed, noting the poor girl looked dead.
The dancer chuckled, “Yeah, she just gets really hyper when she's drunk then passes out after a bit. Ironically, sleep is all she needs I guess since she always wakes up good as new. No hangover.”
“Here let me show you out. I can help put her in the car.” You offered, already detangling yourself from Taehyung. He made a small sound of protest and made move to hold you tighter.
You placed a hand on his shoulder and consoled him with a smile, “You wanted people to leave, so we should help everyone get home safe. Can you check on Yoongi and maybe see if Namjoon and Jennifer can take him home?”
He looked conflicted, carefully sizing Jimin up through his peripheral. You wanted to roll your eyes. Although tipsy Taehyung was apparently a sexy beast, he was also an immature toddler who needed to be tricked.
You got on your tippy toes to whisper in his ear, “The quicker we get people out, the quicker you get me all to yourself.”
That seemed to convince him as he reluctantly stomped away in the direction of the couple, shooting one more guarded look at the dancer.
With that you led Jimin to the front door, even helping him put Molly’s heels back on before stepping out into the driveway and walking him to his car.
Silently, he opened the car and laid her in the backseat, tucking her in with his jacket. Then he shut the door, but instead of walking around to the driver spot, he turned to you and sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck.
“So….”
“Look, I’m sorry about Taehyung. I didn’t even tell him you were an ex but he’s just been really possessive and weird lately. It’s not just you.” You informed him, hoping to make him feel better.
Jimin just waved it off with a chuckle, “No, I get it. You’re really gorgeous, kind and talented. I also struggled with jealousy when we were together. Can’t really blame him.”
You hoped your blush wasn’t too prominent as you said, “Yeah, but you were always nice to people regardless of feeling possessive. He was just rude. Again, I’m sorry.”
“Well, you can’t really date someone breathtaking if you’re going to be an insecure prick about it.”
You gaped like a fish at the implication you were still breathtaking in Jimin’s eyes. Words were suddenly hard to come by.
It was silent for a moment, the tension between you two as thick as it can possibly get for two past lovers.
“Y/n…why didn’t you tell him we dated?”
“L-Like I said, he’s already been acting jealous and I didn’t want him to focus on that when it was his night. Besides, It’s not like-”
“I broke up with Molly.”
“…What?”
“It happened on the way to your after party, she was upset that I still held a candle for you. And yeah, I couldn’t drag her along when I never felt half of what I felt for you, for her. I just said it without thinking, terrible timing of course. But that’s pretty on brand for me, I suppose.” He attempted a joke.
You smiled politely, although you had no idea how you should feel.
He continued, “I just thought I should say sorry because the reason she was such a drunk and sloppy mess in your home was because I carelessly dumped her on the way there.”
“It’s um, okay Jimin. She wasn’t the only drunken mess tonight. I hope you two manage to stay friends.” You said, then after a beat added, “And that you find what you’re looking for.”
“Listen, I know you're with Taehyung and happy but, I think there was some kind of misunderstanding about our breakup. I’m not trying to be a homewrecker or anything, but can we get a coffee sometime and just…talk?”
You smiled, finding no harm in the offer. “Sure-”
“No.”
You gasped and whipped around to see Taehyung standing behind you, arms crossed and hell in his eyes as he glowered down at Jimin.
How did he get there without being spotted or heard?
It's like he fabricated out of nowhere.
“I suggest you get in your car, leave and never speak to her again.”
Your ex held his hands up in surrender, “Look man, I wasn’t trying anything-”
“What kind of guy goes to their ex when she’s clearly in a happy and healthy relationship, and tries to drudge up the past in the name of closure? Fuck your closure. You lost her, and now I have her. And trust me, she has better things to do than getting coffee with the guy who broke her heart.”
“Please, Taehyung-”
You were cut off.
His voice was the lowest you’ve ever heard it, eyes pitch black and face blank as he calmly finished, “It’s pathetic. You’re pathetic. And if I see you again I’m going to break your kneecaps and skin you alive, you little spineless boy. Run along now. While you still can.”
The threats were so visceral and promising, coupled with a man who looked downright murderous yet somehow calm. As if he had done it before and doing it again would be more so an inconvenience than a whole life-ending ordeal.
In this moment, you didn’t know your own boyfriend and you were terrified with this new persona.
No one moved or spoke, in fear one step or word would make Taehyung good on his promise.
You and Jimin were paralyzed, like two helpless deer in the presence of a blood thirsty wolf, the only hope was to stay still and go unnoticed. You met your ex’s eyes and while he did look afraid, he was focused only on you and your proximity to Taehyung.
Jimin was fearful. Not for himself, but for you.
And while you wanted your ex to run away, you were also scared to be left alone with someone so different from your usual Taehyung.
How could a few drinks and some jealousy cause such a behavior?
“Hey what’s going on here?”
Namjoon and Jennifer were babysitting a toddling Yoongi, the couple was also making way to their vehicle when they spotted the scene. The so-called ‘leader’ of the gang was quick to pick up on Taehyung’s aggressive stance, probably prompting him to get involved.
You felt your body lighten in relief.
Namjoon was always good at calming people down and taking control of situations.
Like a switch was turned on, your boyfriend grinned at the oncomers and nodded over at the dancer. Seemingly happy as a clam he chirped, “Nothing, hyung! Jimin here was just leaving. His poor girlfriend had too much, I think.”
Namjoon didn’t quite believe that, you and Jimin still looked rigid with alarm after all. Nonetheless, he played along for everyone’s sake. “Really? Maybe you should leave now then Jimin, get her in bed as soon as possible. It was nice meeting you.”
Jimin took the hint with grace and wordlessly ducked into his car, not acknowledging anyone else as he mouthed to you “call me”.
He started up the car, then slowly backed out of the driveway, and eventually down the road.
“Dude, are you sure you’re okay? It looked like you wanted to kill him.” Namjoon asked the artist.
Before hearing whatever bullshit was going to spew out of his mouth next, you promptly whipped around and stormed back into the house, making sure to purposefully shoulder-check your boyfriend as hard as you could in the process.
What the fuck was wrong with the bastard?!
Talking as though he was some offender or even a murder, just because your ex wanted to catch up?
You were so dreadfully embarrassed! Jimin must’ve thought you lost your mind after him and went off to date some real weirdos.
If you weren’t already on a lease with the man, this probably would’ve been the part where you blocked him and made it your personal mission to never see him again.
Instead, you busied yourself in the kitchen and washed most of the dirty dishes your guests left behind. You hoped Taehyung was wise enough to leave you alone, if the jerk knew what was good for him.
About 15 minutes had passed, and the kitchen was nearly as spotless as it was before the party had started, thanks to your furious cleaning and scrubbing. The house was now silent, and you were just debating putting all your spices in alphabetical order when you heard a shuffle behind you.
You snapped around and instantly scoffed at the sight.
Taehyung was leaning against the doorframe, hands in his pockets and fixing a sheepish look at you.
“So…that got a little out of hand.”
You barked a disbelieving laugh. “More like you got out of hand, Taehyung. Threatening people like you’re some felon! Wouldn't be a surprise if there’s a rumor spreading about me dating a serial killer now."
“Y/n, I’m sorry. But please let me make it up to you.”
“Make it up to me? Your actions cannot be undone Taehyung! I cooked and cleaned after your friends and tried to make this night special for you. I just wanted you to have a nice night and be nice, and you flip out over a platonic coffee date? Who do you think I am? A slut who will open her legs to any ex who talks to me?!”
“W-what? No- Of course not! Please don’t think-”
“What the hell am I supposed to think, asshole?! Even if Jimin still had feelings for me, it would take me reciprocating them for anything to happen! You clearly don’t trust me, and if that’s the case, then what are we doing here? Should we just become roommates or something?”
A painful struck his face, watery eyes met yours when he choked out, “Do you even hear yourself? Why would I try to fight your ex if I truly didn’t love you? You’re mine, and I love you so much it’s just…I can act a little crazy sometimes.”
You sighed, turning your back on him to lean on the sink in exhaustion.
“I thought you were different from other guys, Tae. That caveman shit is extremely degrading to not only you, but especially me.”
“I’m sorry…it’s just a primal part of me that I can’t turn off. Give me a chance to make it up to you.”
You shot a look over your shoulder at him, still pissed.
He shot his hands up in the air, as if in defense. “You can still be mad at me all you want.”
“You’re sleeping on the couch for a week.”
“Done.”
“And….And you’re forgetting all about those stupid cameras.”
He quirked a grin, unknown mirth dancing in his eyes. “Sure.”
“At the end of the week, you will personally apologize to Jimin via a phone call or letter.”
His smile dropped, your glare sharpened, “Umm..fine okay. It won’t be sincere though.”
You rolled your eyes, “Doesn’t have to be, it’s the right thing to do so you’ll do it.”
“…anything else?”
“Not for now. I’m going to bed soon so if there’s anything you need from the room, get it now.”
He wordlessly turned around, and you then faintly heard him going up the stairs.
Biting your lip in deep thought, you proceed to wipe off the last of the counters.
Could you forgive him? When he was willing to do all that to appease you?
If you were being honest with yourself, you could feel the irritation already start to melt away a bit. You hadn’t expected such a 180 in his stance, he went from threatening Jimin with murder to begrudgingly agreeing to apologize within only a matter of half an hour or so. You thought you would have to at least give him the silent treatment for a bit before you could even bargain a “sorry” for your ex. Taehyung was usually much more stubborn…
Nonetheless though, you were still upset and embarrassed about the scene.
You hated when men got violent around you, it made you feel so unsafe and small. You thought Taehyung was different, him even poking fun at the meatheads who would pull stuff like that at the local bars you would frequent while dating. So what changed?
Footsteps slowly descended back down the stairs, telling you that Taehyung had returned from your bedroom and it was safe to go up.
You left the kitchen, turned off the lights and passed through the hallway. Briefly you stopped, just short of the stairs, to see your boyfriend grumbling to himself while arranging some blankets on the couch.
A sudden and chilling thought ripped from your lips before you could even quietly ponder it.
“Taehyung…how did you know Jimin was my ex?”
He stopped in his tracks, slowly turning to face you with a blank look.
“Uh, Lisa might have slipped up and told me.”
You relaxed, unknowingly releasing a breath you had been holding. “Hmm, okay. We’ll talk tomorrow then. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight baby.”
“Oh! Let me get some water first, can you check that the doors were locked?” You asked while skipping back towards the kitchen. You hated waking up with a dry mouth and always kept a glass of water on your nightstand, restless bathroom trips be damned.
You didn’t hear any response to your request, but you paid it no mind, assuming Tae probably already double, if not triple, checked the locks being the worrywart that he was.
Right next to the kitchen entrance was the basement door, and it was shut.
Yet, something stopped you in your tracks.
The light under the basement door…it was on?
“Well I don’t have any more beer up here. Just wine. There might be some more in the basement, though.”
It couldn’t be….could it?
Your intuition was hollering at you from within.
A force greater than you pulled you to the door handle.
Against yourself, you opened the door to the basement…
And choked back a horrified scream.
At the bottom of the stairs lay Taehyung.
Unconscious, pale and bleeding horrifically from some head wound that was forming an inky pool under his crumpled form.
It wasn’t your Taehyung that returned upstairs.
So...this has been sitting in my drafts for over a year lol. I do have a dramatic ending in mind and some final scenes but yea, I don't think I could finish this unless people actually wanted it so let me know if this is a plot you kinda liked? I never tried flat-out supernatural horror like this. Anyway, happy October guys! Love you all. Luna :)
#yandere bts#yandere taehyung#bts taehyung#kim taehyung#taehyung x reader#bts fic#bts x reader#yandere au#bts#bangtan boys#male yandere#taehyung fanfic#yandere taehyung x reader#kpop fanfic#taehyung fluff#yandere imagines#yandere fanfiction
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I HAVE SO MANY IDEAS FOR REQUEST BUT I DON'T WANNA OVER BEAR YOU SRRYY
What about a teen gn reader who looks average (in term of strength) but could OBLITERATE a ruin guard in like,, one punch
How would the characters react to that???
genshin + weak looking but strong!teen!reader
❥Masterlist
Tags: slight fluff, mention of injuries
Including: Xiao, Dehya, Lyney
word count: 1,203
A/n: Heyyy, guess who's not dead! sorry I haven't been around for like a year or two things for me have gotten busy but things are slowing down for me right now so I'm gonna be focusing more on writing now! I hope you enjoy :D
You had always heard stories of adventurers finding new civilizations, fight cool monsters, and traveling around the world. You were gonna be like one of those strong adventurers and be marked down in the history books. Though your training and honed your skills to your very limit yet your body stayed the same, growing at its normal pace. Sure you could punch through a brick wall but, you also looked as if you spent your days reading inside. But after a while you had come to accept that you would remain average size until you joined the adventures guild.
The adventure’s guild always had interesting commissions, from the mundane to the deadly. You joined looking forward to getting super hard missions where you could explore a abandoned temple and fight the spirt that lives there! Or a commission about a missing person who has been kiddnap by dozens of treasure hoarder and you have to fight your way through them! As Katherine hands you your first commission you read the page telling you to deliver mint to some guy.
You look up at kathrine with a “are you joking” face. She only smiles at you and asks if you have any questions. You insist to kathrine that you are a strong individual and you can handle your own. She shakes her head saying that this is the best commission for your skill level. You went back and fourth with Kathrine about the commission before she gave up and gave you some hillcurl camp to clean up on the west side. Snatching the commission out her hand you rush off to complete it.
It wasn't the intense adventure you hoped for but it was better than nothing. So you head out to the camp and when you get there you spot three hillchurls, easy enough. When you finish off
the last hillchurl you heard the sound of gears churning behind you.
“WATCH OUT!” a mystery voice calls out. Quickly turning around you are faced 13 feet tall ruin guard. It lifts up its giant geared hand attempting to slam it down on you, you dodge out of the way by jumping back. This is the first time you've ever encountered a ruin guard and there was something you wanted to try with it.
Throwing your weapon to the side you take a running start at the ruin guard. You can hear the stranger yell at you to get back when you leap into the air lifting your fist up pull it down right on the machine’s head. It flies back into a rock wall 12 feet away from you. Landing on your feet you watch as the ruins guard light flickers for a second then goes dark. Turning to the mystery person you are met with a look of…
Xiao: Shocked but doesn't care that much
Xiao was patrolling the area around Yaodie Valley when he came across you fighting hillchurls. You had an adventurers guild uniform on but you looked far too weak to be fighting such monster, and at such a young age. But you looked to be holding yourself well so he didn't bother you. Until he saw out of the corner of his eye an old ruin guard started to shuffle and activate.
He yelled at you warning about it but to his surprise, you dropped your weapon and took off running towards it. He was about to intervene when you sent the ruin guard flying into a wall. He stood there for a second spear still out and in his fighting stance but, confused as hell. How did such a weak-looking child punch that machine like it was a stuffed animal.
“Uh, Mr. Adeptus?” You said trying to get the man's attention. “are you okay?” Snapping out of his trance he circles around you checking for wounds, none were found except for some red on the fist. And without any word he disappears.
Dehya: Worried but Amazed
While traveling to meet her newest client she stumbles on you collecting stuff off the ground while a ruin guard towers over you. You looked no older than 18 and even tho you had a weapon didnt look like you could fight. She shouts a you watch out and unsheft her claymore. As she is running towards you she sees you turn around send the metal heap flying into a stone wall with a singular punch. Stopping her in her track Dehya looks at the scene before her with her mouth agape.
“Hey kid!” she yells at you. “Are you okay?!” She began checking your body for injuries. That was quite a punch but she needed to check that you didnt break anything from that.
“If i move your fingers like this do they hurt?!” She asked while bending your fingers slightly upwards.
“No ma’ma,” you resond
“I've just never seen someone knock out a ruin guard with one punch! How did you even do that without break your hand?”
“I drink a lot of milk.”
Lyney: Excitement
Today was a day Lyney had all to him self, much to his dismay. Lynette was off on a solo mission and Freminet teaching some of their siblings how to dive. Lyney would have joined but those lessons were too slow paced for him and he'd end up getting board and leaving the group behind.
So now he was outside of the city walls looking for something that could entertain him. When he saw the slashing of a weapon out the corner of his eye and turned to see a teenager fighting a couple hillchurls. They looked skilled enough to take on a couple monsters but, defiantly not strong physically.
He was about to head out and look for something more interesting when he heard the gears of a ruin guard turn. He spun around to see you face to face with one of these machines. He saw you jump back nearly missing the hand crushing coming down on you. As he got out his bow to shoot the thing down he stopped himself as he saw you run and jump off a rock and landing a punch on top of its head sending it flying backward.
You turned to face him and his bow was still in his hand with a shit eating grin on his face.
"My archons that was amazing!" He exclaimed while throwing his hands up and trotted right up too you. "How did you manage to do that?" He was lifting your arms up and down like he was trying to find something to tell him how you knock the guard out in one punch. "Or is it just raw strength... Punch me."
"What?" He said that as if it was just a normal request.
"Punch me right here in the stomach, I wanna see something."
"Sir I just knocked out a whole monster and now you want me to punch you?"
"Yes, I don't know what's so hard to understand. you can take down an ancient machine with one punch but you look so... normal!" Rude. "I don't mean that in a bad way but I want to see how this is possible." for the rest of the day he spent it with you testing out your strength on different things. He should have more days to himself if it's gonna be like this one!
Requests are now open again :D
#genshin impact#genshin x teen reader#genshin impact x reader#genshin x gn reader#platonic genshin x reader#teen reader#gn reader#gender neutral reader#xiao#xiao x reader#dehya#dehya x reader#lyney#lyney x reader#genshin x child reader#child reader
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i don’t wanna keep secrets just to keep you (and i)
summary: dating tip? just don't. for celebrities, romantic relationships are absolutely forbidden. the slightest hint of one could ruin your career. but are you even listening to the lecture? doubt it, 'cause you're doing the complete opposite. (alternatively, a celebrity au featuring secret relationships.)
→ featuring: childe, & ayato (you can really tell who my faves are)
→ warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, slight cursing, established relationship, mentions of alcohol and drinking, tension, actual cursing, unreliable reader pov, gender-neutral reader (i apologize if i missed things, i haven't proofread it yet)
→ a/n: so, hi! long time no see? i was pretty stressed with college and well, i'm back! i began writing this last year and finally got the courage to finish it. but here it is and i hope you enjoy it :> please let me know if you like it <3 it really makes my day!
credits to @dumplingsjinson for the prompts!
beware, lengthy post ahead! more under the cut!
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the debut.
“forbidden?” you repeat.
“absolutely forbidden!” your manager says. “a rookie with no fanbase? a scandal will ruin your reputation! you're absolutely forbidden from dating anyone.”
you sigh. he's being too overdramatic.
you will never be in a relationship, you're absolutely sure. how can you? with no time for yourself as it is, dating someone with the limited hours you already have sounds impractical.
besides, you're too busy training and practicing for auditions.
remembering it now, you want to laugh.
i told you so, your thoughts chastise.
god, you should've listened.
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childe, the actor
“that's a wrap!” the director cheers.
your eyes glisten as you hold back tears. it's embarrassing, you think. so damn embarrassing.
you've been repeating the same kissing scene multiple times now. obviously, the director cheers for finally completing the take and not because you did a good job.
childe pats your back. “you did great,” he says, with a smile.
but you know the gesture so goddamn well. the same nonchalant cold grin he throws at everyone that he now directs at you? oh, he's angry alright.
for what reason? who knows. you're too busy wallowing in self-despair over how terrible your acting is.
the scene is supposedly simple. it involves the second lead, who happens to be you, confessing their love to the leading man, resulting to a spontaneous kiss.
yet, you're fumbling over the lines, acting so out of character, tripping over set, incorrectly initiating the kiss at awkward angles—the whole time-wasting squander.
“what's going on?” childe eventually asks, once he arrives at your shared apartment. his bag drops to the floor with a flop. “you're acting strange. the entire crew sees it, i see it, the director sees it—what if he decides to fire you? what will you do then?”
you swallow dryly. you left the set early hoping childe's hectic schedule prompted him to forget the whole issue. yet, here he is finally bringing up the conversation after what feels like a month's worth of tension.
as you sit on the sofa chair, your fingers massage the bridge of your nose. breathe in, breathe out. you repeat. don't cry. you try to calm yourself down as a sob tries to break through.
eight months, you've been a couple.
but, there are some things you're afraid to say.
each year, the biggest tabloid newspaper in the country releases an article on celebrity dating scandals. a month ago they released one single page article about a popular actor dating a newbie actress. it barely had any juicy details, just a simple paragraph of a somebody dating a nobody.
yet, it did not end well for them. and you're terrified; for when it could happen to you.
you imagine it. dozens of messages and multiple missed phone calls on your cell as your name becomes the next talk of the town. the headline reads: revealed! a nobody actress, the second-lead from the northland bank saga currently dates the nation's boyfriend, childe!
it terrifies you. you could lose your job. lose what you love doing the most. and you could get tossed aside like an old sweater under someone's bed, left to rot and decompose.
so, yes. you hesitated earlier at set because you don't want anyone to connect the dots. to look at the kiss between you two and notice something amiss. to speculate that there's more to your relationship than what meets the eye. to realize you look at him as more than a co-star. to see how much you're in love with him. to realize the both of you are dating.
“it's not easy.” you say, releasing a sigh.
two years you've been in the business. rookies barely get any roles as it is. being in a well-received rendition of an old romance drama is a once in a blue moon opportunity and you can't risk someone finding out about your relationship.
“camera shy? no—you've kissed heaps of actors for that school drama.”
you mumble, “two people aren't heaps of actors, tartaglia.”
“then what is the problem?”
childe saunters to where you sit. he leans towards you and presses his palm on the head of the sofa, trapping your body between his and the chair. childe's eyes meet yours and you instantly look away.
he knows you well enough to comprehend that look on your face. the way you hide your clammy hands behind you, the manner of your eyes staring only at your feet, how your body tucks itself into the corner of the seat.
“me?” childe whispers.
he places a hand under your jaw. his thumb softly pushes your chin upwards so your eyes meet his.
“why?” he pleads.
“you won't understand.”
“i will if you tell me,” he says, holding your gaze. seeing how you relentlessly persist on keeping your mouth shut, he shakes his head. “oh, please tell me.”
you hesitate. you tell him and then what?
you could say: hey, childe! i'm afraid of our relationship being discovered. i'll be hated by your fans. you'll be constantly drained by my crying and whining. your reputation would take a hit regardless of how popular you are and—and then he'll finally realize how exhausting and annoying it is being with you.
your self-deprecation loves to pull you deeper into its sapping embrace. you're nothing, it mouths. childe would dump you and find some other actor or actress to date. god. it would be so easy. with his popularity, good looks, and charming personality, he'd find a better and talented rising-star the moment he chucks you out the front door.
so, you shake your head firmly.
“tell me, please.” he whispers.
you cross your arms, and look away.
“are you sick?”
you shake your head.
“somebody hurting you on set?”
again, you shake your head.
childe pauses, “...do you have feelings for someone else?”
“no!”
“then what is the damn problem?”
“nothing!” you exasperate, furrowing your brows together.
childe takes your reluctance as distrust and it ignites his irritation. do you not trust him? is he that insignificant to you? what are you hiding? hell, did you fall for the main lead of the show, zhongli? or do you not love him anymore? god, he can feel himself suffocate in resentment.
is he so unimportant that you'd prefer to keep the problem to yourself? it makes his blood boil; how he'd do anything for you, but you'd rather keep it to yourself and suffer alone.
“tell me.” childe scowls as he watches your lips quiver.
you keep your mouth firmly shut.
“fine, hold your tongue.” he sneers, “i understand. i really do, baby. it's not about the cameras, the flashing lights, the audience.”
childe brushes his lips against yours, “you wouldn’t kiss me like that in public, though, would you?” he releases his hold on your chin and his sharp eyes meet yours. “it’s only behind closed doors when you care to act like we’re each other’s.”
with a hooded jacket in one hand and a face mask in another, childe swiftly leaves the apartment with a slam of a door.
leaving you alone with your wretched thoughts.
more under the cut!
despite walking out the flat hours ago, childe still reverberates jealousy and anger; pure envy at how normal you act around everyone else yet, around him you're too guarded; and angry at himself for saying those awful words to your face.
he smacks his forehead on the steering wheel. childe acknowledges how childish he's been acting. you aren't ready to talk, and he shouldn't be forcing you to speak out your difficulties.
surely, the stress is piling up on you. he knows the hours you've been working on set, memorizing lines, practicing moves—again, he thumps his head on the wheel.
stupid, he curses. control your damn temper next time.
he reaches for the box of blueberry cheesecake on the front passenger seat. subconsciously, he drove two hours (and back) to the bakery's main branch as its side branches were sold out of your favorite cake. and he knows how much you love the pastry.
however, his body slouches in the parked car outside the apartment. the long drive works miracles with his anger, but the courage to actually walk inside and apologize never comes.
the ding of a text draws his attention. ‘go inside and beg for forgiveness, brat.’ yoimiya, a fellow actress from the same company as him, says. the woman is always in the loop and well-informed.
a shiver goes down his spine. if you told yoimiya about the argument, he's absolutely sure you're furious. you'd only speak to her as a last-ditch effort; knowing her personality she'd pummel him to bits while you watch.
as a result, he stands inside the apartment, one hand knocking on your bedroom door. however, instead of tasting blood, he hears your stifled sobs. the abrupt sound convinces him to turn the knob and enter the room.
the illumination from the hallway brightens the bedroom, shining a bit of light on your face. you lay on the bed with your knees to your chest, with a blanket over your waist. your reddened cheeks and tear-stained eyes makes his stomach churn.
“please don't cry, baby.” childe cooes, kneeling by your bedside. he leans over you, his fingers gently grip your cheeks. “i'm so sorry.”
the sudden apology sprouts pools from your eyes. his thumbs brush the water off your face and softly says, “i shouldn't have said—please, don't cry. it's my fault for taking my anger out on you.”
“i'm afraid of losing you,” you whimper. “if they find out—oh god—they'll tear me apart. i'm nothing compared to you. i'd lose everything. i might even lose you—”
“never, i will never leave you. no matter what happens,” childe interjects.
you furrow your brows, sobbing. “i'm no one—too difficult,” you hiccup. “you'll throw me away. i'm too whiny and too draining. if they find out... you'll see all the comments about how ugly—”
“breathe, baby.” he settles himself on your bed and softly places you on his lap. “you're gorgeous. you're not draining, and frankly, you're cute when you whine.”
you bury your face into his neck and continue, “i'm serious, childe. you'll get exhausted. the articles will talk about you too!”
“articles, mhm. they're just articles.” he hums.
irritation begins to set in. was he this clueless? you release another sob, “they're not just articles. they'll nitpick every single thing you do! oh—look at this newbie getting together with childe. oh, they suck at acting! why is childe even—”
childe gently places his palm on your neck, coaxing you to meet his gaze. “are you talking about the tabloid from last month?”
you sigh, “what else am i talking about?” and instantly you sense his laughter resonate. “are you laughing?”
“you're adorable, baby.” he breathes, nuzzling his face on your neck.
“you're making fun of me! what the hell, childe?”
he releases a sigh, pausing his laughter. “the tabloids every month. they're paid. companies pay them to talk about their idols for publicity.”
your face contorts into confusion, “who would willingly—they talked about lumine all month because of the article! you know she's my favorite actress. why would they willingly put her on the spotlight like that?”
“publicity, baby.”
you shake your head, “it makes no sense.”
“oh, it does.” childe hums. “of course, they'd seek permission first. it boosted views for her drama, didn't it? lumine did say she got extra for the views and switched apartments.”
“yeah, wait—you knew this whole time and didn't bother to tell me?”
he chuckles, “that's what you get for keeping these things to yourself for a month.” he squeezes the bridge of your nose.
“you're terrible.”
“love you too, baby.” he teases, “and besides, if a tabloid threatened to do something—” his thumb gently traces the skin around your neck. “—i'll keep you safe.”
a soft smile graces your features. “...i'm just not ready for anyone to find out. yet, anyway.”
childe hums, “we'll do it on your terms, okay? whenever you're ready.”
“sure, i guess you can keep me for a while longer. until you throw me away and find the next rookie to—”
childe's soft laughter sparks a flutter in your stomach. he would never do such a thing. the moment he first laid his eyes on you on set, heard your beautiful laugh between takes, listened to your jokes while practicing lines, and god, seen your angelic smile? the things he would do to keep you as his.
“never.” a cheeky grin appears on his lips, “i'll take care of you.”
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bonus: five years later
your phone rings. the vibration continues on and off, signaling multiple inbox messages. you swipe your phone to see texts from several of your close friends.
‘i know you told me you were okay with it, but i didn't think he'd try to do it so soon. i tried but he's too hardheaded.’ says yoimiya.
‘congratulations! when's the wedding? i'm kidding. don't kill childe.’ says thoma, an actor from your same company.
‘sorrows, sorrows, prayers.’ says venti, your current co-star.
you even receive a message from childe himself.
‘good morning, baby. i'm completely fault-free. simply honoring your wishes as a devoted fiancé should.’
attached to a message was a link to a video entitled: please don't kill me honey.
you click the link.
the video's blurry, as if taken by a cellphone. you recognize thoma as the person videoing the whole scene, as he turns the camera to face him before focusing it on a woman—seemingly a fan of childe. she wears merch from his most recent drama.
a fan goes on stage chosen by a random lottery draw. the said fan wins the chance to interview childe, who was the guest of the day for talk show, and ask one question.
the girl hastily walks on stage, holding a microphone given by staff.
“um. hello, childe!”
the audience screams as the huge video screen focuses on your lover's face. he waves a quick ‘hello’ and the crowd yells louder.
the girl hesitates, “are you dating anyone right now?”
childe twists the microphone in his hands. “hm? right now... i'm not dating anyone.”
the crows sighs in relief, utterly happy their favorite leading actor continues to be single.
but you see the outline of a smirk flashing on his face, and you instantly know there's a deeper meaning to that sentence. “but, it's difficult to say... since we're not really dating as of the moment.”
quietly, you hear the voice of yoimiya whispering, “don't do it.” the camera now focusing on her, trying to get herself on stage. thoma flips the camera around to face it on himself, waving a hello, apparently enjoying the drama. he then focuses the camera on the wide screen, featuring childe's face.
to add mayhem into the mix, childe continues, “i don't think being engaged to your partner falls under dating. we're way past that.”
the interview ends with the audience screaming their lungs out in disbelief, while childe's laugh resonates the whole auditorium.
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ayato, company director
“oh, them?” ayato's steady gaze meet yours, pressing his lips in a tight-lipped smile. “they're a friend of mine.”
friend. it echoes in your mind, repeating incessantly. friend. friend. friend.
dread creeps into the pit of your stomach akin to a quick flick of a lighter. after all this time, your stomach lurches. is that all he thinks of you?
god, you need a drink.
the businessmen before you smile, prompting you to return the favor. subsequently, you humbly introduce yourself as just an ‘actor in the industry’. and they laugh. of course they do.
who wouldn't know you? a multi award-winning movie and television star with piles of nominations. so modest, they say. so kind, they praise. you grin, the smile not reaching your eyes, thanking them for their compliments.
but you're so accustomed to their fake smiles, ingenuine flattery, and sweet talk; you never truly know what's actually honest and real—eyes flickering to your azure-haired partner—no, who's honest and real.
you swallow the thought down.
as if aware of the invisible daggers thrown his way, ayato's gaze meets yours. his lips are pressed firmly together, eyes devoid of warmth.
not now, his expression conveys.
you narrow your own eyes, irritation burning through your corneas. as much as you want to start an argument in front of his investors, you agree to his silent insistence. after all it's his gala; one he's tirelessly prepared for over several months.
so you bite your tongue and smile: one honed by years of acting—fake yet strangely genuine.
it's not strong enough. you say, sipping wine with shaky hands. earlier, you left ayato to his fellow businessmen using the excuse of needing a bathroom break, a reason to which he obliged.
you stare at the elaborate party before you, wishing you could go home. the gala swiftly dissolved your social battery, aided by forced mingling and bitterness. a friend, your consciousness repeats. always a friend. so you sit on a chair by the wall, sipping drinks like water.
suddenly, the hairs of your neck stand on end. you sense his presence behind you, prompting a glance through your peripheral vision.
“careful, darling.” ayato's says, tone smooth yet laced with warning. “i'd rather not have you collapsing. your lovely face wouldn't compliment these filthy floors.”
you tense immediately, shoulders stiffening. “reverting back to pet names, i see?”
ayato's hand now rests on your shoulder, his thumb brushing your soft skin. “what seems to be the issue? i doubt it's due to the eight glasses of wine you've consumed in one sitting.”
you roll your tongue in your mouth, practicing the words. let's break up. you bite your tongue. let's see other people. besides, he wouldn't care would he? it's not as if he's been acknowledging you as someone he's been dating, has he? hiding your relationship from his business partners is one thing, but concealing it from closest friends? his family? that's an entirely different matter altogether.
a friend, he says to his business partners.
a star from the company, he answers to his closest friends.
a companion, he whispers to his family.
you're sick and tired of it. all of it.
raising the wineglass to your lips, you drown the drink in one go. you raise two fingers signaling the waiter for another drink.
ayato sighs and you think you feel his hand on your neck tighten, ever so slightly. “you've reached your limit with wine, dear.”
soon, the waiter arrives with three more glasses on his tray. ayato's disapproving glare compels the waiter to scurry across the ballroom floor, steering clear of you.
you click your tongue and begin, “who says so?”
“your fiancé,” he mutters, voice dripping with venom.
you immediately scoff. “sure. for your sake, i'll pretend you mentioned that earlier.”
before ayato could retort, the presence of another individual calls his attention; his younger sister, ayaka.
“brother, the sangonomiya heir's requesting your presence.”
he sighs, irritation etching his features. yet, you blink, catching a subtle shift in his expression—seemingly twisting from annoyance to something resembling relief at the mention of sangonomiya's name.
you swallow the bitter thought.
“watch them for me, could you? i'd rather not have them find a server willing to disobey my instructions and serve them a drink,” ayato whispers, his tone betraying a hint of tension that doesn't go unnoticed.
ayaka nods. her consent prompts the older brother to depart, heading towards the misty rose-pink heir who stands at the opposite side of the ballroom.
ayaka says the inevitable, “you should let him know it bothers you.”
“...i'm not sure what you're referring to.”
her gaze follows yours, observing the giggling and cheerful countenances of the kamisato and sangonomiya heirs. they seem to be enjoying their time together. as always, you remark.
“they're just close friends, you know.”
you click your tongue. “like how him and i are just friends?”
ayaka sighs, understanding your implication. “you know what i mean.”
sangonomiya's hand on your partner's shoulder elicits an exasperated sigh from you. “thoma told me they were to be married if i wasn't here.”
“the man always running his mouth—” she takes a calming breath before continuing, “—but brother's very fond of you. i'm his sister, i should know.”
“then how come after dating him for five years, he still calls me his friend.” you pause, a hand sliding into the right pocket of your outfit. you absentmindedly play with the engagement ring inside. “i'm his fiancé, aren't i?”
“he has his reasons. petty reasons.”
you bite your tongue. or he's embarrassed of you.
you met the kamisato company heir two years after your debut as an idol. as you shifted towards acting, you developed a close relationship with his sister, a seasoned actress from the same company. eventually, she became the bridge that strengthened the bond between the two of you.
you dedicated yourself nonstop, evolving from a rookie actor to a multiple-nominee and winning star; all in the pursuit of being able to openly show off your relationship with ayato without it tarnishing your reputation.
however, when you're prepared to finally reveal your relationship, he isn't.
and it leaves you wondering, is there someone else?
you mean, you're hesitant to doubt the love of your life. but considering he's kept your relationship a secret from everyone for years, it's obvious he's adept at keeping things hidden.
even from you.
and the thought sours your mood.
excusing yourself once more to use the restroom, using the premise of consuming ten glasses of wine, you bid adieu to your favorite kamisato (at the moment). you instead head towards a secluded balcony away from prying eyes.
you stare at the garden below. your eyes quickly blink back the tears threatening to fall. not now, you hiss. don't do this to me, not right now.
“i assumed you would have retreated to your room by this point.” his voice murmurs, unnervingly composed.
you turn around to see your partner holding a glass of wine. his features remain blank, inscrutable.
maybe it's because of all the wine you've been drinking. you can't seem to tell between what's real or not.
“what did you discuss with kokomi?”
“i wasn't aware you were both on a first name basis.”
“answer the question.”
he smiles, “business as always.”
you huff and wrap your hands around your arms. “of course. just business.”
ayato immediately picks up the anger in your tone. he lays his palm on your forearm, gently pulling you towards him. “look at me,” he pleads, with a subtle trace of irritation in his voice.
you turn to look at his face, eyes glaring.
“i felt your glares the entire night.” he begins.
you shrug, smiling innocently. “...what ever do you mean?”
“don't toy with me, darling.”
as he enunciates his answer, it's as if the final thread of your patience snaps. does he still continue to feign innocence and lie to your face?
last month he proposed and you were overjoyed. you then expected a shift in your relationship; the final unveiling of your engagement to the public. you gave him your permission, a definitive “i'm ready for everyone to know.”
yet thirty days later the engagement remains concealed leaving only a few of his friends (thoma) and a few family members (ayaka) knowing about your updated relationship.
if it was the ayato from two years ago, he would be delighted—ecstatic even—to reveal the truth. he might have used the gala today as an avenue to scream to the world, this person and i are in love.
but he didn't.
so the weight of your feelings began to drag you down; it almost feels suffocating in a way. as if a ribbon labeled, he's ashamed, tightly winds around your insides, intricately tying them all together into a sophisticated bow sowing distrust whispering; he's hiding something.
your suspicions, coupled with his frequent visits this month to the sangonomiya estate, fueled your frustration until it erupted. if only he ceased pretending innocent, perhaps you would able to smile through the whole facade.
if only he didn't ask.
“i'm not naive. if you developed feelings for kokomi then you shouldn't have proposed.” you snap. “was it out of pity? did you feel so damn guilty that you chose to go through with the engagement instead of being honest about your feelings?”
ayato furrows his brows, mouth tightening in anger. “what are you talking about? i discuss private affairs with kokomi. business affairs.”
you laugh; one infused with irritation and disbelief. “don't tell me then. keep your stupid secrets.”
“do you want me to jot down a damn list detailing every single thing i do in a day?” he growls. “i won't divulge company secrets just because you feel like throwing a tantrum.”
your hands drift to the tie around his neck, tugging the crooked tie straight. “no. go ahead and keep your secrets.” you pause and roll the words with your tongue, “you're clearly very good at keeping secrets. you’ve kept me—us—as a secret for so long, so of course you’d be good at keeping fucking secrets.”
anger flares across his face. “you desired our relationship to remain a secret, and i respected your wishes.” he sneers, “i wanted to let the damn world know how much i'm in love with you yet, it was the opposite of what you desired.”
ayato releases his grip on you and strides back into the ballroom, but he halts right at the door to the balcony. “so don't dictate when i should reveal the truth simply because you've grown sick and tired of keeping me as your dirty, little secret.”
he finally departs; and you stay, tears pooling, with a profound ache in your heart.
ayato waltzes around the room in a nonchalant dance; yes, good to see you. he lies. how's business? he couldn't care less. enjoy the party! no, he wants everyone in the damn room to feel his wrath.
although he yearns to set the entire ballroom ablaze, ending the party prematurely would be ill-manned of him. so, ayato continues being a gracious and honorable host.
but he feels hollow. he envisions himself freezing the entire room in an icy gust, everyone turning into statues. he wants to sprint back into your arms and plead for you to listen.
he doesn't understand what came over him. why he lost his temper like that. typically, he'd manage your outbursts with composure and understanding. what happened? he doesn't know.
he attributes his outburst to the mounting pressure. the chronic lack of sleep and continuous exhaustion coming from his title as heir. perhaps it's the truth gnawing his skin; despite his powerful position atop the company, it can easily be ripped away with the flick of a wrist.
instead of spending time with his fiancé—he doesn't know if he still deserves to call you that, you probably threw away his ring the second he left the balcony—yet here he is, engaged in conversations with business associates he cares little about.
“brother?” ayaka calls. she finds him leaning against a railing of stairs. “i closed off the gardens.”
ayato swallows. he last saw you sneaking towards the grounds. “they're still on the grass?”
“yes.”
“they'll catch a cold.”
“they will.”
he glances at his sister. “they think i'm unfaithful.”
“i know,” she says matter-of-factly. “have you offered them any evidence to convince them otherwise?”
ayato stays silent.
“i know you care about them, brother.” ayaka sighs, “however, surprising them with a specially crafted ring and being petty when your entire relationship is at stake may not be the wisest move.”
he sighs.
“most especially if they suspect that your frequent visits to the sangonomiya manor are fueled by romantic feelings for its heiress, and not for their own wedding ring.”
after a while, ayato spots you lying on the grass in a starfish formation, having finally swallowed his pride. his eyes glaze over your features: red eyes, cheeks marked with tear stains, and an exhausted expression.
“can we talk?” he begins.
you spare a quick glance before turning your attention back to the night sky. “there's not much to talk about.”
“i'm not cheating,” he asserts.
“i know.”
“do you know, or have you resigned yourself to not knowing?”
“hm,” you hum. “a part of me entertains the thought of you cheating. yet an even smaller part absolutely knows that if you were truly cheating, you'd be more discreet. who, in their right mind, would inform thoma that you visited her manor?”
he chuckles, a laughter-less sound escapes him. “i understand i've been secretive. you have every right to assume i'm up to something indecent. but i have my reasons.” ayato confesses, kneeling beside your body. he places his hand inside his suit pocket, pulling up a black small box.
you instantly sit up. “you're horrible,” you cough, eyes widening as he opens the box to show a ring. “this entire time you were—god.”
“i placed a special order,” he mumbles. “i visited each day to ensure it was flawless, right down to the smallest details.”
“i'm so sorry.”
“don't be, love.” he breathes, “you had your reasons, and i was insistent on keeping it a surprise.”
relief floods your features. “good,” you whisper before tears well in your eyes.
the sound of your sobs breaks his heart. he immediately wraps his arms around you, brushing his lips on your cheeks.
“i'm sorry, darling,” he murmurs, kissing the skin above your brow. “i'm sorry for worrying you.”
“goddamn sadistic,” you sob. “you knew i was freaking out, but you just watched!”
he grins, “i have to admit, you look cute when you're jealous.”
a groan escapes you. “don't make me throw away both rings.”
“is that so? i should've ordered twenty spares.”
“no.” you scold.
“oh? look at my darling, so jealous,” he smirks, nuzzling his face into your neck. you then feel his lips press into a straight line. “you're not something i would ever try to hide. i would never be ashamed of our relationship.”
you laugh, “prove it.”
your smile faces seeing the smirk on his face. in that exact moment, you know that kamisato ayato, the preposterous god in human flesh, plans to do something grand and explosive to prove you otherwise.
“do not.” you begin, “we've talked about this. you cannot—you absolutely will not bribe the government to declare our wedding date as a national holiday!”
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bonus: ten minutes before the clash
“is it getting warm in here, or am i sensing the intense gaze of your loving fiancé on me?” kokomi laughs, sipping a glass of champagne.
ayato takes a peek, and he chuckles upon seeing your irritated and jealous expression. “they certainly are.”
“please do not involve me in your lovers' quarrels. everyone knows we're just close friends.”
“they do.”
“have you told them?”
“...it may have slipped past my mind.”
kokomi shakes her head. “sadistic.” she slips a black box into his palm. “clear it up. i do not want to be murdered by your future partner.”
ayato glances at you from across the room as you engage a conversation with his sister. “mhm, i could, but their jealous expression is too endearing.”
“sadistic,” she repeats. “absolutely sadistic.”
he chuckles.
“also, kazuha mentioned that you've been referring to them as your companion. correct that.” she continues, “and stop calling them your friend!”
“they asked me to when we started dating.”
she rolls her eyes. “you're so petty. stop trying to provoke them!”
“anyways, everyone knows we're engaged,” he corrects. “their whining face is the cutest.”
“sadistic.”
“kokomi?”
she tilts her head and hums, “yes?”
“ever wondered how much it costs to propose a national holiday?”
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author’s note: lmao. so in this modern au ayato actually succeeds in turning your wedding date into a national holiday. the government actually appreciates his donation because a.) they always accept goodwilled (lmao) funds and b.) ayato's an important pillar to the gov and they don't want to upset him 'cause petty rich boy tantrums tilt the economy (how sadistic).
so, ayato's the heir of the company where you are employed at as an idol turned actor/actress. kokomi is the heiress to a big jewelry corporation. lmao they were both engaged together when they were like five but they instantly broke it off because well, they both threw five year old tantrums.
plus thoma telling you that they were to be engaged was just a fact he blurted out when you asked about kokomi (he manages to omit the five-year-old part because he's careless + he didn't think it matters because anyone can tell ayato's intensely in love with you)
#genshin x you#genshin x reader#genshin impact x gender neutral reader#genshin imagines#genshin impact x reader#tartaglia x reader#childe x you#childe x reader#ayato x reader#kamisato ayato x reader#ayato x you#genshin x gender neutral reader#genshin headcannons#genshin angst#genshin hurt/comfort#kamisato ayato#childe#tartaglia x you
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The Bet (Hawks' Version)
((Banner by me!! I don't own Horikoshi's works/characters))
Pairing: Hawks x reader (fem!reader)
Words: 7k //good grief//
Rating: M | 18+ (put down the spicy chicken bucket, baby birds)
Warnings: NSFW, foreplay confessions, DTR, first time, piv smut, porn w feelings, flirting, kissing galore, biting & marking, vocal Hawks is vocal, wrap it up this is fantasy
Summary:
You turn the tables on Hawks' games -the ones he insists are crafted with you alone in mind. You've benefited from his tokens and gestures for long enough, and plan one of your own. You'd think he'd be happier to see you strut around in it once you're home and 'Keigo' can enjoy it all to himself… but once your heels come off in the doorway of your apartment, he makes one thing clear: he'd rather take it off. He’d damn near tear it off you with the promise to buy you a dozen dresses just like it, if you didn’t make such a sweet appeal to 'get comfortable' together~
A/N: as promised, part 2 has arrived!! Missed Part 1? Not required, but makes it a bit sweeter, IMO, so catch up if you'd like~
For my My Hero Academia Masterlist, check it out here!
Read on Ao3
Three months since your shopping excursion, you turned the tables on Hawks and placed a one-sided bet yourself. It was a harmless game, just as his had been from the start.
You’d watched him pace on the edge of a building by happenstance, noting how he walked the teetery edge like a tightrope against the harsh wind. He's incredibly athletic -that point, you never doubted- but surely he couldn't make it clear across the edge without tripping off to the side…
His wings would pitch in at any sign of a fall, but you made the sneaky bet that even their offset couldn’t keep him upright the whole way.
…but he did~ graceful and with a little personal stroke of pride as he batted his feathers back onto the roof of the building when he reached the rain gutter at the end. So cute, he even marked himself ‘safe’ like in baseball as he accomplished his goal while waiting for his intern to arrive.
From the ground below, you couldn't believe how such a man had caught your eye- one as flashy as he was. Normally you'd have veered far away from big personalities like that… but look at this kid, here.
He's taking names of bad guys across the country and raking in hundreds of thousands of dollars in promotional money alone (much of it funneling secretly to charities, you came to learn), but here he is entertaining himself: like the child he is at heart.
… That little show earned Keigo a text.
From your cell, you sent a far off video snippet of your dashing Pro-Hero traipsing around, with the overlaid caption:
You win, pretty bird ♥️ Made it across, and didn't tip over once! Still want that dinner?
Just your luck, Hawks pulled out his phone in real time after you sent the message.
He's swiping, he's shielding it against the glare of the sun to read, and– yup, now he's jumping. And hollering for the whole wide world to hear, if they were only paying attention to the punk on the roof across the street.
You giggled to yourself, shaking your head. What were you gonna do with him?
That question was easy to answer; you know exactly what you'd be doing and wearing.
Hawks will be granted his wish after losing that first bet after all, with you completing the perfect night out in that stunning red dress.
Sake-soaked words, a lovely meal, and a thousand endearing stares later, you two are seated on the way back to your place courtesy one of Hawks’ longtime drivers employed from his agency- where he could unabashedly makeout with you in the backseat. He's come through with enough personal favors with the hero to take him on harmless outings without snitching: movies, the rare sportsball game… dates, you ask him, but Hawks assures you this is the first time fairer company has joined him for a ride.
Mindful as you are, you’re careful not to make too much noise, though Hawks says his valet hates him just as much as yours does.
‘Some people just don’t see the appeal, and can't handle me~’ he’ll goad, but you still make a pitiful attempt to make him behave in mixed company.
Hard to do, when you're backed up against the seat of the car with an adoring angel of a man testing the limits of his seatbelt to a ridiculous degree-all for the simple plea to hold you closer:
How he can't wait another minute. How good you look. How really good you look.
It doesn’t help the Hero’s impatience when you’ve draped your legs across his lap, exposing the thigh where your dress cuts open. Hawks has a handful of it the entire way home, content to massage and fondle any inch of you he can get.
After several months of teasing that this thing has been in the back of your closet, you'd think he'd be happier to see you strut around in it… but once your heels come off in the doorway of your apartment, Hawks makes it clear: he'd rather take it off. He’d damn near tear it off you with the promise to buy you a dozen dresses just like it, if you didn’t make such a sweet appeal to dress down and get comfortable together~
Obviously, Hawks sees no need for wearing night clothes to bed with what you tease in his ear. Though you laugh nervously about that very fact the whole way to your bedroom, to your walk-in closet where he unzips you fully: and to now as you’re slung over his shoulder wrapped up like a cigar in the towels you’d grabbed for your inevitable shower together...
You wonder what he'd done that for when you just planned to toss them into your ensuite bathroom– only to realize he wanted to unwrap you himself. He’s in full playtime mode, and that makes you hysterical as he whistles along to your bedroom despite your squirming.
"Keigo!!" you mind your volume a second too late, muting your giggles, "Keigo, what in the hell do you think you're up to?"
"Getting you to bed-- what's it look like I'm doing?" your Pro-Hero rumbles as he drops you gracelessly on the mattress. Off-hours Keigo was fun- and a welcome sight after his long-awaited return from Tokyo.
No longer the apartment he simply drops you off after nights like this spent out on the town: he spends a few nights a week here. The home where he can snuggle in and shut out the roar of nightlife more than his solo apartment.
Though till now, you’ve not traipsed this close to the edge of the intimate boundary.
You scramble for the sheet’s edge, still minding your tucked towels as much as you can before Hawks’ impatience gets the best of him.
"It's freezing though; get in if you wanna mess around!"
Rolling a little eye, Hawks rests back on his heels where he’s perched on the mattress, and makes a small, swift flare of one wing with a few feathers shooting out, and the flames on your small portable fireplace rekindle themselves with a feather’s arrow-straight press. Your head shoots to the noise and light suddenly casts the warm, flickering glow on his skin and yours.
Bright eyes look up at him, impressed by his little trick,
"Woah! Is that new??"
"New to you. I try not to show off everything my feathers can do to the fans right away. Gotta leave ‘em wanting more."
You collect your hair above the pillow and flop back alluringly, having forgotten for a moment altogether his glory is on display just a foot away from you laid hidden by a quickly slipping towel around his waist, too.
"Uh-huh, smart move,” you admire Hawks in both the professional and personal sense, “So I've earned that distinct honor, have I?"
"Oh, you? You're gonna get more from me than basic Pro-Hero tricks, lovedove." Hawks kneed off the bed to come around to your open swath of blankets, “You have somethin’ of mine that no one else on this earth has...”
You open the covers dressed only in a waiting smile, having shucked the towel off in your settling in, allowing Hawks to take his time joining you into your makeshift nest. Soon he’s ditched his towel as well, favoring the covers.
You’ve laid like this before, with him propping an arm above you, and your joint expressions glazed over while soaking in the sight of each other…
…but like a warning memory flashed before his eyes unseen, Hawks paused; he’s brushing your cheek with utter fondness, yet his smile drops from his face. Like he did before he left town on that mission over a long week ago.
Naturally, you picked up on it. You always did.
"Uh-oh." you coo lightly, "Where'd you go, ‘Number Two’?"
He couldn't say right away, but his brow furrows at being caught. His hand pets firmly along your jaw to ground himself. Careful, reverent, his roughened fingers brush along your face’s comforting fullness, studying you - in no other words- adoringly.
"Nowhere pleasant. Not like here."
"Then come back here." you whisper and lean up to catch a kiss.
You kiss a few times in quick succession, Hawks sighing into each one heavily; for the first time, feeling at home in who knows how long.
“I just love it here,” Hawks whispers to you in such close proximity, “Wish I could be here more often. Was hoping this ‘villain boom’ woulda died down by now… work myself out of a job, be able to spend more nights like this…”
Cupping his face and guiding his forehead to yours, you offer a word up to him softly: to will away the furrowed lines hardening his face.
He’s far more serene in private than he is out in the public eye. ‘Hawks’ can act devil-may-care as a comforting, assuring tool in interviews as it boosts his ratings- but you hope for real peace for ‘Keigo’ when he can go home at night.
"Y'know you don't need to be 'big bad Pro-Hero' here. I know I joke all the time, but.. You are Keigo to me, now-- not the famed ‘Hawks’, not the Winged Hero, or some fanciful title the people carry on about in the streets."
Hawks gave pause, sinking into your touch.
"Those names, it’s part of you, yeah- but you know holding your own with a blade in each hand isn't what deems you perfect in my eyes. If I’m honest, your realness does. Your openness does. The care you give me? Everytime I ask, and you answer me? The aches you’ve told me about that no one else hears, because they aren’t the prettiest…”
Hawks’ gold chain around his catches your attention. Well, his now- but it was originally yours.
It’s a small token you’d given him after your first accidental late night sleepover together, because he loved how thin and subtle it was, shining on your jewelry tree. Loves shiny things: just like the pretty bird you are, you’d teased him- but it was a darling reaction from him. So you gifted it away, without a second thought.
It’s those moments that you catalog as reasons to fall for this boy again and again- even months after you know you know he’s got you locked in.
“The imperfectness: it’s untouched– and it’s the most beautiful thing I think I’ve ever seen, when you let me in. When you be yourself.”
His pretty eyes soften, hedging back ever so much in surprise. Crimson feathers plum behind him in interest.
“It’s heavy, isn’t it,” you look up to the top of his wings unfurling above you, reaching high from the space between his shoulder blades where they stem from; where you hold him tenderly. “I can see that.”
By the look of emotion growing in his eyes, you know you're the only one who sees how heavily life can weigh on him.
“And I know- I know someday,” light tints your voice, trying to offer the same treatment he gives you, “you’ll believe me when I say I will never once slight you for things you choose to share to me- even if they’re out of my depth. Even if you think it's too much for me. You can be anything you want to be with me, tell me anything. This... is what I'll be here for. No sugar-coating. No pity. I’m just here, Keigo."
And if his smitten heart wasn't mush before, it is now.
Hawks's voice sinks like gravel, "How the hell do you hit the nail on the head, dove…"
"I try- though I do try to save my best lines for you~" you added a hint of playfulness.
He kisses your smug look away, right on the nose.
Hawks’ wings cast a shadow over you as they flare up more when he leans.
"That’s why they pay you the big bucks, isn’t it… You're incredible, lovedove."
"So are you."
With a released hum, Hawks grumbles a little, sinking his head into the pillow beside you, sliding down in the covers to drape a heavy arm over your waist. Some heat has died down from his body -but you feel the tone has shifted past a hot pre-shower makeout to something way more intimate.
Watching him lie here, content on his stomach with his wings at their fullest all the way outstretched, you respect this as a gorgeous, vulnerable state.
"I don't– wanna sound crass about this..." Hawks mumbles half into his arm.
You look over at the fire over his shoulder. Reining in a snide remark about the definition of the word,
"Mm, well I am naked in bed with you, having stripped the second you offered to in my closet- into which I fell almost flat on my ass getting in, by the way–the opposite of grace and charm befitting a lady fair as humanly possible. So if you're worried about decorum? You really don't have to hold your tongue with me, Kei."
Hawks laughs with that bright, shallow sound again that shows his full smile.
"Well! Truth it is, then."
Hawks freed his chest with some honesty.
"..I've.. I’ve been dreaming about waking up next to you like this since before I made that stupid race bet. It's– kinda what gets me up in the morning."
You balk at the confession. The calendar in your head backtracks that first shopping trip: more than three months ago. He’s spent dozens of nights in your bed since then, and never once made a move like this.
Three months of waiting out a fantasy to become reality- and now he finally has it fulfilled: nestled beneath him in ivory sheets, stripped of the dress that brought you into his arms in the first place, and still hesitates. You couldn’t believe it.
"Are you serious??"
"Yes?” Hawks answers, almost pained.
"Oh my God!!" you cry out at the ceiling before tucking yourself in your blankets and turning to him fully, "You have the restraint of a eunuch, Kei!"
He swipes a palm down his face.
"Don't get religious on me. Nothing pure about having a hard-on everytime you so much as fix your hair up with a fuckin’ pen. Forget it when you use one of my feathers."
You giggle wildly again. This does little to spare his sheepish embarassent and hides his face with a retracted wing.
"It's not funny, birdie..." the wing speaks.
"No- no, I guess it's not," you try audibly straightening up, running the backs of a few fingers to pet the feathers offered to you. "So– you were saying, about being horny and obsessed with me when you come around? ...Why pump the breaks now, hun?"
"Because-” Hawks’ wings drops ever so much to reveal at least part of his face. “-it's not just 'urges'. I've felt... strongly about you for a while. I know I told you as much back in that dressing room, but that was, like, barely scratching the surface. I've not missed someone like I've missed you."
His heartstrings shine in his eyes, like Hawks is hoping you'll notice his effort.
"I've lived long enough and, yeah, maybe flown around the block enough, too.. But it’s made me know what I really want. And for me... It's not just a want. I meant everything I said earlier.”
His shyness leaving him, Hawks finally returns his arm and outstretched wing over you again:
“I wanted to be the one for you. I loved you then,” Hawks tenderly confesses. “I just didn't know how to put it. Had to keep up all those damn appearances and walls up. Lie that I was joking to cover my ass, n’ regretted it ever since."
You soften because you know that fact must be hard for him to admit.
"And by the time came to come back into town, it’d been so long since I'd seen you, since we last even could talk freely. You’d accomplished so much here and in Mustafu. I… honestly feel kinda shitty that I didn't tell you after so long away… before you were pulled in twenty different directions too, I bet– back when I should have slowed down a damn second to tell you so. I should have, you deserved to know."
"Oh, Keigo..." you loop your arms around his neck loose, brushing his hair back over his ear within reach.
"Sooo, you're not mad?”
"No, I'm not mad."
"Long time I wasn't exactly honest with you,” he presses with apologetic eyes, “I know how you get around all the PDA and stuff.”
You value how much Hawks is trying to be as open with you as he can. You know his limitations and pressures full well that keep him from speaking his mind in the moment as he might like to, and know his affections holding true despite the formalities he’s forced to keep up must have been torture itself.
It shows adorably, on his pouting face, even now.
"That kind of 'dishonesty' is the only one I can live with, hon’. It was worth it in the end anyway, wasn't it?"
Hawks smiles -finally- and pushes up to kiss you chaste on the mouth before melting into your forehead again,
"Every time our paths crossed, baby. even for a second- I ached to get my hands on you any way I could.. but after this last mission, the only thing I wanted was to see you safe and sound, here at home. Nothing more. Just safe. So now- even this- has a bigger weight than ever."
"What do you mean?"
"Being with you, like this..."
Hawks’ hand sweeps down, rubbing long strokes up and down your side. You turn further into him, encouraging the touch.
"I want this,” Hawks utters with soft reverence, “I want you.. but sweetheart, it's not just about a bed anymore. Not for me. It's a connection -an important one- and it goes two ways. I don't want you nervous in any way around me. I want you to be sure. All of this is completely up to you- and I can wait. I will wait, if that's what it takes for you to feel ready."
You cringe at how firm yet desperate he sounds.
See, you’d finally opened up about your hesitations too, about dating heroes in general. It was a funny topic in quirkless circles, as you’d shared with him: widespread assumptions about unfair power dynamics, acclimating to fame by proxy, privacy retention, the like. It made you doubly cautious in your line of work, as you surround yourself with Pro-Heroes on the daily– only to find out one held your heart in a perfectly private place that you were nervous about letting slip and smack you in the face should it go wrong. All irrational fears, truly.
"Dammit, I wish I'd never worded it like that.." you moaned at your past slip. "Keigo, I feel nothing but safe with you. It's--" you flit your gaze around bashfully, "This-- may be something to explore and fumble around a bit with. But it's not because I'm scared, it's because I-- I dunno, I don't want to-..."
He raised a patient brow to you, kind and reassuring.
"... Dissappoint you, I guess?"
With a funny pout, Hawks waits for you to explain.
"I can dole out all the pretty words on a page I like, but things are different when you're right in front of me. Looking at me like this… like I’ve wanted all this time, too,”
You cup his cheek, which he totally sinks into the moment your skin makes contact-
“I get nervous because you're so damn incredible and I want you so fucking bad too… I can't help it either."
Hawks chuckles, relieved in his shoulders as your hungry tone shimmers over your words.
Looking up at him just as tenderly as you touched, you trail a hand along his shoulder, down to his arm. There’s tiny, light freckles there, if you look hard enough.
"Self-conscious is a better way to put it,” you decide, “You've never given me a reason to think you'd hurt me, never... But it's just a fact; you've lived and operated in a different world than I have, Kei. I hope to not be all flustered and blushing through the newness, but I might, still. I know your heart has the best intentions, but I couldn't help imagining you making– comparisons.”
“Comparisons?-”
You swallow your nerves and insecurity rarely voiced to others.
“Just… want to be enough for you. For what you need me to be- if you even wanted that with me."
In favor of fixing his necklace’s clasp, you settled. Inside you knew this wasn't a fair stereotype for heroes, given all he'd shared so intimately about what the life was really like, and he confirmed this suspicion with his displeased reaction.
"You think because I’m out front and center that I should be with someone else.”
You toss the thought away, but answer him in the way you might have months ago, “Maybe?”
“And you think you're lesser because you don't have ‘experience’- because if you're unprepared, you're not of value? That I wouldn’t still want you that way?”
Heat creeps up from your neck, “I- I mean…”
Hawks further stops your preening of him, and holds your hand instead-
“--And because no one's fucked you right in the past means youre unworthy to have it now?”
You dropped your head back immediately in regret and looked off. "Ok crass, but sure."
"Baby, look at me."
At his word, you level out and meet his gaze again. He cups your face again more gently.
"We're going to make another promise to each other, here and now, okay? Gotta make one thing crystal clear, if nothing else."
You nod to agree.
"One, no more bullshit mind reading. I've had enough of that."
A snort leaves you and he smirks to match.
"I mean it! It won't do either of us any good. If you -or I- need to talk, we talk. You said you were here to support me, and you always have been."
Hawks smooths out his hand to grace your collarbone- meant to soothe.
"But that means you need to let me be the same for you. I would never, ever judge you either. You are important to me- as an equal. In so many ways. You have my word on that. Deal?"
"Deal." you agree.
"And for two," the kind tone flips to annoyed, "I’ll rid that 'blushing bride' streak out of your head about this amazing body of yours myself... And I'm willing to use any means necessary. I am a Pro-Hero with training and coercion strategies under my belt. With a problem staring me in the face, I’ll fight it until it’s done- and I'm patient."
You quirked your lip while trying to maintain the sensitive conversation.
"Uh-oh. That sounds serious."
"It will be if you make my job difficult, sweet thing." His eyes jump down to your increasing blush. “Which is why -by the way– it's laughable that you think I'd ever have had time for any chasing tail. Have ya met me? I'd never hear the end of it from my agent!”
That’s funny, but– fair. Another unfair assumption on your part, but Hawks’ easygoing attitude has you bursting into a fit at how easy it is for him to make you laugh.
You really do adore him, and if you can trust him to protect you against a world full of villains, you could give him grace in the love department too.
"Now I'm going to ask you something…”
Hawks turns to an amorous side of him: where you expected him to land once your head hit the pillow…
“and you're going to answer me honestly…"
"Yes, sir?"
Hawks' top rung of feathers ebb, enough to buffer his telltale control. Seems he’s just as susceptible to a sultry title as you are...
"See, that shit?” Hawks pipes up, “That's what’s made the last three months a living hell!"
"What, being polite?" you tease your leg to nudge against his from where you’re pinned beneath him. "I thought you liked that I was a nice girl..."
Lowly, Hawks growls an appreciative moan. He rubs the pads of his fingers along your shoulder all too sensually with just enough pressure to prove his point.
"I do, lovedove. But now, you're my nice girl. Can’t keep you from being yourself… but it's going to be twice as hard not to show everyone who so much as looks at you just how much you're mine."
Behind a demure smile, your heart pounds at this possessive Hawks. Quick instincts targeting prey cross over into the pleasure realm it seems, too.
"My question is..." Hawks leans in shifting lower to nose your hair aside– punctuating his options with a kiss at each stop along your cheek:
"How would you like me to warm you up tonight, lovely? Do you want my hands... my mouth... or something else?"
STARS ABOVE, SOMETHING ELSE YES.
Rather than make the impossible decision, you shudder out a funny quip,
"--Dealer's choice?"
Hawks chuffs against your neck, "That's not an answer, beautiful..."
But how can you answer when he’s so close and siphoning all thoughts from you? All you can do is keen at the sensations on your neck and curl up into him with leisurely hands around his back scratching enticing circles. Kissing gentle suckles at your neck- plus a bite here and there- Hawks sweeps back your waves before he whispers low again,
"Tell me how far you wanna go with this. Can you do that for me?"
"Mhm.." you hum wordlessly. Hawks’ hand presses to the space above your breast.
"Heart's racing again. Does this feel ok?"
You hum back, drawn out and comfortable.
"How ‘bout this?" He dips and now cups a breast in a hand and massages carefully while peppering your neck and chest with the same hot kisses.
A longer moan still.
"There you go. Keep talking to me. Tell me what feels good; you can do it."
There’s nothing you want more than him– nothing in the world.
"You have me. You have all of me," Hawks’ hips curl into the bed in a grind below you getting high off the accidental confessions you let loose.
"I want..." you swallow for control, "... To-- kiss- hah."
His eyes flicker to your face from his perch atop you, seeing you blissed out, lolled to the side: smirking at his success already.
"Yeah?" Hawks drifted a little lower, cooing up at you between wet open-mouthed presses. "Where do you want me to kiss you?"
"No, I-" your voice pitched up higher and he stops, smoothing out his strokes and eyes you as you rouse enough to face him.
From his hand's touch, he surely feels your pulse throb and hangs on your words just as he did before, but you want to take the pressure off of him.
Just for a little while. He deserves it. He won the bet, after all.
"I wanna kiss you."
Hawks bridges over you to meet your eager arms to pull you in for a hungry kiss. Together, you get an addictive taste of each other over and over, meeting each one with equal passion and excited fervor.
In between heavy breaths, you push your racing heart forward towards his next dousing of affection.
" I wanna.."
"Wanna what?" Hawks slurs like he’s drunk. Enamored, but rutting into the bed again impatiently.
"Wanna kiss you-- fuckin' everywhere." you sigh, zeroed in on his throat’s bobbing- adorned with your gift of gold there.
Pleased at your growing excitement, he chimes back, "Be my guest~"
Hawks scoops you up and flips you so you are positioned laying on top. Pleased at the shift, you smile charming as ever and sit up to adjust, putting yourself on full display for him. It’s proof that it was never the dress specifically that made you appealing to him: but the model underneath.
His hands rove over your thighs and hips, getting a good look at you in the firelight, but settle on your angelic face in the end, as usual.
"I kinda like you up there~!"
"Kinda like it, too,” you wriggle yourself with a refreshing rake to your hair's part.
With Hawks's hands on you, you felt truly as powerful and enticing as he made you out to be-- if his gaze wasn't indicative enough.
"Wish you could see yourself right now… You're damn gorgeous."
"And all yours-" you lean down in perfect confidence, settling on his chest and brushing his hair out of your way as well. "May I?"
"Please." He tease a brow for a 'go ahead'.
Oh was he in for it.
The moment you latch on, you suck and mark at his neck like a pro, pulling a groan from his sweet spot already. How the hell did you find it so fast? You're just that good.
You caress his chest with the hand not crucial for balance, fingers beginning to memorize every soft-lipped jump in the skin where a faint scar splits it. It’s the tender attention he deserves that you know from his offhand comments that he does not and has not received in the years spent under the Commissions’ eye.
Taking your time and attention, you lavish on worshipful kisses across the column of Hawks’ throat and have to flip your hair again when you switch sides. Hawks seems to enjoy its drape like a curtain across his field of vision in the few moments where his eyes flutter open. It's a reverse of what his wings do for you; he's enamored by the sight.
"Ohhhh, that's perfect. Oh, you're so perfect- fuck, you're good at thi--S-MMMMM."
Hawks cut off his trill when you sucked another equally tender spot and hum along with him. Lost in the moment yourself, you roll your hips to meet him; how he trembles under you and against the cock twitching to life- hot against your bare skin.
You’re just about to move away from a high point of his neck, when his hand comes up to fist in your hair and hold you in place–
"Harder."
"Hm-what?"
"Bite me--Harder, baby, please."
At the hoarse request, your eyes flash wide open… but who the hell are you to refuse?
So you give him a little nonsensical melody, sung just soft like so along your kisses’ trail, then tease his throat with your teeth before nipping him gentle enough in play. But it’s enough of a shock to make him groan–
"FFFFuck, YES."
You chuckle low, followed by a little hushing finger on his lips.
"Keigo, baby… You don't want my neighbors and half the joint to give my shit about the Winged Hero’s volume, do you?"
"I don't fucking care." Hawks rasps, "Let em hear what you're doin’ to me- let ‘em hear what they can't fuckin’ have."
His lovesickness makes you proud in the most selfish way, and reward him by blowing on the hot skin rising and falling with breath as you kiss along each pec next, lightly singing bits and pieces of no song in particular. For as much as this boy has made your heart sing just by looking your way, you try to give him a piece of that back. Just wordlessly praising him along every scar and response to the sounds he’d make; in want, plead, hunger for more.
Slow torture.
Shockingly- and much sooner than you expected from his control so far- Hawks had enough.
His eyes flash open in molten gold. He’s capturing you with strength you’ve so far only witnessed on tv and is pulling you into his lap in full force. Sitting with legs astride him, you gasp at the heat of him again- even more at how desperately your source of need literally weeps for him.
Blindly Hawks reaches for himself and prods you with some gently-paced rocks up and down, kissing you back and with renewed vigor as your breaths got faster.
"Ready for this?"
You nod and cast every ounce of trust to him with a grounding breath, taken with his eyes for about the millionth time tonight– strong jaw and blonde whisps crafting his face.
"Y’gonna hold on, pretty girl?" Hawks scoops under your shoulder blades, a more mischievous smile gracing his kissed-bruised countenance.
"I got you," you echo. "Your turn to tell me just what you want, huh?"
"Got all I want right here."
And you believe that softness from him: private and earnest and shared as gently as a secret.
It brings a barely audible word of love from the pit of you. Hawks breathes it back into your waiting lips before sealing his mouth to yours.
Then, gloriously slow, he pushes up and moans sinfully into your mouth, low and slow. You made the sweetest sounds in complete rapture once he settles in -full in the best way- slick and deliciously joined.
Hawks curses against your chest, breathing heavily.
"Mmmmm tell me when–I can move... Y’you say when-”
"Ohmygod yes,move…"
No more teasing needed.
Hawks hoists you up and forward suddenly, now bent on his heels. One arm is wound tight around your waist, and the other clutches you to his chest by your warm nape. You release the breath and pull tight onto his shoulders, moaning loud for you. Then, Hawks just went to town: fucking up into you, deep, steady, and hard.
"Oh ssshit, babe, you're so good~~" you praise light and high in your voice, rocking your hips in time, in awe without even the slightest shock of his strength.
Pressing down against him nudges your own sweet spot every time– a point not lost on your dear Keigo.
You rock with him eagerly, but quickly reach the point of lightheadedness he had when you’d kissed all along his chest… the same shocking sensations flutter through you when he starts to make love to each breast lavishly. All those sensations of hard nips and soft tracing were quickly building up and up and up.
“Fuck,Keigo– I, ah… AAH!--”
“That’s it, lovedove– say my name. Say my name- I’m gonna have you cummin’ for me, love.”
Kissing praises into his neck, you become entranced by the sounds of your pats of joining, the grunts of Hawks fighting against his moans in between, the reactive bats of those fierce wings and his strong hand petting through your hair. By its steady grip, you can tell he’s possessively keeping you close while he ruts into you. In no time, it was his turn to babble nonsense while deeply buried in you.
"Sweet baby... Fuck, that feels so good-- ughhhh do thatagain, squeezin’ me... Fuck, you could kiss me anywhere n’ I wouldn’t care... Ahhh just wanna feelyou..."
Your insides swell and sigh at his happy cries... and you can’t bear to refuse him.
So you choose something small~ to test how much your touch truly affects him. You opt for a small, breathy peck at the corner of his eye, where his lashline is fanned out in a darling beauty mark on him by nature’s design. It works: whether it’s a teasing kiss on the neck or a peck on the tenderest skin on his face, you’re making him drive extra punches in his thrusts.
His name is your steady prayer in this treasured, rare time with him,
“You waited a'long time for this haven't you, pretty bird... Missing me so much, loving me from afar, and I didn't even know it yet…"
Hawks chuckles a savory growl, "Missed me too, didya. You missed me? This what you wanted? Feels good, huh?"
"Hell, I couldn't even have imagined it would feel this good, -near- this good-- gods, you're so strong.. and safe- fuck, I'm so safe, and all yours. All yours."
Hawks' pants pick up, almost feral again--
"Say that again."
“I’m– yours?”
“Again.”
Pushing back on his shoulders, you find balance framing his face and pushing his hair back to study his glazed over eyes-- the ones staring right through you with his love’s fire consuming him from the inside out.
Purely on instinct, you tug Hawks’ hair back to whisper against the sensitive skin under his ear,
"I'm yours, Keigo Takami."
Sealing your declaration with a hot mix of tongues, Hawks brokenly cries out, squeezing you tight and pushing you down so hard you felt the stars shoot through you in a blazing hot wake. The burning heat makes you gasp at the fullness now warming you through. Too quick to even ask where you’d have preferred he cum in you, you wouldn’t have honestly had it any other way,
…telling him you were his is what did him in, and you take a special stroke of pride knowing your claim on his heart.
After his strangled grunts give way to deeper breaths, Hawks collapses to the side, sending you in a barrel roll along with him extending his legs under you- still submerged in you. His fingers trail along your back leisurely while he catches his breath, which made for such a comforting cool down.
Breathing normally and opening your eyes again, you notice the fire was still alive in your fireplace unit, but barely- as if the heat you were generating was snuffing out the actual flames. In reality, the timer was just going out.
"Oh wow~" you sigh, "Look at that."
"Yeah- wow~" Hawks sighs.
Your lashes tickle from your pillow -his chest- and remind him, "I was looking at the hearth, sweet boy."
Beyond the heartbeat making music under your ear, you hear only a small rustle above you, then watch a singular feather make another bullseye, and the light roars back to fullness.
"oOo…” It’s shameless how ditzy you feel, watching him not miss a beat, even in his afterglow.
Hawks chuckles, back to stroking you.
"So.. ‘terms fulfilled’, love?"
"Mhmmm. To the letter-" you tease and slowly manage to rise up enough to cross your arms across his chest as a pillow for yourself so you could look at him. Naturally, a smile settles onto your face at the sight, "How bout you; winnings ‘sufficiently provided’?"
Hawks pillows an arm under his head and caresses your face with the other.
"This winner didn't last near as long as he intended to… with all your ‘fulfillment’, little minx."
"I think it was worth it. I got you really worked up- which I imagine, is a hard feat given your occupation,” you fall into his touch. “I'm pretty proud."
Hawks praises you with a sexy little smile, "You should be~"
With his sparkling eyes drooping shut for a moment, you press a little kiss above Hawks' prominent winged eye once again. Upon opening, you found him lazily watching you with a content smile.
"What's that look for?" you ask.
"Just kicking myself,” Hawks holds no sweet-talking twang in his voice now, “Why didn't I cut my rascal act sooner?"
You dismiss his fear in a little roll of your eyes.
"Don't do that. It was meant to be like this. Like you said- no need to rush." Another small kiss is granted on his cheek.
"C'mere," Hawks coaxes you up and gifts you a soothing kiss on the lips. "I love you."
"I love you too."
Your brain still needed catching up, because your muscles seem very slow to move. Shifting off of him, you felt your 'activities' leak its mess down your legs and you shut them immediately, flopping back embarrassed. Hawks chuckles warmly, grabbing one of those abandoned towels and taps your knee to open. The prodding renders you more openly shy now, but Hawks only gave a sweet, consoling brow back.
"C'mon, why so shy? Open up." He prompts your knees to open, and wipes you down with a caring touch.
Even with his task set on purely cleaning your skin, you lay back and stretch your arms just watching him work. Slowing his movements, Hawks meets you eyes again when he makes an unintended jolt along your clit, giving you an appreciative once over, shaking his head with gentle eyes.
“And don’t you think I forgot about you, baby~” he whispers like the rascal he claims to have put behind him: “We’ve got quite the night ahead of us. Can’t be overwhelming you too much too soon.”
You giggle, pulling him down to hide in his shoulder again. Pleased enough at his sense of peace as he breathes, you melt more at the reminder:
"You're gorgeous, you know. Fancy dress or not."
A closed-lipped smile is all you can manage in your exertion.
"Wish I could see it through your eyes. All I see hangin’ over there is a sure fire way to get me laid."
Hawks’ laugh is near delirious- carefree.
"I’ll make you see. Just give me a little time. I'm patient."
Hawks offers you a hand and helps you to your feet- only to catch your unsteady legs, leaving you chuckling into his chest, nuzzling playfully when his wings come around to keep you warm in the meantime.
"Sorry ‘bout that…" you gain better footing.
"What, that I fucked you too good?"
"Keigo."
"Crass, sorry,” Hawks pouts.
"You are not that sorry."
And he agrees, full cheek returned, "Nah."
When he passes your still partially open closet where you’d tossed the dress back to hang up for dry cleaning, Hawks stops your walk altogether in favor of holding you from behind– just like he did in the dressing room.
“And you know that’s not the only thing to get me to take you to bed, lovedove,” he makes the promise by your mess of hair, “Try on anything else in there for me– and all you need to do is ask.”
#keigo takami#hawks#mha hawks#bnha hawks#keigo x reader#keigo takami x reader#hawks x reader#mha fanfiction#my hero academia#boku no hero academia#mha x reader#bnha x reader#hawks smut#keigo smut#keigo takami smut#mha#bnha
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Since I’ve discovered Lego Ninjago at the ripe age of seven, the biggest fantasy of mine has always been to be one of the ninja on the team, fighting alongside the core four and dealing with Serpentine and so on. When I was a little girl, the only way I could satisfy the urge was to use my imagination.
So when the Covid 19 hit back in 2020, and I discovered Wattpad for the first time in my life, it was as if I had entered a whole new world based off of the imagination of other people all across the world. I was spending days and nights on it until there was nothing worth reading for me.
Back in 2022, I finally decided to catch up on the show, seeing it pop up on my Netflix account and decided to give it a go. Before so, I had developed a habit of reading dozens of fan fictions about the show I was at the moment hooked onto, so once I finished watching all of the Ninjago seasons, I went through any fan fiction on Wattpad that I could find regarding Ninjago x reader/original character and quickly noticed a pattern that made me grow bored of whatever book I was reading rather quickly.
Every single fan fiction, save for few rare ones, had the main character be an elemental master of darkness/destruction.
Every. Single. One.
Now at first, I thought the issue stemmed from the fact that there was an obvious lack of originality and uniqueness, but it actually originated from the fact that every story had the exact same storyline, and I mean the exact same one.
The main character would be an elemental master of darkness/destruction and because the elemental powers are inherited, the character is obviously the child of Lord Garmadon and a sibling of Lloyd. Of course, let’s not forget that the character has extreme protectiveness over Lloyd and despises their mother with concerning levels of rage. They are always stubborn and a badass character who never does no wrong and is always in the right and somehow knows exactly what is going to happen but still messes up so the plot can continue as it originally does.
They are also, obviously, the fifth ninja who also possesses a golden weapon of their own, which is usually the most useless thing to ever exist. During the Season 2: Legacy of the Green Ninja, they are in most cases turned to the bad side because their power is unbeatable but it is then somehow beatable because the plot obviously has to move on. Not to mention, they are the only ninja who can use their elemental powers without the golden weapons because they are just that good.
I can guarantee that if anyone goes to Wattpad right now and tries to find a longer Ninjago book with the character insert, they would find at least few books who resemble this exact description. Why? Because the idea of a character, other than Garmadon, who is an elemental master of darkness and destruction is a great plot and idea for the character in Ninjago realm, but none of them actually think outside the box when it comes to actually executing it.
For example, when they write the character to be the fifth ninja and the fifth protector of the fifth golden weapon and the prophesied green savior, why don’t they write about the fact that the element of darkness and destruction is the toughest for Lloyd to master because he refuses to become like his father and because the element itself takes a toll on the mind of the one who possesses it?
Or why don’t they write about the fact that the reason the Ninjago realm is not perfect is because the First Spinjitzu Master used the element of destruction to create something, only for it to come back to bite him in the ass?
Why don’t they give the character the arc of trying to master their elemental power after Lloyd gives each of the ninja a piece of his golden power in Season 3: Rebooted, only for them to go down the wrong path?
Why don’t they write about the inner conflict the child of Lord Garmadon who inherited his elemental powers would have when they see that what others call a gift, in their case it is called a curse? Why don’t they expand on the feelings of envy the child would feel towards Lloyd for being praised and cherished for his destiny while they are looked down on for their own?
There is so many different possibilities to that plot device and yet I have yet to see someone do it properly.
I apologize if this offends anyone but it has been bugging me for three years now and I had to write it down somewhere where I could hear different opinions about it. I am not trying to shame anyone on their work or anything, if that is what you want to write, go for it, I am a nobody with no life who is still hung up on a kids show that aired back in 2011.
Enjoy what you want, love what you want, and take this how you want. Luv ya!
#ninjago rant#lego ninjago#lord garmadon#fan fiction#kai smith#jay walker#lloyd garmadon#cole brookstone#zane julien#nya smith#master wu#ninjago x reader#ninjago x oc
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I've seen some people ask for comparisons between Pen's Chinese and English lines, so I made a small compilation to show the biggest changes that most baffled me.
There is a kind Chinese player, Yu, who offered the fandom much of the info and insight contained in this post, and she was the first to shed light on these differences! Without her enthusiasm, I doubt people would have started investigating Pen's original lines ;_;
Under the read more because this is long!
Brief premise: the Chinese dialogues in the game are often less "harsh" than the English ones. For example, Qi can sound rude and condescending in English, while he's pretty polite, if not a bit aloof, in Chinese. Justice's lines in English rely on the typical "hey pardner" cowboy accent, while in Chinese he's very professional, almost overly so.
That said, the English writer who worked on Pen made it no mystery that he based his characterization of Pen on Gaston from Beauty and the Beast. There is even a line directly referencing the movie: "[...] when I was a boy I ate four dozen eggs every morning to help me get large. Now that I'm grown I have five dozen eggs [...]"
As such, English Pen sounds much different from Chinese Pen. He's more patronizing and rude, and the writer added stuff that it's simply not present in the Chinese text. So while in English Pen can sound like a knucklehead obsessed only with muscles and training, surrounded by adoring women and fans when in Duvos, in Chinese he shows a different, almost more innocent side, as if he were a very tall and big child who has never had a day of legitimate and healthy fun in his life (and that's carried across in some of the English lines - that's why his English version is a bit contradicting sometimes).
Here are some examples:
One of his lines as a Good Friend is:
Here it's implied that Pen gives the Builder a hard time not only to push them to improve themselves... but also because he likes doing it, referencing his friendship mission where he admits he doesn't like teaching people anything, he just wants to fight them.
Meanwhile, the Chinese version says:
I keep calling you a weakling just to urge you and encourage you to exercise hard and break through your limits. If you won't have me to protect you in the future, you will have to become an eagle for me!
Here "eagle" is a reference to the way Pen calls the Builder in Chinese: 小弱鸡 "little weakling/little chicken" - and the latter is a rude way to call someone in Chinese, especially if they are a man and the "chicken" character (鸡) is repeated twice (but 鸡 by itself is also slang for "female prostitute"... so if you want to read it that way, Pen can call the Builder "my little slut" when in a relationship. HEH.)
In any case the tone in this line of dialogue is much different from the one in English, and Pen sounds genuinely enthusiastic.
Another example:
At the start of the game, Pen asks the Builder to craft a Sword and Shield for Burgess, who apparently misplaced his own. It turns out Burgess hid them under his bed, so when the Builder tries to give the weapons they crafted to Pen, he will tell them to keep them.
As usual, the English version is mocking and patronizing ("Hah! That'd be rich!"). In the Chinese version, Pen first compliments the desert:
In this case, take it back and use it for yourself! Use it to explore the desert and fight those monsters - what a thrill! The desert is very dangerous, but it is also full of charm.
Then there is the line about Logan and his band:
Hey! Maybe you can still find traces of Logan's gang! If you subdue them, you will gain both fame and fortune! [Okay, see you next time] [not shown here]
Now, some romance stuff : >
This is the description for the Robo-Love Couch. In English it says:
Meanwhile the Chinese description:
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/deb6c23217c90b992a68300769a8f7e2/c333c45741c5a9bc-af/s500x750/d24e89142c9a693b456e690e1da1a7bf7bc9a188.jpg)
Referred to as the "Love Sand Machine", Peng Hu specially built a loving sofa for you, pieced together from the remains of robot monsters in the ruins.
He specially built a loving sofa for the Builder. It seems like a silly detail, but wording is important!
And yes, Pen's full name is Peng Hu, 彭虎. Peng is his family name, Hu his birth name. Hu 虎 means "tiger", and now you can understand why Grace suspected him to be Tiger the spy. But that would have been too easy!
Peng 彭 is a common Chinese surname. Its original meaning is believed to be "sound of war drums" (sad implication), but it's also used as an adjective to mean "big". So Pen's full name can mean "big tiger" :D
Back to the couch! Lines are different during the date in Paradise Lost, too.
Come on, little weakling, come and sit next to me. Let's give this trophy a "kiss of victory"! Do you do this with everyone you date? Wait, it seems I'm regretting it a bit... Happiness comes too suddenly...... (Kiss Peng Hu)
In the English version, the Builder can ask "How many of these thrones have you built...?", implying that Pen has had so many lovers he can craft this couch in a matter of few seconds. But in Chinese, the Builder's question is much different, it's more like: "Damn, are you always so over the top when dating someone??"
One of the biggest differences is in this set of lines:
Okay.
Meanwhile, in Chinese:
Today's experience made me realize that love has used a deadly locking technique on both of our hearts. Let me no longer doubt the feelings between us. This love is true love! Now, I am even more unwilling to take my eyes away from you! Haha!
I MEAN.
Also, in Chinese Pen never mentions the infamous 12 girlfriends when the Builder and Grace question him in jail. Yu confirmed that throughout the game Pen doesn't brag about his love life or his popularity with women, probably also due to the negative way Chinese culture sees this kind of "bragging".
Not only Pen and many other characters are younger in Chinese Sandrock (Pen's age ranges from 25 to 27, while he's confirmed to be 31 in the English localization), but he's depicted as being not very experienced in relationships in general. He basically only knows how to fight, punch people, and destroy stuff. Anything else - having friends, being with someone who truly loves him and whom he truly loves, having a normal life - are something he never experienced before. He did date (see his final letter later), but he's not described being the Casanova of Duvos like he is in the English version. In fact, it seems people only liked him due to his body and status, and a remnant of this piece of characterization is left in the English text when he says:
Surely, you understand… I am quite the prize. I can’t take myself off the market just to become arm candy for you to show off at your little buildy guild awards or whatever it is! No, what I desire… is true love…
Furthermore,
In Chinese, he says during the Masterclass friendship mission: "To be honest, I never thought I'd be able to make friends, let alone with someone of your stature/body size! But here we are, with a sick relationship!"
In English: "You know, Skinny, I’ve never had someone I really considered a friend before. Furthermore, I always promised myself I’d never be friends with anyone who didn’t have an awesome cape, but… you made me break that promise."
"I never thought I'd be able to make friends" is different from "I’ve never had someone I really considered a friend before." In the first line, the focus is on Pen ("I don't know how to make friends; I'm not good at it; it's not for me; how do you do it?"), in the second it's on other people ("I've been surrounded by people all my life, but I don't consider any of them to be a friend of mine; yeah, I call this one 'friend', but... they are not really really a friend")
The Chinese line is much sadder, and it shows how lonely Pen's life has been. One of his main characteristics, after all, is being "special", "the strongest", "different from everyone else"; but more often than not, being special and different also mean being "lonely". ("I must say it gets lonely at the top… What I wouldn't give for a truly talented opponent who could really keep me on my toes! Alas...")
And now, the grand finale :'>
A screenshot from Yu's playthrough, Pen's final line:
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/d38b0e487957c1a80063171e56e1139d/c333c45741c5a9bc-ce/s540x810/97142de5b945af91d3b14aa34209ddc6914ab9f2.jpg)
Farewell, Yu. This time it's for real. You're free.
The Protector, the bracelet Pen will leave for the Builder in the cave, is called "Guardian of Love" (爱的守卫者) in Chinese. Its description says:
A very delicate bracelet that protects the wearer's wrist. Wearing it gives the wearer a feeling of being emotionally confined. Perhaps this feeling is similar to what Peng Hu often said, "Marriage is a boring bondage".
His letter in Chinese is also sweeter and sadder:
最近在这所谓的阿塔拉最高监狱,我也多了点时间思考,没法带你一起来陪我,多少有些遗憾。罢了,这事也怪我。不管怎么说,你也算是我交往过的恋人里最让我上心的,也是为数不多分手之后我还继续挂念的。所以,我打算原谅你了。对——我原谅你了。我想我们也没有机会再在一起了,你也不过是做了你那个位置该做的事,没什么值得抱怨的。我应该一开始就努力把你“招安”了,让你跟我一起,才是最妥当的做法。当然我也没怨你,你确实很优秀。我还留了个最后的挑战给你。在某个遗迹里,有我最宝贵的几样东西,如果你能拿到,就归你了。运用我教给过你的一招半式,要去到那里应该很容易。我亲爱的小弱鸡,这是我最后一次这样叫你了,我相信你的能力。记住,不要怠慢了训练。我们,后会无期。
Dear [name], I've had a little more time to think lately in this so-called Atara Maximum Prison, and I'm more than a little sorry that I couldn't bring you along to accompany me. Well, it's my fault. Anyway, you are still the most beloved lover I have ever been with, and one of the few that I continue to miss even after a breakup. So, I'm going to forgive you. Yeah - I forgive you.I don't think there's a chance we'll ever be together again. You're just doing what you're supposed to do in your position, so there's nothing to complain about. I should have tried my best to recruit you from the beginning, and it would have been the best way to keep you with me. Of course I don't blame you, you're indeed excellent. I also left you a final challenge. In some ruins, there are a few of my most valuable things, and if you can get them, they're yours. It should be easy to get there, using the tricks I've taught you. My dear little weakling, this is the last time I'll call you that, I believe in your abilities. Remember, don't slack off on your training. We won't meet again. (but 后会无期 can also mean "meeting at an unspecified/unclear date")
And finally, if romanced, Pen will leave for the Builder 5 pieces of gold, 2 diamonds, and 1 Protector. 521 (and 520) are a cute way to say "I love you" in Chinese, because when read aloud they sound like "我爱你, Wo ai ni, "I love you". But in some cases, 521 also means "Yes, I will [marry you]" - and Pen does drop a diamond ring after his final battle (apparently he drops it only if you romanced him, but it's unclear yet. I'm pretty sure he didn't drop it during my Fang playthrough, while he did drop it when I romanced him, but I'll need to check that).
WELP, this is pretty much everything I got on this! If the kind Yu will tell us more or I find anything else, I'll update this post!
#mtas#mtas pen#my time at sandrock#my time at sandrock pen#PATHEAAAA#YOU HAD A GOLDEN CHARACTER IN YOUR HANDS#AND YOU WASTED THE CHANCE....#you can see the chinese writers DID put more effort into his characterization#they wanted to write the “bad boy who actually loves you” trope#meanwhile the english writer went for “disney villain/clown bachelor choice”#hahah such fun :')
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Bring Back What Once Was Mine
Chapter Summary: The nation of Cryo welcomes you.
Characters Mentioned: The Fatui Harbingers & The Tsaritsa.
Content Warning: Cult and Religious themes ahead! You've been warned.
Reader is the true creator of Teyvat. GN! Reader
Part Four Part Five (you are here!) Part Six
You alr know what I’m gonna say… not beta read :>
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/b6a663e4fbde95a83b23d37e22ab94ff/8e70b00ba22346b3-c6/s540x810/45465ca6c893a697aba58ffdb0be8080f9e003b6.jpg)
The Gnosis didn’t just connect the Archons to the Creator. It also connected them to Celestia.
Although very few understand it, one thing that is known is Celestia is the residence for the Gods. On rare occasions, mortals can ascend to Celestia if they preform great, heroic feats. Meaning even humans can achieve godhood.
However as the decades went by, the Archons begin cutting of their ties to Celestia after the Cataclysm. They decided to live in their respective nations rather than watching them from above.
Celestia, who noticed the reservations of the Seven, knew that it had to do something to keep its order intact.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/835f1b28bf655e01739dc98448319b35/8e70b00ba22346b3-a5/s540x810/92a495671d3e400573585702b0b2316508ef8892.jpg)
“You’re Grace?”
“Hmm?”
“You should put your coat on now, we will be arriving on shore soon.”
A few hours has passed since you had made a detour in your journey gotten a on the boat with Childe, he was a talkative individual, boasting about his skills in combat or about the Tsaritsa. Yet when you asked about the other Harbingers he wouldn’t say much, he would vaguely mention something about their strength or their contribution to the Fatui.
Speaking of the Fatui, you still had your reservations about the infamous group. Though when you try to reassure yourself that you know the Cryo Archon better than anyone else, Aether’s words fills your ears.
You sigh slipping the soft material of the coat onto your arms, feeling your body instantly heat up.
“Lord Harbinger,” one of Childe’s soldiers approached the two of you in a stiff bow. “We have arrived.”
Just like with Sumeru, it seems the Snezhnaya had changed a great deal since the last time you were here. You could hardly believe that this nation had been on lock for many years.
Childe holds his hand out to you, “I’ll lead you, Your Grace.” You rest your hand in his gloved one causing him to smile wider as he leads off the boat onto the icy deck.
The deck and the pathway leading to the Zapolyarny palace has a scare amount of security. You couldn’t help but wonder if it was on purpose or if your arrival to Snezhnaya is unexpectedly early.
“Are you nervous, Your Grace?” Childe asks suddenly.
You swallow, could he feel your apprehension? As the two of you get closer to the Zapolyarny palace, you could feel the tension in your body increase. The overwhelming presence of malice the palace was giving off, you could only imagine who- or what- was in there.
He gives your hand a slight squeeze looking over at you, “there’s no need to be nervous, the Fatui and Her Majesty are your most loyal servants. We will never do anything to betray you.”
Nodding at his words, you try to ignore the goosebumps that just appeared on your skin.
Childe pushes open the large doors leading you inside the icy fortress. Even though it wasn’t very well lit, the decor in the inside was spectacular. Multiple banners hung from the support beams all of them with snowflakes decorated at the bottom of it. There were also dozens of pews that lead to the front of the room which seemed to be the most lit. Many soldiers stood near the wall gawking in your direction once you entered the palace, but with a simple glance, you could tell they were lower ranked. Not because of anything they were wearing, but because of the two who stood in front of you.
One you recognized to be the Cryo Archon but the other was someone you’ve never seen before. Both were all dressed nicely but still kept the cold weather in mind.
The Tsaritsa was the only one to approach you, she wasted no time grabbing your free hand with both of hers. “Your Grace please forgive me for my rude welcoming. If I had known you would arrive today-“
“You have no reason to apologize, I wish I was here under better circumstances…” you interrupt.
She lets go of your hand nodding, “having you here already means everything to me.”
You smile at her sweet words, the Tsaritsa was still the same as you remembered. Maybe letting the words of Yelan and Aether get to you was a bad idea.
“You must tired after your journey.” The Tsaritsa begins, “we’ve prepared a room just for you. I hope it’s to your liking.”
Truthfully, you would take any bed right now. Ever since you descended to Teyvat, you’ve been sleeping outside or not sleeping at all, you wouldn’t complain about any accommodations right now.
She looks back at the man who was watching your interaction, “my most trusted will guide you to your chamber. I will come check on you later.”
The Tsaritsa takes a step away from you, turning her attention to Childe who was still holding your hand. “Come with me Tartaglia,” she orders.
Childe hesitantly lets go of your hand giving you a reassuring smile, “don’t worry Your Grace, if you need anything from me, I’ll still be in the palace.”
It fell silent for a moment in the palace, only thing that could be heard is the faint footsteps of Childe and the Cryo Archon walking off as they whisper about something you couldn’t make out.
“Divine One…”
You focus your attention on the man in front of you. He had on a mask like the soldiers in the room with you but his only covered half of his face, his hair is white and his eyes… (or eye) were the most peculiar. It was definitely something you recognized but he was standing to far away for you to make out what it was exactly.
“My name is Pierro,” he introduces, “I will guide you to your chamber.”
So this was the Tsaritsa most trusted. It makes you wonder how long he’s been in the Fatui to earn such a title. He leads you down a hall in the opposite direction that the Tsaritsa had went, he doesn’t say anything keeping his gaze forward and his hands behind his back.
“Where are the others?” You ask breaking the silence.
He glances at you for a moment, “I’m assuming you mean the other Harbingers? They’ll be returning soon.”
Pierro stops in front of a double doored room at the end of the hall, “this is where you’ll be staying while in Snezhnaya, Divine One.” He opens the door for you allowing you to walk inside as he stands by the threshold.
The room was fairly dark, the only light coming from the fireplace on the furthest wall from the door. There was one large bed in the middle of the room and a couch by the fireplace. There was also a table with a few books neatly stacked on it.
“I hope you enjoy your time in the Zapolyarny Palace.” Pierro closes the door leaving you alone in the large room.
Once the door clicks, you pull the flower Aether had given you out of your pocket inspecting it closely. Luckily it hadn’t wilted while on your journey to Snezhnaya. You place the flower on the table shrugging off your coat draping it on the chair. You relax into the couch allowing the fireplace to keep you warm, unaware that this is the last time you’ll relax before knowing the truth yourself.
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The Zapolyarny palace was more comforting than you thought it be.
Slouching on this couch has to be the first time you ever allowed yourself to fully relax since you descended to Teyvat. You didn’t even realized you were succumbing to sleep until you heard faint voices outside your door that brought your attention back to reality.
“Is their Grace really behind this door?”
“That’s what the Jester said, maybe I should bring them something to eat.”
“Why should it be you? Their Grace knows me, they’ll be more comfortable if I bring it to them.”
“It shouldn’t have been you who found them in the first place, Tartaglia. I’m higher ranked than you, it should be me who gives it to them.”
“Well if it’s purely based off our rankings than it should be me, no? I am the highest ranked out of us all since number one isn’t here.”
“You’d just scare them off Dottore!”
Their fighting immediately ceases causing you to sit up on the couch. We’re they aware you were listening or did they walk off to argue somewhere else. Neither answer made sense, you hadn’t made a noise since you noticed they were outside your door and you didn’t hear their footsteps or fading voices indicating that they walked off.
A soft knock is heard at the large doors.
“Your Grace,” a voice calls out. It was the Tsaritsa, “are you awake? May I come inside?”
You use your palms to straighten out your wrinkled clothing before answering, “yes I’m awake. Please come in.”
The door opens immediately and the Cryo Archon walks inside closing the door behind her.
“We’re you able to settle in?”
You nod, “yes! This room is perfect, thank you.”
“I’m glad…” she slowly approaches you on the coach before hesitantly sitting next to you. “Well there’s no point of beating around the bush… I’m assuming you know why I came to see you?”
You rest your hands in your lap giving her your full attention, “it’s about the False Creator. Right?”
“Yes.” She confirms, “Tartaglia wasn’t lying when he said that I’ve figured out where the False Creator came from.”
You say nothing waiting for her to continue and after a best of silence she says, “Your Grace, there’s a reason why none of the Archons were alerted to your presence. We all removed our Gnosis.”
Your eyes widen, “what? Why?”
“It’s not because of you!” She quickly reassures, “we all still hold you in the highest regard, but to be connected to you we also have to be connected to…”
“…Celestia…” you finish her sentence. “Is there something wrong with Celestia? Why don’t you all want to be connected to it anymore?”
She brushes some of her hair off her shoulder, “when you went off world centuries ago and left Celestia in control of Teyvat, something changed.”
“What do you mean?” You ask.
She shrugs, “I’m not entirely sure what happened but once you left, being in Celestia felt… wrong. Like none of us were supposed to be there but it was Celestia’s final order that made us cut our connection to it.”
“Celestia’s final order?”
“What I’m trying to tell you is that Celestia had ordered us Archons to destroy Khaenri'ah under the guise that it was you who told us to.”
Once she had seen your face, it takes everything out of the Tsaritsa not to fall onto the floor and beg for your forgiveness, but telling you everything is whats important right now, even if you do hate her afterwards.
“We all thought it was you who told us to do it… and that’s when the other one had arrived. Pretending to be you, they reassured us that we did the right thing and that we had gotten rid of a nation filled with sinners.”
You notice her eyes fill with tears, she felt true guilt for what she and her fellow Archons had done. Reaching out, you place your hand on top of her silently urging her to continue.
“Celestia feared it was losing it’s control over Teyvat after us Archons stopped going there once you had departed. So it sent down a fake you to keep the control it had over the world. With the False Creator and the Gnosis, Celestia had Teyvat right in the palm of it’s hands.”
“Wait.” You interrupt, “if that’s all they did, then why was Khaenri'ah destroyed?”
You feel her hands trembling under yours, but before you can comment on it she continues. “Khaenri'ah had found out about Celestia’s plans to send down a False Creator. When Khaenri'ah had made plans to summon you, Celestia ordered the destruction of the nation. It’s what we call the Cataclysm.”
You remove your hand from hers bringing them up to your mouth. There’s no way she was actually telling the truth, Celestia had existed way before anyone on Teyvat did. It was one of your first creations, would it really betray you like that?
A cold hand on your cheek breaks you out of your thoughts, the Tsaritsa turns your head to look at her a frown apparent on her face.
“I know how this sounds your Grace but you must believe me. I would never tell you such a blasphemous lie if it weren’t the truth!”
“What were these plans Khaenri'ah had found?” Are the only words to leave your lips.
“A prototype.” She explains, “they had sent down a prototype to see if they could fool Khaenri'ah into believing it was actually you. Celestia knew that convincing that nation would be the hardest since it was the only nation without an Archon.”
You stand from your spot on the couch causing the Tsaritsa to jump up as well, her face looked frantic but she held her composure well. It was clear where the Fatui had gotten their cold nature from.
“And how exactly did you get all of this information?”
“There are many remnants of Khaenri'ah still around Teyvat Your Grace. Celestia wasn’t able to eradicate everything.” She explains.
There was a another silence between the two of you but it wasn’t like before, this time it felt suffocating. If what she claims is the truth that means your own creation, something you believed you could trust, had betrayed you. Now everything made sense. Everything Aether had told you about the remnants of Khaenri'ah still being present. He was there, he probably seen all of it.
You should’ve went with him when you had the chance. Outlander or not, you were conflicted on who you could trust now.
“Your Grace?” the Cryo Archon stutters out her hand resting gently on your shoulder. “What are you going to do now?”
You decide not to respond but her question continues to repeat in your mind. What are you going to do? If it was Celestia, then destroying the Imposter wouldn’t solve your problem. What if you decide to go off world again? Would Celestia just make another Fake Creator and take reign over your world once more? You couldn’t let that happen, it wasn’t a risk you were willing to take.
“As unbelievable everything you just told me sounds, I’m going to trust you…”
Her body visibly relaxes at your explanation.
“Even though I still don’t know everything I wanted, if Celestia was the one who created the Imposter then I cannot waste anymore time. I must return to Sumeru and deal with them immediately.”
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Note: I apologize for the five day wait, but this part took a lot of research on my end and yeah 💀 i already know there are some inaccuracies but for the sake of the plot idc. Anyways we have just reached the climax of the story, my plan is to wrap everything up in three more chapters but we’ll see how that turns out.
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Krittika: The Tarzan Complex & Survival Strategies
TW: murder, rape, genocide, euthanasia, death, violence, misogyny
This is part 2 of my ongoing Krittika series. This research was commissioned by the wonderful, angelic and patient, @rscelestia-blog . Being commissioned to do nakshatra research by you guys makes me feel like I'm a renaissance artist and you guys are my Medici family ✨🥺🫶💛 I'm so grateful for it.
For this post, I wanted to look into how this nakshatra often manifests in men. Whenever I talk about how naks manifest irl, I am talking about a tendency not a rule. Astrology is not a perfect science and it is very much possible that someone could have these placements and not behave this way. Also there are hundreds of different tendencies for each nak, since every astrologer is a mere human being with limited knowledge, what they derive from their studies is perhaps only a handful of such possibilities. Therefore every nakshatra has vast room for interpretation.
All that said, I have often thought that Krittika men were a bit unrefined and mannerless for a long time. I think this broadly applies to Solar men in general because they're a "guy's guy". However, this observation was further cemented by an ask that I received a long time ago where an anon pointed out how many actors who have played Tarzan or Tarzan like characters have Krittika nakshatra.
I will be making a separate post about the 'feral child' trope and how its most acutely manifest in a different planetary type but for this post I want to focus on the 'uncivilized' nature of Krittika/Solar men.
I had mentioned in my previous Krittika post about how since Krittika nak follows Bharani where creation takes place, Krittika is about survival.
In fact, the theory of 'survival of the fittest' was put forward by another Solar man aka Charles Darwin, Uttarashadha Moon
The term was originally coined by Herbert Spencer, Ketu in Uttaraphalguni after reading Origin of the Species
Alfred Russel Wallace, whose own theory about the mechanics of evolution was almost identical to Darwin's, had a Solar stellium (Mercury & Venus in Uttarashadha and Jupiter in Krittika)
In Nazi Germany, they appropriated Darwin's "survival of the fittest" to eradicate anybody who wasn't Aryan or 'fit'. One of the key proponents of the same was an officer named Alfred Rosenberg, Uttarashadha Sun who was hanged to death after the war. He helped advance involuntary euthanasia to eliminate mentally ill and disabled individuals.
Now, lets go into Tarzan.
Tarzan is from an aristocratic British family and after losing his parents, he is adopted by the leader of the ape tribe, among whom he is raised. He later experiences civilization, rejects it and returns to the wild.
Many actors who have played Tarzan have either Solar influence or Venusian influence. In the 2 dozen actors who have played this character, the majority are Venusian tbh but I'll explore that more on a separate post about Venusian men. I think its interesting how different aspects of this character fit these two planetary types.
Here are some men who have played Tarzan
Johnny Weissmuller, Mercury and Venus in Krittika
He played Tarzan in 12 films and Jungle Jim in another dozen films and its TV adaptations as well.
Bruce Bennett, Krittika Sun (unrelated but i find this pic so funny lmao)
Tony Goldwyn- Krittika Sun and Venus (atmakaraka)
He voiced Tarzan in the 90s film
Tarzan has always been played by other Solar natives like:
Wolf Larson- Uttaraphalguni Moon
Alexander Skarsgaard- Uttaraphalguni Stellium
Now when we think of Tarzan, what do we most associate with him? He is a man who was raised in the jungle by apes since he was a baby, so he is "uncivilized" and by most standards "lacking manners", he is wild, messy, uncouth, improper and defies all kinds of social norms. We usually associate "mannerlessness" with belonging to perhaps a lower class in society but here is where Krittika and Solar men surprise us. They behave this way despite all that they have. They could be from immensely privileged backgrounds and still act like jungle freaks.
They lack social charisma, grace or "politeness". Tarzan is very independent because he was raised in the jungle where he had to learn how to fend for himself. Similarly, Solar individuals also tend to be very socially independent which means they're often not the best at interacting on a group level. In order to be sociable, you have to emotionally connect with others, Tarzan's early life is not something anybody else can connect to, even if he adopts a more "civilized" behaviour, he's still going to stand out because of how he's lived his life. Even if they're welcomed into and accepted by society, Solar individuals struggle to relate to and emotionally connect to them.
Sun naks are generally known for being a bit emotion-less but in Krittika this manifests in a very "each for himself/herself" mentality that ISNT self-serving. I would say Krittika natives are the least selfish and most service oriented of all the 3 Sun nakshatras. They know that its a dog eat dog world, so they almost have a tendency to be the one who does all the brunt work so that their loved ones can be spared of it?
I'll mention some examples of "mannerless" Krittika men now:
youtube
Howard Stern, Uttarashada Sun Krittika Rising
This guy straight up is so RUDE and crass and vulgar with ALL of his guests????
Here is him talking to Matthew McConaughey about his father dying and Matt is no better in this clip either but like wtf?? who talks like that???
Lowkey Solar individuals LOVE to gossip and start shit between people.
Here is a compilation of him being creepy and disgusting to women on his show.
Dana Plato, the actress, committed suicide a day after appearing on his show in 1999. The humiliation she endured is said to have been her breaking point. Her son committed suicide on the 11th anniversary of her death.
When I tell you Solar men are emotionally abusive, either by being avoidant and ignoring you or by being condescending, patronising, openly mocking you and treating you like shit, BELIEVE ME.
Jordan Peterson- Krittika Rising
I dont know if I need to explain why Jordan is a mannerless misogynistic asshole.
Here are some remarks made by Kate Manne, a feminist expert, who critiqued Jordan's work:
"There’s an interesting moment in the book where Peterson talks about resentment as a “revelatory” emotion that can mean one of two things. One, you feel it because you’re immature, in which case you just need to buck up. Two, you feel resentment because you really are being oppressed or taken advantage of somehow. Your resentment shows you that something needs to change or that you need to assert yourself in relation to other people.
But there is clearly a third possibility. People often feel resentful because they appear, based on historically entrenched social norms, to be getting a bad bargain, when what’s actually happening is that others are getting a somewhat fairer deal. When you’re accustomed to unjust privilege, equality feels like oppression, as the saying goes." (link to the whole article)
This is such a classic example of the way Solar individuals think. They don't really think in terms of privilege, justice, fairness etc??? They just think you can work hard enough to erase all the other socio-economic-political barriers that make things harder for others?? This is of course until they've had first hand experience of difficulties of this sort lmao but they are naturally not wired to think too much, they're very simple minded, like Tarzan, that's why Sun is the most Yang of energies. Its a very action-goal oriented line of thought. They are almost incapable of thinking in abstract or trying to see things within the context and subtext in which it has occurred.
This is also why they are often very academically gifted. Naturally intelligent people struggle the most in school because their brains are not wired to endure the structure and mechanical system of learning that our education system enforces. Intelligence by definition necessitates that the person possessing it is capable of thinking unconventionally and that means finding the school environment really limiting or restrictive bc schools fr be killing the joy of learning.
Solar individuals thrive within these systems because they seldom, if ever, question the system itself, they just learn their material and write the exam. They do not think "unconventionally" or beyond the binary in any way. They accept what they learn to be true and they are more focused on working within the system to climb its ranks. If this is the system we're in, they want to be THE BEST in it and they will master all of its rules to work with it to beat it??
This is why all Solar naks are at the very top of the caste hierarchy, Krittika is a Brahmin nak whereas Uttaraphalguni & Uttarashadha are both Kshatriya naks
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Solar individuals are lowkey one of the least empathetic types. I dont mean this to be harsh but they're not very emotionally intelligent and its really hard for them to read a room or intuitively pick up on how someone's feeling/what's on their mind. You reallyyyy need to spell things out for them. It does not come to them naturally to understand how others think or to put themselves in the shoes of others because for Solar individuals everything is kind of a competition and when its a battle of survival, you dont stop to think how your opponents are feeling? this is not to say that they're in "survival mode",, Solars are too unbothered to be in fight or flight 24/7, its just the Tarzan mindset tbh. If you're an animal in the jungle, the jungle is your home, you understand how it operates, how you must hunt or starve, you know what your odds are, you cant be here feeling too empathetic towards other creatures knowing full well that you have to hunt them down and eat them or otherwise starve yourself to death. Animals are comfortable, secure and chill in their habitat but they also understand the stakes so they're always survival minded? Because it truly is each for his/her own out there.
Mark Wahlberg- Krittika Stellium (Mercury, Venus AK and Saturn)
Wahlberg is an A class asshole. In the 80s he assaulted two elderly Vietnamese men and a group of black children all the while hurling racist abuses at them.
Here is a clip from one of his movies:
youtube
I know its a film but this is for real how Solar men view the world. They see everything as a "conquest". (Tarzan mentality)
The simple minded Tarzan mentality is also why in the books and movies, Tarzan is unable to cope with civilization and returns to the jungle. The author said it's because Tarzan saw the world as too corrupt which is perhaps true but it's also because having lived in a jungle where the ruled are pretty simple and standard, being a member of society means adhering to many unspoken ruled and conventions. Solar individuals find it THE hardest to do so and when they're actual being true to themselves, they act like apes of the Howard Stern school.
Salvador Dali, Krittika Stellium (Sun, Mercury & Mars)
To make matters worse, he was UBP Moon (the influence of multiple malefic planets makes one more prone to being an asshole) and I have extensively covered his wrongdoings in my post about Saturnian men
However, for now I want to focus on how Dali was a Nazi sympathizer,
He was also obsessed with Hitler in a perverse way and apparently had homoerotic fantasies of him lmao??
He was once quoted as saying:
"I often dreamed of Hitler as a woman. His flesh, which I had imagined whiter than white, ravished me… There was no reason for me to stop telling one and all that to me Hitler embodied the perfect image of the great masochist who would unleash a world war solely for the pleasure of losing and burying himself beneath the rubble of an empire; the gratuitous action par excellence that should indeed have warranted the admiration of the Surrealists."
He was a big old fascist who also supported the Spanish dictator Franco which made Picasso stop talking to him for the rest of his life.
In 1975, when General Franco executed many people, hundreds and thousands of fascists gathered in support of Franco, chanting his name and making fascists salutes. When the world condemned this appalling act, Dali praised Franco and called him the “greatest hero of Spain.”
George Orwell, a strong critic of the fascist rule in Spain, despised Dali and wrote —
“During the Spanish Civil War, he astutely avoids taking sides and makes a trip to Italy. He feels himself more and more drawn towards the aristocracy, frequents smart salons, finds himself wealthy patrons, and is photographed with the plump Vicomte de Noailles, whom he describes as his ‘Maecenas.’”
Salvador Dali was nicknamed ávida dollars (“eager for dollars”) by his former surrealist friends for selling his consciousness and idealism for money and fame.
Average Solar behaviour
When I talk about Tarzan mentality, I'm referring to how lions dont feel remorse at the thought of killing deers. Its not in their nature to feel remorse. The hierarchy of the eco system is such that lions are predators and its their job to hunt. They are by biological design, carnivores. Its a bit sickening to think of how like animals, who have no choice but to be brutal to survive, Solar individuals often have this ruthless ambition to do absolutely anything to get ahead in life. The world we live in, is a capitalist, patriarchal world and the people who thrive in it are ones who are willing to overlook or dont see the faults in the system at all.
The ones who sit at the very top of the pyramid did not get there by being compassionate angels. 3/4 Brahmin caste naks are "ugra" or violent nakshatras, Krittika is the exception, as it is a "mishra" nakshatra (mishra means "mixed"). The ones at the very top are the most brutal and fierce. There is no other way to get to the top in this world.
Carrie Fisher, Krittika Moon
The singer James Blunt (Shatabhisha stellium) who was besties with Carrie, wrote in his memoir:
“I was closer to Carrie than almost anyone else in the world, except my wife. She told me which girlfriends weren’t suitable, was the first person I told when I met my wife, and we chose engagement rings for her together.
She also knew where every unmarked grave of mine lay and where every guilt stemmed from. She was complicit too. When I arrived home one morning with a love bite on my neck, and my girlfriend of the moment about to arrive, Carrie grabbed her 16-year-old daughter and gave her a love bite as well.
Then Carrie summoned me over, offering her own neck, and told me to give her a love bite. When the girlfriend arrived, we all had love bites.
There was also an issue with drugs. Carrie had long been open about her addiction, but at some point it was obvious enough to be of concern.
I stood many times at the foot of her bed at 3am listening to the laboured breathing of someone sounding close to death on heavy medication. Not long before she died, I asked her to be godmother to my son, telling her that I wanted her to take care of herself so that he might know her when he grew up.
Charlie, her best friend, confronted her more directly and told her she needed to quit drugs, but was ostracised by her as a result. I took a different approach and did them with her, pretending to myself that I would guide her to redemption one day – just not today.
The lies we tell ourselves are the hardest to forgive. As a result, her daughter Billie blames me in part for her death, and no longer speaks to me. They buried Carrie’s ashes in a giant ceramic Prozac pill. You can see a picture of it on the CD disc of my first album. There are only two of them in the world, and the other one is my most treasured possession.”
Krittika being a "mishra" or mixed nak means that its just as capable of being tender as it is of being destructive. There are only 2 mishra naks. The other one is Vishaka.
Carrie took James in before he had even made his debut and he lived with her and recorded the songs of his first album in her house. They had a long lasting friendship, all of this points to the kind, nurturing, almost maternal nature of Krittika but the other behaviour he mentioned, including the love bite giving lmao?? Krittika is a Solar nak and they wouldnt be who they are if they weren't competitive for no reason lol and ostracizing people who mean well??? Solarcore AF
I assure you trying to give advice to a Solar is pointless because like the Sun, they too are blinded by their own light, they see nothing, they comprehend nothing except their own projections. Plato's allegory of the cave was about Solars, I swear lmao. The truth can be very very obvious to absolutely everybody else but a Solar WILL NOT SEE IT
They embody this meme:
They're very low on emotional intelligence tbh. You could tell a Solar that someone almost murdered you and they'd be like "oh he's not very nice, is he?" 😭😭😭 I think it's also part of their simple minded Tarzan thinking. They take everything at face value and are straightforward to a fault. They just don't know or understand how crooked people can be.
I have Krittika Moon friend who is dating a Hasta Moon man (Solar x Lunar couples 🤧) and he was disgusting to me IN FRONT OF HER and he's been nasty af to many other women we all know and she wasn't his girlfriend at the time. But even after she knew all of this, she went on to date him and now they've been together for over a year lmao 🤮🤢🤮
They do not see the faults with themselves or with people they love. They live in a bubble of delulu and completely believe that all that glitters IS GOLD. They can be soooo naive, its insane. Theyre naive girls in bad bitch packaging.
Solar individuals struggle more than any other type to understand that things are not always black and white and that real life is veryyy complicated because people are complicated. In the jungle, such abstractions do not exist, things are very black and white, you can easily arrive at solutions by thinking in a very binary way. Sun nakshatras are focused on survival and this mentality warps their mindset from perceiving things in a more complex and nuanced way.
I want to emphasize once more that survival mentality is NOT being in flight/fight mode,, its more so about operating from a place of maximum efficiency and cutting out all the unnecessary bullshit. But being in survival mode is not living. We are not animals and there is more to life than just...surviving.. and thriving..
Solar individuals are the type for whom every kind of experience is a status symbol of some sort. Be it being desired, succeeding at school/work, making x amount of money, they dgaf about "enjoying" things, they are absolutely not the "stop to smell the roses" type, they want to be like the people who they envy or look up to, they want all those markers of success. Ask them about their motivations and you'll seldom hear of an emotional one.
They're mostly driven by a need to do well in life just because. We live in a world where money is king, and where certain things are conventional indicators of success and even if they have absolutely no desire for a certain kind of house, or car or brand or relationship, they do not want to be perceived as someone who is incapable of having it???? so they work hard to get it?? They get it for show, basically.
There is a reason why the ONLY nak without a yoni consort is a Solar nakshatra (Uttarashada). The height of Solar energy is such that its truly each for his/her own, no partners whatsoever.
Jack London, Uttarashadha Sun
He wrote books like a The Call of the Wild and numerous other adventure stories which are all about surviving in the wild by yourself lol
Its funny how literally the themes of certain naks and planetary influences are made manifest
Richard Gadd- Krittika Sun and Venus
He is the star and maker of Baby Reindeer, which, if you really think about it, is a survival story. You have got to ask yourself is someone subject you to brutal stalking of the kind Gadd was subject to, would you spend YEARS of your career performing and reliving it? There could be many reasons why he chose to do so and many have found it highly problematic how a man whose privacy was so brutally invaded for so long would do so little to properly hide the identities of the real people he's talking about (his stalker was found out by netizens and she's been receiving death threats etc).
I feel like it points to the nature of the Sun. They will have the last word always and even when they're losing, they'll drag you down with them. But beyond that, I feel like it points to the ambition and tenacity of Krittika and their sheer will power.
Pitbull, Uttarashadha Sun, Krittika Moon & Rising
His life story is extremely Solar
The "American dream" tbh is a very Yang one and a very Solar one
He was born in USA to immigrant parents.His family has a history of fighting against the Castro regime in Cuba. When he was three, he could recite the works of Cuban national hero and poet José Martí in Spanish. He learned English by watching Sesame Street as a child. His father was largely absent from his childhood; his parents separated when he was young, and he was raised mostly by his mother, later stating: "my mom is my father and my mother." He briefly stayed with a foster family in Roswell, Georgia. His parents struggled with substance abuse; as a teenager, he was also involved with drug use and dealing, which eventually led to him getting kicked out of the family house.
Divorce, war, natural calamities, destruction of any kind is veryyy common for people born under Krittika, Ardra, Uttarashadha, Jyeshta, Ashlesha nakshatras.
Pitbull's parents were separated, they fled Cuba, he was kicked out and was literally left to fend for himself.
He said he chose his stage name of Pitbull because the dogs "bite to lock. The dog is too stupid to lose. And they're outlawed in Dade County. They're basically everything that I am. It's been a constant fight". Literally so Solarcoded??
I'll end this post here, I have more posts to come about Krittika and Solar naks so stay tuned. I hope this was insightful
I am sooooo sorry that I have been soooo slow with my uploads lately,, I just have a lot on my plate atm 😭😭😭I am going to try my best to be more consistent cause I want to finish this series asap as I have several other pending posts to make UGHH
#solar naks#krittika#uttaraphalguni#uttarashada#vedic astro notes#astrology notes#sidereal astrology#astro notes#astrology observations#astroblr#astrology#astro observations#vedic astrology#nakshatras#astro community#jyotish
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「If I could be born again, I hope it's not Kim Dokja at least.」
— [ORV side story] C.615 - Ep.12. □□ (6)
singNsong wrote a chapter from 49%'s perspective during the rescue of the "Real Kim Dokja." The chapter sheds light on Kim Dokja's hidden thoughts and feelings that were never revealed in the 551 chapters of ORV.
This is a thread about 49% Kim Dokja and has side story's spoilers. Read at your own risk.
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A kid-ified Kim Dokja.
Kim Dokja, who was also losing his memory. But the moment he saw that Kim Dokja, he realized: that Kim Dokja was the 'real Kim Dokja'.
「Ah... Ah, I'm...」
Like a satellite attracted by the gravitation of a star, his body moved toward Kim Dokja. The memories he had were breaking into small pieces and being sucked into Kim Dokja. Feeling the disappearing flesh, he thought.
Who was I, then?
「Dokja-ssi!」
He was Kim Dokja.
「Kim Dokja!」
However, he wasn't the Kim Dokja this world wanted.
「Kim Dok...!」
The last moment before his consciousness disappeared, he thought.
「If I could be born again!」
As the party said, a delusion of the 'Real Kim Dokja'.
「I hope it's not Kim Dokja at least.」
He imagined a very distant universe that could never be reached by this world, an unknown being born in that universe.
A creature that no one in <Kim Dokja's Company> recognized and has nothing to do with Kim Dokja.
「I want to have my story, too.」
There was the sound of something exploding, and the next moment his consciousness was broken into small pieces and scattered in space.
But the biggest part of the consciousness that formed his core did not completely disperse and became a meteor.
— [ORV side story] C.615 - Ep.12. □□ (6)
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Q: Why is Lee Hakhyun the reincarnation of 49%, but not 49% itself?
The meteor that carried 49%'s soul broke into many tiny pieces that flew to a planet far away from Kim Dokja's worldline.
The largerst piece entered the body of a newborn child named Lee Hakhyun.
Many other smaller pieces also entered the bodies of dozens of different people, including Killer King and Yerin (siblings), Dansu and Jiyoon (father and daughter) and even some who have crushes on each other.
As a result, there are over 10 characters who are reincarnations of 49%.
All of these reincarnated fragments of 49% have taken on new lives of their own. So if you consider Lee Hakhyun to be 49%, then you should also consider the others as 49% as well!
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Q: Why are there 2 portals to different endings, one where Kim Dokja wakes up and one where he doesn't wake up?
In my opinion, it's because 49% Kim Dokja is the one who doesn't want to come back to his companions the most.
Why do you insist Kim Dokja wants to return to his companions and have a happy ending?
We only get to see the inner thoughts of 51% who longs for his companions day and night. But 49% wanted nothing to do with returning to his companions and we only learned his true feelings in the side story. After reading his story and learning his wish was fulfilled, do you still want a 100% Kim Dokja like KIMCOM would?
#TY Snail for ur help <3#orv spoilers#orv side story#orv#omniscient reader's viewpoint#kim dokja#lee hakhyun
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